#they asked me about university and i said i was halfway through my BA in gender studies. the confusion and disinterest on their faces LMAO

[the-badger-mole]

The Other Woman: Part 4

Ursa had set out a plate of Zuko's favorite cookies. He'd always known it was juvenile, but he'd always appreciated the thought. Today was different. Now the gesture just seemed infantilizing.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Ursa was saying. "The house feels so empty during the day without Ikem and Kiyi here." She paused and sighed sadly. "Did your sister tell you that all the universities she's considering are hours away from here?"

Zuko winced. He had been present the day that Katara encouraged his youngest sister to take going to college as an opportunity to expand her horizons, both academically and physically. He hadn't added much to the conversation, feeling a bit disloyal to his mother, but he also didn't have the heart to push her to stay closer to home, as he knew Ursa would've wanted. He couldn't after seeing how Kiyi's eyes lit up at the thought of spending time in Ba Sing Se or the Southern Water Tribe. In hindsight, he was glad he hadn't tried to reign in his sister's dreams.

"Mom," Zuko said taking a deep breath. "We need to talk." Ursa froze halfway through filling Zuko's coffee cup. She found a smile a moment later, the consummate hostess, even after all these years since her divorce from his father had taken her far away from the social elite.

"That sounds serious," she said lightly. "I hope it's nothing bad?" Zuko took a breath and silently went over the speech he'd been practicing for the last three days.

"It's about Katara," he said. Ursa's eyes widened, and two splotchy patches of red appeared on her cheeks.

"She's not pregnant, is she?" Ursa tried to keep her tone light, but there was something cold in her tone. Zuko realized with stunning certainty that she would not be happy to hear that Katara was pregnant.

"Mom-" Zuko sighed.

"You should insist on a paternity test," Ursa huffed, setting down the coffee pot and sweeping crumbs from the table, agitatedly. "Before you sign anything, you make sure you get a paternity test. Agni knows how many prominent young men have found themselves bound to supporting uppity little harlots for decades because they signed birth certificates before making sure the child was theirs." Zuko listened to his mother's rant in mounting horror. How had he not seen this hostility towards Katara for what it was? How had Katara taken so long to reach her breaking point?

"Mom, she's not pregnant," Zuko cut in before Ursa could get any further into her insinuations. Ursa visibly relaxed, which made Zuko dread saying what he had to say next. "She broke up with me."

"Oh!" Ursa, to her credit did try not to look too excited. "Well, I never thought she was the right fit for you, anyway. You'll move on in time, you'll see."

"That's just it, Mom," Zuko said as calmly as he could with his insides tumbling wildly inside of him. "Katara is the perfect woman for me. She's smart; she's kind; she's the most patient person I've ever met besides Uncle. She's so far out of my league, I was afraid to talk to her at first. Did you know that it took me almost a year to get the courage to ask her out?"

"Zuko-" Ursa blinked in surprise. She scrambled to find something to say. "I don't know why you would feel that way. You-you're a remarkable young man-"

"And she made sure to tell me that- to make me feel that every opportunity she got!" Zuko exclaimed. "She loved me! If I'm lucky, she still loves me! But I sat by and let her sit through levels of disrespect I wouldn't allow my coworkers to sit through! I ruined the best relationship I ever had because I was afraid of upsetting you!"

"Me!" Ursa gasped. "All I want- all I've ever wanted for you was the best!"

"Then why did you treat Katara so horribly?" Zuko demanded. "She was never anything but respectful to you! And she made me happy. What more could you possibly want from the woman I marry?"

"She isn't good enough for you!" Ursa insisted.

"Why?" Zuko slammed his hands on the table and stood, knocking his chair over "Why don't you think Katara is good enough for me, Mother?" His voice rang through the room. Ursa paled and sank into her chair.

"I feel dizzy," she gasped. Zuko rolled his eyes and got her a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"All I want is a reason for why you don't like Katara," Zuko groaned.

"I don't like it when you yell," Ursa's voice quaked with unshed tears, and her hands shook as she opened the bottle. "It reminds me so much of your father." Zuko's jaw dropped at that.

"Are you seriously comparing me to him?"

"It's not that, my love," Ursa said hurriedly. "Not at all. It's just that when you were yelling, you reminded me of him. It-it took me back to..." She drew a shallow, shuddering breath.

"Fine, Mom," Zuko growled in frustration. "I won't yell. I just need to know what your problem is with Katara."

"She isn't good-"

"-good enough for me," Zuko interrupted. "So you've said. I want to know why, you think that. What specifically made you think that Katara isn't good enough for me? She's been kind and respectful to you, right?"

"She walked right out of here without saying anything to anyone the other night," Ursa reminded Zuko, defensively. "That's respectful?"

"She heard what you said about her," Zuko told her. "She heard what you said, and she heard me not say anything to you about it. That's why she left. She's always been respectful towards you, and Ikem. And Kiyi loves her. Uncle is furious at me for losing her! Even Azula thinks she's too good for me! Why are you the only one with a problem with her?"

"I'm-I'm sure she's a lovely girl," Ursa forced out. "But you, my son! You are going so many places. You have such a bright future ahead of you. Can you see her being the one to get you there? She is going to want her own career. She won't be there to support your ambitions. She'll put her own ahead of yours. Your children will end up being raised by strangers. Is that what you want?"

"I want her!" Zuko snapped. "I love Katara. And I-I know that I haven't done a good job of letting her know that- of letting you know that. I've wrecked everything with her for your feelings, Mom!"

"Are you blaming me for your break up?" Ursa sputtered indignantly.

"No!" Zuko paced the floor a few times, raking his hand through his hair. "I messed things up with her. I prioritized you over her."

"I'm your mother-"

"Yeah, and you abandoned me !" Zuko rounded on her hotly. "You abandoned me and Azula, and then you showed up ten years later with a new husband and child and wanted us to just play happy family. And, you know what? I was fine with that! I get why you left. I'm not blaming you for that. But Mom, I was an adult when you came back. I'm a grown man, and you still want me to be your little boy. I can't do that anymore. I'm ready for my own family! I want a family with Katara, but I made her take second place to you. I won't do that again. I don't know if she'll ever forgive me, but even if she doesn't, I'm not losing her for nothing.

"What are you talking about?" Ursa asked. Tears were streaming down her face and she had a napkin pressed to her mouth. Guilt lanced Zuko, but he shut his eyes and took a breath.

"I love you, Mom," he said. "But I can't make you the center of my world. I'll still come by to see you, but you can't claim my time for three nights a week anymore. No more last minute favors. No more begging me to come over to check for prowlers when you have a fully functional security system. No more speaking down about people I care about. I want you in my life, Mom. But not at the expense of everyone else."

"Zuko-" Ursa sobbed.

"This has to be the line." Zuko turned his eyes down to the table, with his fists clenched at his sides. "Katara was never a threat to you. I love you because you're my mom. I was hoping you two would get along. Did you know that she lost her mother as a child? I guess, I was hoping..." Zuko pinched his nose and let out a huff. "It doesn't matter what I was hoping. You have two choices now, Mom. Either you respect the fact that I'm a grown man with my own life- respect my time and space and my choice in who I want to spend my life with- or we can't be in each other's lives anymore."

"Zuko!" Usra looked as if she had been slapped in the face. She gaped up at her son in horror. Part of Zuko wanted to cave and apologize for hurting her feelings, but the larger part of him- the part that was still raw and hurting from losing the woman of his dreams- knew that this was for the best. He sighed and turned to leave.

"Good-bye, Mom."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[daddy-socrates]

hey daddy socrates!

as i understand you did MA in philosophy, can i rant a bit in your ask box?

i did my BA in philosophy, now i want to do my MA in philosophy because i love it. but everyone tells me it's useless since this degree is unemployable.

idk, i guess i wanted to ask, what are your thoughts on this? i feel so depressed lately since it feels like i have to pick between a) something i'm interested in, passionate about and love b) something that will land me a well paying job. and it feels like b is more responsible choice but also that it will ultimately make me really miserable.

Okay so, I'm not gonna lie I also thought it was useless in undergrad. I had gone in initially with the aim of an English major and the education certification track (bc my school was quirky and wacky 🤪🤪 a cert for my state rather than a full major) but I found myself so enamored by the mushy-ness of philosophy that I stuck with it. Every time I asked a professor "so what can I do with this degree?" it was ALWAYSSSSSS "you can do ✨️anything✨️ :)" and I'm like, Gary that's not an answer (^':

Right so a lot of people take a philosophy degree (or two) and then go into law school or become a professor. I wanted to take some time to explore other options before committing to a second degree in philosophy and honestly I got about halfway through a school year away from it before I went crazy and applied for some classes at a nearby university. Backstory backstory backstory, etc. If you really want you can find the rest of that in my talking tag (#blah blah blah) if you want all the ramblings and complaints and the victories.

Getting back to your point though, when Gary said "you can do anything," he meant that the skills taught in philosophy - like critical thinking, deep reading, reasoning, recognizing fallacies, awareness of social and political history surrounding the "whys" behind the "whats" of individual beliefs and broader systems/structures - is almost universally adaptable. My mom said through my junior and senior years that those skills are always in wicked high demand, so philosophers are going to be good at whatever we decide to apply ourselves to.

But that's not fun. We know REAL fun! Sitting in a library basement drawing the ghosts out of dead texts and "Um, Actually"-ing them with our 21st century, likely more diverse perspectives :)

Have the others in your life picked out careers for you? Because I have a little list of things I came up with that are not rooted in academia but can use the skills and might help cast a wider net while still related!

Joining an activist organization, or a union organizing group

Political analysis

Editor (maybe for a philosophy journal?!)

Local office ethics board

Human resources is a related option to the above and seems to be in constant demand

It's a short list and definitely a work in progress, but they're just a few little ideas. Use your network!! Use them! Professors, classmates, alumni, friends, family of friends, etc! They may have insight into places you can't even conceive of yourself at this moment!

I did almost go for a job in HR with an environmental technology company but somehow got a job in costuming. Fuckin bananas, the chance of that. But it's wonderful, because it's a job I can leave at work, and once a week last semester I would leave a little early to do just one class. Working full time and being a super-small-part-time student has been uhhhh tricky but it's more or less worked for me to dedicate a few hours each weekend to doing the assignments etc. JUST a few. Sleep and video games and going outside are also necessary.

... But also, if you really want to commit to philosophical research or teaching philosophy (as I am now planning to do), then I say go for it. My current job is definitely not my forever-home, but ALSOOOOOO the idea of a "forever career" feels silly to me. If you are able to let yourself float a little bit from time to time, recognize that you can switch it up if you need to. My partner is currently in a floating spot right now and he's miserable about it, but there is something comforting about knowing that the training he is currently doing in the meantime while between jobs does not have to be the only office he will ever have to sit in.

If you choose to go ahead in philosophy, hell yeah!! Big fan, absolutely love that. If you decide to take a break like I did, try something else, even just for a little while, that's also great! It could be used as a sort of "See? I DID do other things" at your nay-sayers too >:)

WHEW lots to say, too much space allowed to say it. I hope some of that can help a little. Absolutely come back to rant more if you want!

[justkenz]

Hey uh sorry so i don't know if this is the right place to ask but heck i have searched the internet for answers and i still dont have one, and i have no money to talk to some professional about it. So, when do you think it is appropriate to start looking into colleges? I am still in highschool, second year out of four and i want to study abroad, specifically in an english speaking country (i am not from one) and i want to study film. I am really serious about this, and i've got a ton of anxiety, so i feel a strong need to know my future point by point and also to know the deadlines for my decisions.

Hey! This is a great question, and honestly, it is different for everyone.

I think there is never harm in starting to explore your options, especially since you are in your second year of high school, it might be a great time to start figuring out what kind of classes certain programs might require for the program you'd like to pursue.

You can even just start by picking your top 10 schools, then go through each one with more detail (money, location, program, resources for international students, etc) then you can kind of narrow it down to your top 5 schools, and deep dive into the program and see if maybe some schools have more courses that interest you, or more opportunities or co-op programs, etc.

But, don't feel like you have to do all of this now, because things change, you've still got two years left. But if you start by narrowing down your top 10 schools, and see what kind of admission requirements they have you can see if there are specific courses in high school that are required, for example, maybe you'd need calculus instead of just regular basic math, does that make sense lol

Don't stress too much right now, and to be honest, you'd be surprised how much things change between now and graduation and then actually attending university.

I'll give you an example from my own life:

In high school, I was very much by the book, had a plan, wanted to follow that plan and had wild anxiety if I had to make changes to my plan.

I was stuck between wanting to study theatre and social work for a while, but then I decided I wanted to pursue social work. The thing is, the school that I wanted to apply to required at least two years of university before I could apply for that program, so I had to adjust my plan. So I went to a different university to study child and you care, but only ended up doing 2 years there and then transferred to a university in a different province to complete a completely different degree. What I ended up with, was a BA in Sociology with a concentration in family, community, and health, a minor in criminology and a minor in psychology. Now I am working on trying to go back for another undergrad in psychology.

so... with all that being said, just know that it's okay if your plan doesn't always end up working the way you thought, or if you decide halfway through that you want to change your mind, or if you need to take a year off to get some experience first, or if your dream school doesn't accept you, just know you will figure it all out and sometimes you just have to take things one day at a time.

So for now, just start exploring some options, but don't feel like you have to solidify our life plan, you have time, just be gentle with yourself🤍

Sorry for the long response hahaha I hope some of this helps 🤍

Keep me updated with how things are going, if you want!

[non-un-topo]

Met my parents’ weird born again neighbour (very old white lady, anti-vaxxer, racist, the whole shebang) and the first thing she said to me was “ohhh you’re the one who wants to die if she doesn’t get a 98!” Bro...

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party. 

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse. 

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily. 

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.” 

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure. 

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...” 

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.” 

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.” 

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.” 

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.” 

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.” 

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.” 

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.” 

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.” 

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence. 

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home. 

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying. 

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?” 

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset. 

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.” 

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.” 

You nodded. “Thank you.” 

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually. 

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.” 

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.” 

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.” 

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?” 

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody. 

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.” 

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night. 

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?” 

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.” 

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.” 

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly. 

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.” 

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.” 

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.” 

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.” 

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees. 

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.” 

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.” 

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.” 

[langdxn]

I really liked the last ask about how the Cody's would react to you being insecure about your boob size and I'm really insecure because my butt is pretty big compared to the rest of me so how would the Cody's react to that? Thank you so much

awh darling i can 100% confirm that a big ass is the best ass!

Hawthorne!Michael is a master of seduction and he knows it, therefore he knows the way to your heart is through wanton appreciation of your derrière. When you’re riding him in-between classes, his hands are practically fused to your butt, carving crescent bas reliefs into your skin as he drinks in your curves. “I don’t know why you hide these,” he coos in a tender moment between you. “They’re my favourite part of you. Well... except your lips,” he pulls up to plant a firm, possessive kiss on them. “And these,” one hand sinks into your breast and squeezes lightly. Suddenly an eyebrow raises and he hooks your legs to spin you down to the sheets as he towers over you. A sharp snap of his hips buries his length deeper to crash into your walls — “Oh, and this too.”

Long before Sir Mix-a-Lot steals his thunder, Xavier likes big butts and he cannot lie. The odd casual swipe is to be expected whether you’re in company or not, but he’s at his proudest when you’re sitting around the campfire sharing spooky stories, cuddled under the same blanket as Xavier purely by choice. Ray’s halfway through narrating the one time he used a gas station restroom in Iowa, when you suddenly notice a fingertip tracing over your ass. You jump slightly at the sensation and all eyes turn to you, noticing an ear-to-ear grin across Xav’s face. “What?” He innocently blurts out to the bewildered onlookers. “Have you seen this chick’s ass lately? I’m just claiming it before any of you losers get there first!”

Jim’s sensitive to your concerns over your butt, so he’s cautious not to mention it at a time when you’d take offence to his adoration of your ASSets. His appreciation comes in the form of lingering stares at your curves in your wetsuit, clearing his throat whenever you catch him red-handed. “Look, I’m sorry babe but you can’t just walk around and expect me not to get down on my hands and knees and worship that ass.” Case in point, he drops to his knees, cups your butt and shoves his head right in between your cheeks. Who said romance is dead clearly hasn’t told Jim Mason.

Duncan is a lot more subtle about his favouritism when it comes to your butt. When dressing for a presidential dinner, he purposefully suggests every dress that hugs your curves so much that he finally finds the distraction he needs from the mind-numbing politicians. When hitting the bar with your girlfriends on a Friday night, he recommends a dress that skims your thighs — it almost seems like self-sabotage for Duncan to leave you open to unbridled male attention, but there’s a catch. You’ve only just ordered your first round of the night and a familiar hand ghosts over your backside. “Excuse me miss,” Duncan whispers into the shell of your ear. “We’ve never met before but would you mind if I take this ass home with me and eat it like there’s no tomorrow?”

It is a truth universally acknowledge that Richard is the phantom ass grabber. He strikes in silence and when he strikes, he holds on for dear life. You discovered this infamous trait when you so innocently bent over in front of him in the lounge on your first day in the clinic. Under different circumstances, you’d have turned and swatted the owner of an errant grabbing hand, but this one was too cute to scold. His brunette wave flicked in front of his eyes to conceal his wicked eyes narrowing as if his plan to grab a handful of your backside had finally come together. If he could find the words to describe how perfectly his hand fits on your butt, he’d shout the whole clinic down, but until then... he’ll continue to strike in silence.

[redrobinfection]

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

Tim & Damian | Implied JayTim | Implied DickDami | College AU | No Capes | Crack | actual discussion of literature | Dick Grayson was adopted by the Drakes instead of the Waynes | Want to write/create with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

[tavern-aa]

Aang: He’s Pretty Sweet

A/N: Hi there, Teddy here! We are starting the Avatar the Last Airbender masterlist with Aang! Gotta love this adorable monk.

Rating: E

 Y/N was wandering through a park downtown taking in their new surroundings. They had just moved to Ba Sing Se for university and was exploring the city. One of their stops had been this park, that was a bit more of a nature preserve than anything else, as it had been recommended by this nice old man who worked at the tea shop they had found the other morning. 

He had introduced himself as Iroh, the owner apparently, and spoke highly of the area. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the man’s warm disposition or the amazing tea, but they had decided to check out some of the places he mentioned. Though they had made a note about halfway through their conversation to come back again to the adorable shop. 

Walking actively through the park made Y/N really want to thank Iroh for telling them about this place. The park was close to the university and was seemingly sectioned off for different activities. There were walking trails that ran along the outskirts of the park but were wooded enough that runners would not be able to see or hear some of the usual noises of the city. There were also large open field areas which looked to serve sports and family activities. A playground sat next to the field and Y/N could just imagine the laughter of children flying through the air. 

But at this moment all was silent. Y/N had decided to come closer to the evening so the park was mostly deserted except for a few joggers they would see weave between the trees. At the moment Y/N was strolling leisurely through the dog park hoping to get a look at a few cute dogs before they went home. But to their dismay this area seemed as deserted as the rest of the park. There was only one person in the park accompanied by a huge dog. Y/N wasn’t close enough to see if the dog was just big or if the person was a child, but the pair seemed pretty cute. The boy, at least what Y/N thought was a boy, was seemingly trying to engage the dog but the hefty canine looked content to just lie down in the soft grass. 

Y/N chuckled softly at the sight. But suddenly the wind picked up and seemed to carry their laughter towards the two. The dog perked it’s large shaggy head up towards Y/N and seemed to perk up. It quickly rose and started taking making big strides towards them. Sooner than anyone realized the dog was lunging his huge body onto Y/N. They let out a cry as they fell to the ground. 

The dog started licking Y/N’s face causing them to let out a steady stream of laughter. The dog’s shaggy hair tickled along their exposed skin and the soft flesh under Y/N’s palms were warm.

“Appa no! Down Appa, down!”

The dog backed away a bit once it heard the command, but it still left most of it’s body weight on Y/N. Said person started to sit up and looked at who spoke. Jogging towards them frantically was the dog’s owner. As they got closer Y/N noticed they seemed older than they originally thought. They looked like they had a bald head under a beanie and large doe brown eyes. He was wearing a baggie hoodie and jeans and in his hand was a leash. But what really stood out about the guy was the tattoo peaking out from under his beanie. There was a vibrant blue arrow on his head. On paper it should look stupid but for some reason it suited him. Y/N actually thought the guy was really cute.

Once he reached Y/N the guy was leaning on his knees panting. He looked up at Y/N apologetically, “I’m really sorry about him.” He took a moment to catch his breath and stretched back to his full height. He stood about five foot four and in haste nudged his hat out of the way to reveal some short dark brown hair. 

“It’s ok,” Y/N started. They leaned over to pet the now docile dog, “he’s pretty sweet now that I can see him and not his tongue.”

“Ha, yeah, he can get a little carried away sometimes, I’m Aang by the way, this is Appa as you can probably tell by the way I was yelling at him.”

“Oh! I’m Y/N, actually I think I’ve seen you around campus before. You’re usually with a brunette girl and guy, right?” Y/N almost didn’t recognize him out of his usual bright colors, but bow that they were right next to each other they did recognize him.

“Yeah, those are my friends.”

A text tone rang out of no where prompting Aang to pull out his phone to check his messages. A sigh left his lips as he saw the text before looking back up at them.

“I actually have to run, but uh…you seem pretty cool, do you wanna maybe exchange numbers? To hang out! Or something, hah,” he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Y/N smiled softly before taking his phone from his hand gently and entering their phone number.

“I’d love that, call me sometime, okay?” they asked before handing back the device and turning to continue their walk through the park. This left poor Aang by himself staring after them with a dazed smile as Appa barked by his side and bounded back into the dog park.

All they could hear from behind you was a loud, “Wait, Appa!”

Y/N smiled softly as they listened to him rush after Appa again. Y/N bit their lip softly and began jogging towards their apartment.

“I’m really going to have to thank Iroh” they mumbled happily.

[smolawkwardkidlat]

ikaw ba ulit?

in which there is zero worldbuilding and pure self-indulgent crack.

inspired by many late nights, two Spanish songs, and one Discworld book. I’ll probably never post this to AO3 for personal reasons, but this is going to remain on my Tumblr for all my desperate brethren. I gotchu fam. 

fandom: Noli Me Tangere | pairing: Elias/Crisostomo Ibarra aka Elibarra | other: alternate universe, a bit crack, super self-indulgent, canonical character deaths, (i have no idea how to explain this), very fantasy-ish, somewhat supernatural character?

By the time he has reached the old balete, Elias doesn’t know what the difference is between hunger and exhaustion and agony. What he knows is that they’re eating him alive and yet that he is so terrified it barely matters. It is December—the chill in the air mingles with the heat off his feverish skin and it burns without burning. 

There is a boy. He didn’t expect that. There is a boy in the tomb of Ibarra’s grandfather. 

Elias doesn’t know what to do. 

The boy is alive, that much is clear from the way he’s carrying on. The blood on his head has dried and his leg must be on the mend. So—wounded, but not seriously. Once he goes home and gets tended to he will be fine. The woman he’s moaning over, though… 

Sisa. When the boy raises his head Elias asks, “Are you her son?” 

His voice is so low and rough he doubts the boy heard him, but he gets a nod in response. 

That is truly unfortunate. “What will you do?” 

The boy’s eyes aren’t especially big, but they still seem to fill half his face. No child’s eyes should have that kind of sadness in them. “Bury her.” 

“In the cemetery?” 

“I don’t have money,” says the boy miserably. “And besides, the kura wouldn’t allow it.” 

Elias resists the temptation to reach out and steady himself on the gate. He closes his eyes, opens them again halfway. “Then…?” 

“If you would like to help me…” 

“I’m too weak,” he says, and the moment he says it he knows it’s true. He can’t even stand up straight anymore. The boy’s eyes follow him to the earth, as if unaware of the streak of blood across his own forehead. 

The words he explains with drag at his lungs and his throat. The boy’s eyes follow them as well. 

It must be the older son, Elias decides, what’s-his-name, Basilio. He looks too tall to be seven years old. That means—is he nine or ten? Nine—or ten—and an orphan. Nine—or ten—and left alone with his mother’s corpse on Christmas. 

Ibarra must have infected him with his bleeding heart, Elias thinks sourly. 

At the very least the boy shouldn’t see another death tonight. 

“Listen!” he says, and damn it, his voice falters faster than ever. Nevertheless, Basilio startles to attention and stares at him anew. “Before the day comes I will be dead too. There’s a pile of firewood twenty paces from here, on the other side of the brook. Bring it here.” Basilio starts to get up, but Elias splays his fingers and he stops. He listens to the instructions with an expression going glassy from grief and lack of sleep. 

Elias is happy to see him go; he has no comfort left in him for Basilio, as much as the boy needs it. Hopefully Ibarra will understand the message he has no strength left to write. 

There are stars above him and songs on the wind. There is a dawn coming and freshness on the leaves. There is a thought gnawing at his heart and he only speaks it because he is desperate. 

Before the numbness reaches his lips Elias murmurs one last broken prayer, and it is not the one you think. 

He says, Please, God, let me—

And he is awake. 

“You should have studied at the theater,” says a familiar voice, in a tone that is not at all familiar. “You’d have been brilliant.” 

Everything is blurry and feels like mist. “Ibarra?” he whispers. 

“I’m afraid not,” says the voice. He didn’t know a timbre like Ibarra’s could resonate like that. There is something on his head that tingles like touch. “Take your time, your death was nasty. Infection, exhaustion, and starvation all at once—not enjoyable.” 

“I’ll say,” he rasps, and coughs to clear his throat. Strange, that he still has a throat. “So I am dead.” 

“Yes, you are,” says that voice that still sounds uncannily like Ibarra. 

His nose catches a cool, dry, musty scent like an abandoned room, with just a hint of aged leather. Then he tastes the cold, then he hears a rustle that isn’t quite cloth but that he can’t assign to anything else. He knows these things mean something, but he doesn’t know what it is, yet. He’s dead, and that means something too. 

“You are—Death.” 

“Not quite, but close enough.” 

It stands to reason that if he can smell and taste and hear and think, then he can see, so Elias opens his eyes. What surprises him is not so much that the figure bent over him is wearing all black with a silver brooch at their throat, but that he’s still in the forest, where he died, with the ground under his back and his head resting at the foot of the balete tree. 

Now that he can think about it, it was a horrifically ironic place to die. 

“Are you better now?” asks the figure. 

He is, in fact, better. The ache that was eating away at his insides has faded almost completely—his head is clearer than it’s been in days. “I suppose so,” he says, and finds that his mouth isn’t quite as dry anymore. 

“Good,” says the figure. “Can you sit up?” 

Elias tries. For the most part it is exactly as it has always been, except for the sensation of passing through his own body, which makes his stomach squirm, despite the fact that he doesn’t have it anymore. He appears to still be wearing the dirty, bloody clothes he died in, which is somewhat humiliating. “I suppose so.” 

“I’m afraid we need to wait a while,” his companion says. “You awoke almost as soon as I reaped you, but the poor woman over there will take some time.” 

Ah. 

That’s just as well. Even the dim lights from the town are starting to hurt his eyes now, and it is much easier to focus on the figure in black than on anything else. Easier, and more comforting. 

Christmas dawns slowly, especially when waiting. His companion sits perfectly still, except for the movement of breathing, and he’s seen the way they sit before, somewhere. Around them even the forest seems to be preparing for Christmas, coming alive in striking contrast to the still, dead air beside the tomb. 

Christmas dawns slowly enough that when the movement in the trees makes them raise their heads, the light is only bright enough to make it out. Just when Elias thinks he might recognize the step, Ibarra limps into view and braces himself on the gate. 

The past two days have clearly not been kind to him either. He wears the two days on his grimy face heavily; his entire body slumps with their weight. But even with that, he moves like a hollow banana leaf, fraying with each unsteady step. His staring eyes burn under their hooded lids, so fierce and yet so fragile that Elias wants to look away. 

He does not. 

He watches as Ibarra takes in the sorry state of the two human shapes in the clearing. 

He watches as Ibarra falls to his knees with a sharp rustle of grass and cloth. He watches as Ibarra wrestles himself to his feet, staggers forward, and collapses again by the side of Elias’s body. 

The sky is alight now. 

Ibarra looks up at it. His eyes are dry, catching fire with the clouds and blazing, blazing—his eyes are closing. 

Elias turns to the figure in black. “What did you do that for?” 

They shrug their shoulders. He tries to imagine what their expression might look like; what he imagines is Ibarra—chin raised high and skin stretched paper-tight over rounded bones. “He’ll have enough to do when he wakes.” 

He frowns. “He startled you?” 

“He did, rather.” 

He can hear the curl of the mouth in the voice, and though he has no living memory of it, he remembers it regardless. The identity of his companion is dawning on him with Christmas Day. “I think, after all’s said and done, you’ll startle him quite a bit more.” 

“You never know. I didn’t startle you much, did I?” 

“No,” he says, and he’s only lying a little. “I don’t think you ever did, except that first time.” 

“Hm? What do you—” The guide freezes, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. He doesn’t need to breathe, so he does a better impression of a statue than anyone Elias can think of. “Oh, heaven, it’s you again, isn’t it? So soon?” 

He smiles lopsidedly at the hint of a whine. “I almost made it to thirty this time.” 

“Almost is only almost, soldier mine, and you don’t get any consolation prizes.” The memories are getting clearer—he can just about picture the expression under the cowl. It’s stranger, somehow, now that he has a living memory to compare it to. “I said when you live past thirty, and not before.” 

The word comes readily to his tongue, although he rarely said it in life and can still only vaguely remember saying it in death. “Ay, you’re cruel, querido.” 

The guide snorts, and Elias imagines, vividly, an impish smirk. “And yet you’re so eager to return to me that you get yourself killed just when you’ve finished having growth spurts.” 

“I don’t die quite that young,” he protests. 

“Time off isn’t easy to get, you know.” 

“Nowhere does it say in your contract that you’re required to wait with me.” 

To his satisfaction, his companion doesn't quite have an answer. “Speaking of waiting,” he says instead, “what on earth happened to that woman? This is an absolutely terrifying amount of time to wait for a soul to awaken.” 

Elias doesn’t know very much of Sisa’s story, but he tells what he does know, and the guide’s silence lapses into bleak horror when he finishes. “Well, I was almost right,” he says at last, evenly. “That’s absolutely terrible.” 

“I shouldn’t have told you.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous—I’ve heard worse, and from you, no less.” He twirls his knife thoughtfully, showing off both the sharp, shining blade and the quick, decisive hands. “Would you mind if I dealt with her alone?” 

“Not at all.” Elias has always been bad at talking to the dead, despite—and perhaps because of—having so much experience with death. 

The guide casts him a doubtful look. 

“As long as you return for me afterwards.” 

“There it is,” he laughs. “I was afraid I’d mistaken you for a moment. Don’t worry, I will—and then I’ll be all yours for nine months afterwards, if we’re lucky.” He gets to his feet. “Nearly ready now. May I have a farewell gift?” 

“I have a bullet. Do you want that?” The palpable disappointment just about imagines the pout for him. “Oh, very well. Take your cowl off for a bit.” 

He can feel the triumphant smile against his lips, sparkling as bright as the starlit eyes as they disappear again into shadow. “If you end up not having to take a step out of that gate,” he warns, “you’re getting this bullet too.” 

“If I misjudged that badly, I deserve it!”

[inactiive-shit]

Monsters

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Prompt: monsters

Warnings: Deceit, Remus, vomit

Pairing: Romantic Dukeceit -> Anxceitmus

Words: 1,892

@sanderssidescelebrations sorry I just couldn’t think of a good title for this one. In other news, I may eventually write more off this prompt as a kind of backstory because I have a lot of ideas now. ANYWHO, here ya go!

“Are you okay, Virgil?” said Patton’s gentle voice. Virgil jumped, then groaned, then took a giant swig of his mostly espresso coffee. He gave Patton’s general direction a despondent thumbs up and carefully put his head back on the table. Patton rubbed his back soothingly, and Virgil could imagine the cooing noises he would make.

“Is he hung over?” came Roman’s deep rumble of a voice. He threw himself down at the table with them, and Virgil could feel all the way down his spine as Roman’s chair and Remus’s were pulled back from the table with a screech. He groaned again and put his arms over his head as though that would block out the noise anymore than his boxy, noise-canceling headphones already were.

“He’s not feeling well?” Patton suggested. “I’m not really sure. He’s only communicating with grunts and groans.” Patton continued rubbing Virgil’s back. Virgil wished he was hung over like Princey thought. At least then there would be an end to this eternal torment. As it was, Virgil kind of wanted to gouge out his eyes and his eardrums. That could solve the problem of the massive migraine that was currently trying to kill him. But hey, the screams of hundreds of unrested souls could do that to a person.

“Well, I don’t know why else he’d be wearing sunglasses inside and with giant headphones on if he’s not hung over,” Roman said. Virgil wished he was hung over. If he was hung over, it would stop eventually.

“Migraine,” Virgil grumbled, face smashing into the table. He could feel the rumble of sympathy coming from Patton as he said something Virgil didn’t quite catch. He sat up slightly and drained the rest of his drink. He shoved the empty cup toward Remus. “More?”

“Should you really be drinking caffeine, though, since it makes your anxiety worse?” Roman asked, clapping a hand over Remus’s mouth to stop whatever was about to come spewing out. “Wouldn’t that just, I don’t know, make your headache worse, too?”

“What about caffeine?” asked Logan, taking the seat on Virgil’s other side. Roman repeated himself and Virgil tried his best not to puke from how the world was spinning around him even with his eyes shut and hidden behind dark sunglasses he’d gotten (read: stolen) from his roommate.

“Actually,” Logan said, voice cutting through Virgil’s headphones with a precision that made Virgil wince, “caffeine is a key ingredient in many migraine medications. It is clinically proven to help. And while the unfortunate, unintended side effect of heightened anxiety does occur with Virgil, it’s fair that he get to choose whether or not that’s worth it.”

“More,” Virgil grumbled again. Remus jumped up from the table and disappeared from Virgil’s limited hearing. More talking commenced around the table, and Virgil began singing a song in his head so that he could block out any wayward stimulation that decided to provoke his already pounding head.

Another chair was pulled out from the table, with a considerable amount of grace that all the other chairs had lacked, and that is how Virgil knew that Dee was there, and also that all of his friends had managed to find him slumped in a cafe, halfway between purgatory and hell. As was the life of a clairvoyant with shit luck. Virgil preferred to take his suffering alone with a side of lonely, thank you very much.

When Remus dropped the drink down in front of Virgil, he almost cried with relief and immediately began chugging it. Maybe, if life were so kind, Virgil could subsist on a diet of solely caffeine and noodles. It hadn’t worked yet, but there was still time to try.

“Bad day?” That was Dee’s voice, smooth and barely loud enough that Virgil could hear it. He winced anyway and nodded as he carefully dropped his head back onto the table. Nothing more was said that Virgil heard, and slowly but surely, the screams died down, too. It was almost peaceful and with his eyes shut to block out any unsavory spirits he may see he could imagine he was somewhere that wasn’t crowded with spirits.

Until a loud shriek of ”Help me, Virgil!” sound next to his ear and Virgil jumped so violently that his headphones flew off. Virgil winced again as the sound of every spirit in a hundred yard radius began assaulting his eardrums. The movement was so sudden that is sent the world tilt-a-whirling again and Virgil knew without a doubt that something regrettable was going to happen.

“Virgil, are you-”

“I’m going to be sick,” he gasped and staggered from the table. He slammed the bathroom door opened and dropped to his knees in front of the first toilet. Everything he’d eaten in the last day was coming up, and there was a hand on his back which could have been anyone and Virgil couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed.

When he was done, the person behind him leaned forward to peer into the toilet and said, “Do you not chew your spaghetti? I could chew it for you and feed you like a bird.” Virgil let out a hiccup of a laugh, feeling the tiniest bit better. There was only one person he knew who would say something like that.

“Shut up,” Virgil groaned. He could barely hear anything over the dead. Reality felt kind of fuzzy which was probably not what it was supposed to be doing, but who was Virgil to argue with the universe? Certainly not the person the universe had fucked over with stupid psychic-seeing-the-dead powers from the day he was born.

Oh, wait, he actually was.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked. Virgil spit up the rest of what was in his stomach. “I think that’s a no. What’s wrong, Stormcloud?”

“It’s too loud,” Virgil said without thinking about it. Then he tensed up and puked again. Now Remus would think he was crazy because it probably didn’t sound loud in an empty bathroom to him.

“What do you mean?” Remus asked, wrapping an arm around Virgil. He might be done puking, he wasn’t sure, but he could tell that Remus was worried about him now because he wasn’t saying anything repulsive.

And if he’d made Remus worried, well, he sort of owed him the truth. He knew Remus wouldn’t care anyway. He was a werewolf. There was no room to judge.

“Mm-hm,” Virgil hummed. “All the dead people are screaming and I’m going to lose my mind if it doesn’t stop because it’s so fucking loud and-” Virgil stopped abruputly as Remus pulled Virgil toward him. He put Virgil’s head on his chest right above his heart and pressed his hand over top Virgil’s other ear. Suddenly, the only sound in Virgil’s head was the abnormally slow ba-boom, ba-boom of Remus’s heart. It was so loud and it was all Virgil could focus on. There was no screaming, no threats, no begging; just the echo of Remus being alive.

Virgil went limp against him and squeezed his eyes shut. It was the most serene he had felt in his whole life.

“Why, Virgil! You see dead people! Why didn’t you tell me? We could have such a fun time,” rumbled through Remus’s chest. Virgil didn’t say anything. It was quiet for once, he was going to enjoy this until his migraine left him the fuck alone. “Did you know I was a werewolf?” Remus asked. That did, unfortunately, require an answer.

Virgil sat back. “Yeah. So’s Ro, and Dee’s a naga and Pat’s a selkie and Lo’s a fae and my roommate is a vampire who thinks he’s a whole lot better as keeping secrets than he actually is. Sorry I didn’t say anything.” With the screaming back and the nasty visions floating around him and the taste of puke in his mouth, Virgil’s words came out kind of stilted and uneven. It didn’t seem to matter to Remus, who beamed.

“Oh, Virgil, I am happy as a maggot in shit to hear that,” Remus exclaimed. “The only reason Dee and I haven’t asked you out yet was because we didn’t want you to think you were getting into a relationship with humans when we aren’t. Ruined the surprise, I think, but what can you do.”

“Remus,” Virgil said slowly. “Did you just ask me out on the bathroom floor right after I puked in the toilet?”

“I like a guy who can get a little nasty,” Remus said and shimmied his shoulders. Virgil groaned, partly because Remus was ridiculous and partly because he might puke again. “So, what do ya say, Stormcloud?”

“Yes, but not right now because there’s still puke in my mouth,” Virgil said.

“Let’s go get that handled,” Remus suggested, “and then you can come back to our apartment and we can keep all those awful noises away. And then when we wake up tomorrow, Dee can ask you out!” He was grinning manically, and Virgil couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded like a pretty solid plan. Remus helped Virgil stand up and brought him over to the sinks to rinse his mouth out. Virgil took a couple sips of water, but decided that was enough or else he’d be spitting that back up too.

When Remus tried to lead him toward the door, Virgil’s legs gave out from under him. Remus, without hesitating for even a second, scooped Virgil up like a baby. He adjusted them until Virgil’s head was on his chest and Virgil had relaxed slightly.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.” Virgil shut his eyes again as Remus carried him out of the bathroom. There was a muffled conversation at the table as somebody put his headphones and sunglasses back on for him, and he faintly heard Remus say, “Virgie’s not a normie either!” followed by exclamations and he did really want to hear what everybody thought, but the next thing he knew, he was being picked up out of a car and carried into an apartment.

“Hey, Virgil,” Dee said, plucking his headphones off for a second. Virgil winced, but it was quieter here, less to see and hear, so he hummed a hello. “Remus said you agreed to come over and I really didn’t want to have to take the headphones off to ask in the middle of the restaurant. Do you need anything? Food? Or water? Sleep?”

“Lights off?” Virgil whispered. “I don’t really sleep much like this. But I like listening to Remus’s heart. It makes all the other noises...stop.” Dee smiled in the softest way Virgil had ever seen, and then went to pull all their curtains closed. Remus sat down on the couch, still cradling Virgil, and situated them so that Virgil’s head was directly over his heart. The slow, steady ba-boom, ba-boom was taking up most of Virgil’s senses again.

“Do you need anything else?” Dee asked quietly. Virgil shook his head, and Dee sat down next to them. There was a quiet rumble as Remus said something Virgil didn’t catch, and then a softer one as Dee responded. Virgil took a deep breath and just focused on Remus’s heartbeat. It let the pain fade to background noise much better than anything else did, and Virgil finally fell asleep to the quiet ba-boom, ba-boom of Remus’s heart.

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

The first one  - Bonusscenes in traditional written word

This is a smau and a zukoXreader, although i haven't decided how this ends yet.

Y/n has recently transferred to Ba Sing Se from Omashu university and meets the gaang through a schoolproject they do with sokka and suki.

Masterlist

Bonus 3: Partytime

It was a short walk from the metrostation to the park in which the party was held. Suki and Sokka had explained to you that their friend Haru had helped organise it. Apparently, it was a thing the Psychology department threw every year – that was to say the students of the Psych faculty. Haru was one of them and deeply involved in Campus life.

Sokka had said that you were going to be gobsmacked and mind boggled by the professionality with which the party would be set up and you had laughed. Shame on you for not believing him. He had been right.

The park was obviously of the public variety and so you expected a couple speakers, and crates of beer strewn about. What you didn’t expect were fairylights in every last tree and bush, a DJ set-up of the highest quality and amazing sound from all the speakers one could imagine, or three tents with bars in them, where drinks were reasonably priced. You hadn’t been expecting the benches, couches and tables made from pallets used in warehouses or the abundance of cushions and pillows. You hadn’t expected the camping chairs and the make-shift firepit. It was insane and you stood in awe as you failed to follow Suki.

“You coming?”, Aang laughed before he grabbed you by the hand. You first made your way to one of the bars, then, equipped with alcoholic goodness, Suki introduced you to Haru, who turned out to be an ex-roommate of Zuko’s. He also played guitar in what he called an inappropriately ambitious garage band, which intrigued you. But before you really got to interview him on any of that, he was disappeared by a friend of his.

Suki found a couple of her Kyoshi sorority sisters and introduced you to them and their partners. It turned out that your initial idea of fraternities and sororities was wrong: They were not all terrible and not all ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ were stuck up snobs. Suki was the best example of that. She was amazing and clever and smart. And very kind and not at all elitist. After all she was the one who invited you to this shindig. Her ‘sisters’ and their boyfriends and girlfriends, some of which were also in fraternities and sororities, were as kind and open as Suki was and you spent a good portion of your night learning names, trying to remember the history of the different organisations and their respective significance to BSSU, being taught simple fight stances and moves from the Kyoshi’s and laughing.

You laughed a lot. Only halfway through the night, hours later, after Sokka had joined you again, when you had lost all sense of being a stranger, you realised how desperate you’d been for this kind of interaction. This kind of laughing, dancing, making fun of people and talking bullshit. How much you had needed to be part of a group. How lonely you had actually been.

But at this moment, while you were trying to not spit out your beer as you listened to a story about Suki, expertly told by Mamoto, who was either someone’s boyfriend or someone’s brother – who knew? There were so many people and so many connections and a good deal of friends dating a friend’s ex – you didn’t think about what you’d needed for two months. You thought about … nothing? Everything? Really, you just let your thoughts drift, like you drifted yourself. From conversation to conversation, from person to person, from group to group, from subject to subject.

As nervous as you’d been standing in front of the dragon, as relaxed you were now. You didn’t really care about the music or the drink you had in your hand – you were not overdoing it, though, you were still new and needed to make a good expression – you cared about the company. And the company was excellent.

Bian, one of the Kyoshi-sisters, and her girlfriend Tuyet had claimed you after they found out about Gray Sky.

“A band? Like a proper band?”

“I mean that depends on your definition of ‘proper’ but, yeah? There were several people, playing several different instruments in order to create a coherent song.”

“Which means a proper band!”, Tuyet assured you.

“Have you ever played at a place? Or like an actual concert?”, Bian wanted to know.

“We used to play Friday nights at a bar.”

“Proper band!”, they both smiled at you.

“You should meet TaMing. She was a Kyoshi-sister before she dropped out of college. She plays in the same band as Haru.”

“Oh, I’ve met him. Seems nice.”

“Right, right. He is. Usually he brings his guitar to these things. At some point he will sit at the bonfire over there “, Bian explained, “and play some typical bonfire music. He’s good. You should go over there.”

“Not right now, though. I would first like to know what you think of Sokka!” Bian’s face was hard to read. You couldn’t tell if she liked or hated him but in a sense you also didn’t care. Your answer came instantly: “He’s great!” He was. A funny kind person with some brains. Admittedly, he didn’t look like a genius or ever put a lot of emphasis on how much excelled academically, but that didn’t take his intellect away. His jokes and nonchalant-ness were inviting and genuine and deceptively ‘hid’ his smarts. Sokka wasn’t intimidating when you first met him, but that didn’t mean that you shouldn’t be scared of him.

You were quite certain that you wouldn’t want to cross Sokka. You’d be dead. You’d be killed until dead. But it would look like an accident…

“Don’t you think he is a bit too goofy?”

“No, I don’t. I mean he sure is goofy, but I find that to be delightful.”

“Give it a couple more weeks.”

“You don’t like Sokka?”

“No, I like him! I just also find him annoying, I could do without all the dumb jokes. But he’s good to Suki and really, that’s the only thing that matters…If he makes her happy who am I to complain about some goofy puns, you know?” You liked Bian.

So, a little later you followed her to the camping chairs by the bonfire. This is where you met back up with Toph, who you now realised you hadn’t seen in a hot minute. Just like a bunch of the others. In the beginning of your little Kyoshi-session you had all but held hands with Suki and Katara, but Suki soon left you in order to wash someone’s head about their head – Wan is that you? In Ba Sing Se? – so you held on to Katara who vanished quickly after Suki with what looked like Aang.

Now you were reunited with Toph you brought out the bottle of Banana liqueur you got earlier that day. Toph tried some and declared you crazy. It was an acquired taste. While you were drinking your respective drinks Toph explained the general basics of the group to you:

“Well, you obviously know that Sokka and Suki are dating. That’s a nice spot to start. Suki is new, Sokka is old, meaning that I knew Sokka before I knew Suki. Suki just is Sokka’s girlfriend to me, you know. He went off to college and weeks later we were hearing about this badass girl he tried to get to like him. It was very entertaining.” You chuckled at the idea of Sokka trying to impress Suki before they were dating.

“Anyways, I heard about Suki because I was friends with Sokka in High School. Sort of. I was friends with Aang, who was friends with everyone in High School, because, well you’ve met him. He’s Aang. He’s friends with people. But he was pretty close to Katara and Sokka, after they met. And us four kinda became our own little core group.

So, Sokka, Katara, Aang and I are all old, while Suki, Zuko, Haru and you would be new.”

“Well”, you interrupted her, “I wouldn’t dream to compare my standing with you core group to Suki’s position. I just met you. She’s been dating Sokka for how long?”

“2 years 10 months.” That was quick. She just knew that. Off the top of her head. You made a mental note.

“And Zuko has probably been a part of your group for a while as well, right?”

“More or less since after he graduated. His time at uni did him well, I’d say. We ran into him around new year’s of his freshman-year here”, she whirled her arms around, hitting Tuyet in the face.

“Sorry, I thought you were further away. Anyways,  he started being nice and I think we ended up together on New Year’s. And after that he bonded with Sokka in his first year here. So, you know, Suki – Zuko – Suki -Zuko – about the same time they joined.

And back then Zuko lived with Haru, so that’s how we met him.”

You kept drinking and chatting until Sokka burst onto the scene looking for Suki. When he couldn’t immediately find her, he asked you for the bottle of rum you still had.

“Listen, it’s late and I’m not waiting for my illusive girlfriend to bring me a drink, to start catching up!”, Sokka yelled after you commented on how much of the bottle he had emptied in just his first gulp. “I asked Suki to get my drink ready and await me, but she ignored that… No, Toph. No.”

He held the bottle out of her reach and twisted his shoulder weirdly, so that she’d never guess where exactly the rum was. He kept cradling the bottle while Haru and some friends found their way to the bonfire and – like Bian had promised – broke out the guitars. They were good. Really good. You hummed along to some of the songs and joined the choir of Toph, Sokka, Suki, Zuko and a bunch of strangers in the choruses of most others.

Suki took the bottle off Sokka, nearly as soon as she arrived, but when the 90’s boyband hits sounded through the park, Zuko gave it back to him.

“Poor Suki, will not agree with that”, you grinned as he caught you watching him.

“Maybe, but you will. Believe me”, Zuko said with a smirk and a wink.

He was right. With another two gulps of rum, Sokka was ready to not only sing solos but also presenting his version of well-known boyband-choreographies.

“You still judging me?” Zuko leaned over and gestured for the bottle of Banana liquor.

“Yes, sorta. I’m still feeling for Suki. She will not have a good time tonight.”

“You really underestimate Sokka, you know. He’ll be just fine. And so will she. Maybe a little exhausted because he’s going to be full of energy all night.”

“What about the hangover tomorrow?”

“They don’t live together.”

“Sounds like a technicality…”

“Meh”

With a look Zuko asked permission to try the Banana liquor and, with a look, you gave it to him. His face twisted in various amusing ways before nodding.

“Not what I expected. Gotta say it. But I think I may like it.”

“Take like, two more sips. You should be a fan after.”

He followed your instructions and grinned at you. “It is unique, I give you that.”

“You can always give me the bottle back.”

He kept it. What happened to it, you didn’t know but it never found it’s way back to you. Zuko either emptied it or he passed it on to someone. Not that you cared. Suki had reluctantly joined Sokka in his choreography and, surprisingly, so had Bian and Tuyet and some other Kyoshi sisters. Tuyet was pulling you from your seat to join. Toph pushed you off the chair and when all said and done you had been dancing stupid choreos of Sokka’s for about 80 minutes and missed Zuko leaving. Thus was created the mystery of the Banana liquor. 

The night ended late. It was early morning and the birds were chirping when you carried the last of the boards that had made up the bars to the van. It would be locked and collected tomorrow by some Psychology student. Haru offered his parents’ house as refuge for the night as a reward for helping to tidy up. You all had gladly agreed. Sokka was still singing 90’s anthems to entertain you all and you weren’t the only ones tidying up. It was rather fun, really.

When you arrived at the house you didn’t really take in the details. You were shown a room and fell into the bed, fast asleep before your head hit the pillow.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (9) (Branjie/Scyvie) - Ortega

a/n: it’s BA-ACK! hope u guys enjoy this chapter, and as always pls send me love to my blog/to this blog because i love attention xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: supermarket chaos, and Brooke found out about the Branjie sweepstake. she didn’t take it well.

this chapter: Brooke and Vanessa talk things out, and there’s apologies to be said.

***

It had started to rain. Brooke was beginning to regret her choice of jacket- a leather one without a hood- but she had been going to wash her hair that evening anyway, and she supposed that was the least of her worries at the moment. As the rain began to batter down, Brooke realised that half the reason why her face was wet was because she was crying. It didn’t make any sense for that to be the case- Brooke was angry, fucking fuming to be specific, but she wasn’t necessarily sad. Perhaps embarrassed was the correct word, she thought, as she swiped at her face with her sleeve. The thought of her entire friendship group having a good laugh at her and Vanessa’s expense made her cheeks burn and the blood in her veins do the same.

Brooke didn’t really know where she was walking to, but she knew where she was walking from, and she was damned if she was going back to the flat anytime soon. Sniffing harshly, she removed her phone from her pocket and called Vanessa, the other girl picking up in about one and a half rings.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby,” Vanessa’s voice was defeated. Brooke decided it was the worst thing she’d ever heard in her entire life.

“Sorry for phoning. I just had to talk to you after all that shit on the group chat, I mean…how could they fucking do that, Ness, our own fucking friends? I just-”

“I’m fuckin’ raging at them, Brooke, honestly. I went out for shopping then I got those messages through and I’ve not been able to concentrate since. I’ve just been pacin’ and pacin’ around Sainsbury’s like a fuckin’ bear in a zoo. Look, where are you just now?”

“Um,” Brooke began, scanning her surroundings. She’d been walking so fast that she’d barely been taking them in. “In the middle of the park. I’m about five minutes from Sainsbury’s, actually.”

“I’ll meet you halfway, okay? See you soon.“

With that, Vanessa abruptly hung up. Brooke took it more as a comment on her friends and not herself. As she began walking with some purpose at last, Brooke found herself wondering what she was actually going to say to Vanessa when they saw each other. Rant, probably. But there was something that instantly calmed Brooke down knowing she would be seeing Vanessa soon and get to hold her, having her reassure her and placate her.

It ended up being about three-quarters due to Vanessa’s shorter legs rendering her slower and Brooke’s long ones ensuring she took big strides. Brooke saw her coming towards her from a distance just at the park’s edge and as they both reached out for a hug, they crashed into each other with a force that accurately conveyed both their anger and just how much they seemed to have missed each other in the 24 hour period they’d been apart.

“Fuck them,” Vanessa muttered into Brooke’s jacket. She was wearing her massive parka, the one with the fluffy pink hood. To Brooke, it made her all the more cuddly. She gave her a squeeze around her middle and tilted her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips, coming back again for a second, then a third.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Brooke decided, slipping her arm through Vanessa’s and instantly feeling about 80% calmer. “There’s that new bar that opened up round the corner. Could try there?”

They walked towards it wordlessly, a journey that only took about three minutes but in that time hundreds of unsavoury thoughts had begun to swirl around in Brooke’s head like floating bits of food waste down a plughole. She waited until they had found a booth through the back in relative quiet and until Vanessa had shrugged her damp jacket off before she let rip.

“I just can’t fucking believe it, Ness. Like, I know we kept stuff from everyone but a fucking sweepstake. Jesus Christ. The thought of everyone sitting and putting bets and watching our every move…like how long has it been going on for?! How long have we just been like performing monkeys to them?! I mean Christ, we only just found out we liked each other less than a month ago!” Brooke hissed, Vanessa sitting and nodding rapidly in affirmation as she spoke.

“I’m just hurt,” she sighed heavily, breaking Brooke’s heart in the process. “I mean I don’t know why I didn’t tell Silk and Kiki, but I just…didn’t. Everything was so new and weird between us. Hell, I guess it still is."

Brooke smiled back at Vanessa across the table, who was shooting a shy one her way. "I guess that was why I never told Yvie and Nina either. I didn’t want them making fun of us. Guess that turned out well."

Vanessa gave a quick laugh that lit up Brooke’s insides. She fumbled around in her jacket pocket for her purse. "What do you want to drink? I’ll get them in."

Too exhausted to argue over who was paying, Brooke conceded. "Gin and lemonade.”

Vanessa gave a wordless nod as she strutted up to the bar. Self-conscious of being left on her own, Brooke took out her phone and flipped it over in her hands. There weren’t any new messages to the chat- it was likely that the girls were using whatever one they had for the sweepstake to talk about what had happened in private- but Brooke had a string of missed calls from Yvie and Nina, and a few from Scarlet. There was a sole voicemail from Nina, which Brooke listened to.

“Brooke, hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this, or Yvie, or any of us really. We’re all really sorry and we’re worried about you.”

At that moment, Brooke could hear Yvie’s voice in the background, panicked and harsh, yelling at Nina about how nobody left voicemails in this day and fucking age and how Brooke was unlikely to even listen to it.

“Uh, yeah, so to sum up- we’re sorry, we love you, call us. Bye.”

Brooke couldn’t help but quirk a smile at that. She loved Nina so much, the girl was so kind-hearted and loving and caring. Which was why it made her betrayal all the more hurtful and so damn fucking confusing. Why would Nina do something like that to Brooke? Unless of course, Nina didn’t see it that way at all. Unless she really genuinely thought Brooke and Vanessa would have found it funny.

Brooke was deep in thought as Vanessa returned with one gin and lemonade, one pink gin and lemonade, and a packet of salt and vinegar kettle chips.

“Fifteen forty-five for all of that. You better buy me some diamonds or some shit and then we’re even,” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she sat down opposite Brooke. She smiled indulgently at her.

“Can I ask you something?” Brooke began hesitantly, her mind still working overtime. “If I had wanted to set up a sweepstake about like…Scarlet and Yvie. Or Nina and Monet. Would you have gone along with it?”

Vanessa shrugged and sipped her drink. “Yeah, because that shit’s funny. And cute, because it’s them. It’s different with us. We ain’t…you know. We ain’t like them.”

Brooke frowned a little and tried not to dwell on Vanessa’s justification, focusing more on her current train of thought. “But maybe that’s what the others thought when they made that sweepstake for us. Maybe they genuinely thought it was funny."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "Nina thinks that Michael MacIntyre is a funny comedian, it don’t make her correct.”

Brooke pulled a face and sipped her own drink. She’d been so angry and quick to judge, but now that she was with Vanessa and she’d had time to calm down, maybe the others were right. Maybe they’d both gone about this whole thing in the wrong way. Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been staring into space until she heard Vanessa drum on the table with her nails.

“So, uh,” she bit her lip and smiled up at Brooke. “You like me, huh?”

Brooke’s blood suddenly turned to ice. “What?”

Vanessa had gone a little bit red. It was out of character for her, and it made Brooke blush as well. “Earlier. You basically said you liked me.”

Brooke felt her speech catch in her throat. “Well I meant…we had that conversation in Liezen-”

“About how we liked kissing each other, yeah. And then we had a conversation about how we liked fuckin’ each other. But we’ve never had a conversation about actually liking each other. You were the one that said that,” Vanessa finished Brooke’s sentence mischievously. Brooke suddenly found herself wishing she was directly above a trapdoor that would plummet her into the Earth’s core and burn her to a crisp. She simply stared at Vanessa with her mouth open slightly, wondering what the correct thing to say was. Vanessa only laughed in response, growing more red as she spoke again. “So you like me?"

Brooke forced herself to look at the table top. If she looked at Vanessa she’d die. This was the moment she’d been waiting basically her entire university career for, the speech she’d been rehearsing for about three years, so why couldn’t she physically speak? She took a sip of her drink and grew a set of balls and locked eyes with Vanessa. "Yeah, I do.”

Vanessa’s face broke out into an uncontrollable smile as she tipped her head back to the ceiling, and Brooke found her heart going into cardiac arrest. “Do you, uh. Do you…feel…the same about me?"

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke wondering how what felt like her life hanging in the balance could be so funny to her. "Take a fuckin’ guess.”

Brooke spluttered an awkward, nervous laugh. It seemed like a yes? She felt like Vanessa wouldn’t have taken things as far as they’d gone if it wasn’t. “Yes?”

Vanessa tucked her hair behind her ears, tried to suppress her smile, and failed. In a quiet voice, she confirmed. “Fuck, Brooke…I’m crazy about you”

Brooke felt her heart explode and her eyes transform into love hearts and all of her insides get churned around like a cement mixer. She laughed and reached for Vanessa’s hand across the table. “Jesus. Well. Good. Okay. I really want to kiss you.”

Vanessa rapidly bounced into the seat beside Brooke like an excitable bunny and met her lips with her own. They kissed hard and passionately, and Vanessa had her hands tangled in Brooke’s damp hair and fuck, Brooke would need to pull away before things escalated and they were barred from the pub for doing something indecent. So Brooke pulled back, Vanessa tilting her head up needily, pouting and letting out a small whine.

“Whining,” Brooke simply said, a warning tone to her voice which made Vanessa’s pout get bigger and her eyes flash a little with lust. It shot Brooke back to when Vanessa was writhing underneath her with her face buried in the pillow and her hips squirming and bucking, as Brooke made her beg for what she wanted and the other girl kept up a litany of moans and whines and sighs. Fuck, no wonder Yvie and Nina had called bullshit when Brooke had denied everything. “Bratty behaviour.”

“Yeah well, I like getting my way,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling deliciously and flicking her eyes down to Brooke’s lips. Lowering her voice, she whispered. “And I’m touching myself under the table.”

Brooke almost choked. Rapidly, she craned her neck to find Vanessa’s hands sat against the leather covers of the seat, absolutely nowhere near her crotch. As Brooke sighed in relief and only about 60% disappointment, Vanessa howled a laugh. “Oh my God! Bitch! You are so fucking easy to wind up! It’s too fucking easy!”

“You’re too fucking easy, you big slut,” Brooke deadpanned, pushing Vanessa’s shoulder and letting out a laugh in spite of herself. Sighing, she picked at the crisps. “Speaking of big sluts. Our friends.”

“Yes.”

Brooke exhaled. “You know, now that I actually know you like me, the sweepstake does seem kind of funny.”

Vanessa smiled guiltily. “Yeah. Kinda does.”

Brooke frowned. “I mean they’re still absolute dicks for doing it in the first place, but our friends are dicks. What’s new.”

“True. I’m still mad at them though.”

“Ness. We didn’t tell them a single thing about what’s happening between us. The least they’re going to do is speculate. We did kind of make our beds a little bit here,” Brooke sighed, taking another handful of crisps. Vanessa exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Can we at least make them feel real shit about it?”

“Yes. Although I don’t know if you’ll succeed with Silky.”

“That bitch could bomb half the Southern hemisphere and she’d still maintain it was the funniest joke she’d ever played,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, Brooke snorting a laugh beside her. As they both grew quiet, Brooke found herself laying a protective arm over Vanessa’s shoulders.

“Hey. You okay?”

Vanessa looked up at her, her dark eyes and blown pupils making them seem so huge and deep, and Brooke knew they weren’t girlfriends yet but she felt so lucky to even be with her, beside her, knowing that she liked her and Vanessa liked her back. That was enough for now.

“I’m good. I just don’t want to go back to the flat. It’s gonna be awkward,” Vanessa pouted, Brooke pulling a face as she agreed.

“It will. But you’ll be fine. You’ll all talk it out and we’ll all go back to normal. That’s all I want to do at the moment.“

"You want to…oh,” Vanessa’s face looked downcast, and Brooke instantly registered that she’d got the wrong end of the stick.

“No, no, no, not with us! I’m happy for us to still be doing…all this,” Brooke gave Vanessa’s shoulder a squeeze and the other girl relaxed. “This is good. I like it. It’s like an upgraded version of friendship.”

“Right,” Vanessa smiled cheekily, Brooke now able to fully relax.

They finished up their drinks and the rest of the crisps and made their way outside, where it had stopped raining and was now just replaced with cold dampness, puddles on the pavement shining despite the clouds. Brooke’s arm had moved to rest around Vanessa’s waist at her hip, and she didn’t really want to let go. Knowing they were about to leave each other, Vanessa turned and kissed Brooke gently, something almost fragile to it as if she was afraid she’d fracture or break.

Unable to believe it, Brooke asked Vanessa to confirm. “So, uh. You actually like me?”

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke feeling as if she was blushing all the way up to her scalp. “Of course I do, you fuckin’ idiot.”

Brooke couldn’t help the dumb smile that spread across her face. The novelty of knowing that would never wear off.

They squeezed each other a goodbye, and Brooke started back to her flat. She suddenly felt the trepidation overtake her, wondering what would happen when she arrived back. Would Yvie be furious at her? She seemed pretty apologetic when Brooke had been shouting at her. Fuck, why did she shout at her? Yvie was her best friend, for fuck’s sake, and things had already been so fragile between them. She’d wanted to make amends, Brooke had known that, and then she’d overreacted and ruined it all. Brooke felt the tears sting at her eyes as she quickened her pace. What if Nina hated her now too? Kind, sweet Nina who had never done anything malicious to anyone in her life. Scarlet had been at the flat too. She probably thought Brooke was a complete and utter dick for the way she’d acted. Jesus Christ, everyone probably hated her. What was the point of going home? Everyone was talking about her on that separate group chat, probably wondering how they could avoid her for the rest of the year. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

By the time Brooke got home and climbed the numerous stairs up to her flat she was hyperventilating so badly that her chest felt tight and constricted, as if a snake had wrapped itself around her ribcage. She immediately stumbled through to the kitchen, filled up the nearest glass (she didn’t care if it was clean or dirty), reached up to her shelf on the cupboard and ripped into the little packet of beta blockers she kept there. She took one every morning but sometimes life called for two per day, even though the packet urged her not to and her anxiety often spiked after the second one anyway as she panicked and worried about heart failure.

Brooke took deep breaths and steadied herself against the kitchen counter. The small living room was empty and Brooke knew exactly where Yvie and Nina would be. She wondered if Scarlet was still here, embarrassment overtaking her and threatening to ruin the tiny, fragile, tissue-paper level of calm she’d managed to return herself to. She took two more deep breaths, pressing her feet deeply into the soles of her shoes and trying to ground herself as much as she could. She had to face the girls at some stage. They were her flatmates, for fuck’s sake.

So Brooke tentatively slipped off her trainers, still absolutely soaked from the rain and the various puddles she’d stepped in on the way home. She knocked on Yvie’s door and waited for the shouts of “come in”- two, not three, she noted. Opening the door, she saw Yvie and Nina tucked up in Yvie’s bed together, both on their phones. They put them down as Brooke came in and smiled- Nina’s was warm and Yvie’s more nervous.

“Hey,” Yvie was the first to speak, Nina opening her arms and Brooke feeling herself flopping down on top of the duvet in the small space between her two flatmates.

“ ’M sorry,” she muttered, the proud side of her hoping that the duvet would conceal most of her apology. Brooke heard Nina tut and felt a body lean over to hug her.

“No, baby, we’re sorry. We’ve been shit friends and shouldn’t have put that pressure on you and Vanessa to do anything. We thought it was just a joke, but it’s your damn potential relationship. We should have thought,” Nina sighed, Brooke immediately consumed with guilt at having ever been angry with her friends.

“I mean, you did still behave like an asshole,” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice, causing her to let out a laugh. Funny cuz it’s true. “But so did we. And we’re sorry.”

Brooke sat up on her elbows and finally faced her friends, her best fucking friends in the world. She realised she was crying again and got annoyed at herself. “Stupid fucking tears.”

“Tears are valid! Crying is valid! Don’t you dare bottle shit up!” Nina chastised her, coming across as more of a mum than ever. Brooke let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

“I should’ve let you guys in, I should’ve talked to you about it. About everything. Maybe you would’ve helped me make sense of the fucking mincemeat that Vanessa’s turned my brain into. I’m so sorry,” Brooke sighed, Yvie opening her arms for a cuddle which she accepted gratefully.

“We’re sorry. You’re sorry. We’re all sorry. Let’s be friends again, bitch, I hate falling out with you,” Yvie pleaded, Brooke squeezing her tight and feeling a soft weight against her as Nina joined in the hug.

“I love you guys so much,” Brooke whispered, Nina and Yvie returning the sentiment and Brooke finally feeling as if something in her life was settled. They stayed cuddled up as Brooke frowned.

“Where’s Scarlet?”

“Went home. She thought we’d need some flat time when you got back.”

“Fuck, Yvie-”

“If you apologise again I’m going to smack you. We’re fine. I also have a fuckton of bolognaise that can’t all fit into the freezer so if you’re really sorry you’ll eat it all,” Yvie deadpanned, then noticed the look of acceptance on Brooke’s face. “Brooke it’s a fucking joke, right, it’s a fucking joke, please don’t gorge yourself on bolognaise trying to prove something.”

Brooke felt a small bubble of laughter escape her mouth, and Nina began chuckling beside her until all three of the friends were laughing in a heap on Yvie’s bed.

“I feel like I’ve missed so much. How is Scarlet? How are you two going?” Brooke asked, staring up at Yvie’s ceiling.

“We’re good. She’s…amazing. She’s funny and dorky and cute and a complete dumbass whilst simultaneously being the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. She’s a fucking kinky bitch though, complete definition of a dark horse,” Yvie let out a small laugh, Nina gasping theatrically.

“Oh my Christ! A match made in heaven if ever there was one.”

“Excuse me, Miss, don’t think you get off easy,” Brooke sat up on her elbow and turned to her. “You and Monet? What’s that all about, you actually got your shit together and told her that you like her?”

“Not exactly,” Nina began to explain, her face already strawberry-red as she spoke about her crush (or maybe girlfriend. Fuck, Brooke had missed a lot). “She took the lead on everything. Told me she’d liked me since we started taking the same modules together this year. Told me I was the most beautiful girl she’d ever met. Basically filling my head with lies.”

“Shut up, you insecure son of a bitch, and accept the love,” Yvie thumped her, Nina giving an exaggerated cry.

“We went for a date the other day. It was so nice, Brooke, she’s a total sweetheart. I can’t believe she actually likes me, of all people,” Nina’s voice grew small, and Brooke felt guilt stab at her stomach. Nina hadn’t had any relationships for as long as Brooke had known her, so of course as she was about to enter into a potential one she’d be doubting herself and wondering and worrying too much. Brooke needed to be there for her.

“Of course she likes you. You’re legitimately the best person I know,” Brooke pouted. “Yvie’s right. Don’t you dare overthink this, bitch. Monet likes you, it’s that simple.”

Nina raised her eyebrows and fixed Brooke with a look of disbelief. “Brooke Lynn Hytes is telling me not to overthink things? Jesus, someone call Trevor McDonald. I want to put this on the News at 10.”

As the girls laughed and Brooke rolled her eyes, Yvie’s phone began to ring. Brooke and Nina listened with interest as she answered, the smile that appeared when she saw who was calling dictating it could only be Scarlet.

“Hey, boo…no, she’s back now…about ten minutes ago. Okay,” a laugh and then Yvie’s face grew red. “Okay…okay, I’ll see you. Okay. Lov- Okay. Bye!”

Brooke and Nina exchanged a look. Brooke knew what she’d heard. Or, almost heard. Nina spoke before her.

“Was that an, um…an L-word that almost got dropped there, Yvelynn Oddly?” she said schemingly, Yvie’s face suddenly appearing as pink as if she’d been smacked.

“What? No? You guys,” Yvie muttered, rolling her eyes and throwing her phone down on the bed. Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Excuse me, I just learned my lesson here. Share shit with your friends. Come on, spill the fucking beans or we’ll start a sweepstake about you.”

“It’s honestly nothing.”

“We want to hear anything! However mediocre,” Nina cried, sitting bolt upright excitedly. Yvie rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll spill the mediocrity and beans,” she sighed, shrugging and pausing before she spoke. “You guys know I love you, because I tell you all the time. I tell all my friends all the time. And I used to tell Scarlet all the time too but now, of course…it means a hell of a lot more.”

“Oh, babe,” Brooke sighed sympathetically. It had never occurred to her before, but she used to do the same with Vanessa, and Vanessa used to tell her all the time too. It was one of the things that used to stab at her heart, a small twist of a knife in her stomach. Since Yvie’s birthday, neither of them had said it to the other. Brooke missed it.

“I keep going to say it when I usually would…at the end of phonecalls…when we say goodbye to each other…when she does something nice for me. And I know all of our other areas of the whole relationship are going fast, like we were already girlfriends and I barely even took her on a date. I’m just cautious, but even though I’m trying hard not to say it, it still threatens to come out at times.”

“There’s a difference between being in love with someone and just loving them,” Nina chimed in thoughtfully.

“No, I know,” Yvie reassured her. “But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck it feels like to be in love with someone either! It’s never happened to me before. So how the fuck am I supposed to know? Shit, I could be in love with Scarlet and I might not even know.”

Brooke bit her lip, completely understanding where Yvie was coming from. She cast a glance to Nina and felt her stomach tighten. Out of the three of them, none were particularly well-versed in relationships. Yvie had seen a couple of girls over the years and was the queen of one night stands, but nothing had ever come of them. Brooke had dated a couple of guys back in her first year back when she still thought she was bi and then had realised she was 100% lesbian when she’d taken her first girl back from the gay club in town, then after that she’d spent most of her time pining over Vanjie. And Nina was Nina. The girl would have to be waterboarded before she actively made a move on someone. She let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Nina asked, already smiling. Brooke’s laugh got louder and she let out a faux-scream.

“Bitch! Look at us. We’ve all finally got the girls we like to like us back and none of us knows what the fuck to do about it!”

Yvie and Nina joined in with her laughter, soon growing hysterical as the girls screeched beside her. They were soon interrupted by all three of their phones going off at the same time.

“Vanjie’s been reinstated. Shit, I need to change her nickname,” Yvie smiled, pouncing on her phone. Smiling, Brooke checked her phone.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline added Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Alright hoes

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Two things

Yvie Oddly set the nickname for Vanessa Vanjie Mateo to Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie.

Okay Then: (shrek voice) OH HELLO THERE

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who’s down for film night at ours tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: ALL OF US!!!

Yvie’s bitch: MEEEEE xxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay Then: Okay then

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Second thing

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who had Yvie’s birthday in the sweepstake

“Bitch!! Knew it!!” Yvie laughed, thumping Brooke on the arm, the other girl laughing good-humouredly. She shot a message off to Vanessa.

Brooke: Things went well with Silk and Akeria then? xxx

Vanessa: Silk actually apologised wtf

Vanessa: but yeah they were cute and it went well xxx

Brooke: Good. I’ll come over with the girls later xxx

Vanessa: Staying over?

Brooke’s heart gave a jump.

Brooke: Yes! If you want me to

Vanessa: Always want you to boo xxx

Brooke turned her phone over and listened to Yvie, now stressed and talking about their upcoming exams. In contrast, Brooke hadn’t felt this calm in a long while.

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them. 

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for

Warnings: brief implied suicidal ideation (at the very end of the chapter)

Ao3 version

AN// I’m so sorry for taking so long to post this, school has been extremely hectic lately and I stupidly kept forgetting to post this until it was the middle of the night

Chapter Seventeen: Running away

The next day during lunch, Lucas was sitting with the other boys when Leo Demaury walked in with Alex and another guy from their year Lucas didn't know the name of. Halfway through taking a sip of his water, Lucas promptly spat his drink all over the table as he choked, eyes widening like saucers. The other three boys all gave him equally shocked faces, trying to move their food out of the spray instinctively.

Yann patted Lucas on the back, raising an eyebrow at his friend as he spluttered and coughed, eyes still glued to the other side of the room. "You okay, man?" Yann asked, half amused and half concerned.

Lucas nodded distractedly, watching Leo walk across the cafeteria towards the lunch queue, heart in his stomach. Arthur looked over his shoulder to see what Lucas was looking at and then his whole face contorted into one of shock and sympathy. He turned back to Lucas, smiling sympathetically and patting his hand across the table.

Yann narrowed his eyes at Arthur's gesture, looking back and forth between the two boys. "Am I missing something here?" Yann asked, putting his knife and fork down and turning sideways to glance at Lucas. Basile watched the scene unfold, water cup halfway to his mouth.

"It's nothing, Yann. Don't worry about it," he mumbled, glancing up to see if Leo was leaving. Instead, he just caught Arthur's eye. He was surprised to find a rather disapproving stare from the normally carefree boy. He sighed, looking away from Arthur. "Fine. Something happened on my date with Eliott on Friday and I found out he's bipolar when Leo came to shout at me because I lost him. And Leo's back apparently but he skipped math first period," Lucas explained, speaking rapidly and stumbling over his words. "That's how I got this," he added, raising his bandaged hand.

Basile's eyebrows raised and he put his cup back down finally, beginning to cut up a bit of his chicken. "Eliott's bipolar?" he said, shoving a piece in his mouth. Lucas nodded. "So is my mum. It's not that bad, usually."

At Basile's sudden casual admittance, the other three boys froze, staring at him in surprise. "Seriously?" Lucas asked, eyes bulging.

Basile nodded. "Oh, yeah. Had it for years. She's actually just fun when she's manic. Once flew to meet Brad Pitt and broke into his house or something," he explained through a mouthful of food, "Almost set fire to our house another time. What did Eliott do?"

"He stole his dad's credit card to rent out a movie theatre and then tried to jump off a bridge."

"He rented out a whole movie theatre just for a date?" Lucas nodded, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. "Wow, that's awesome! I wish someone would do that for me," Basile exclaimed, splattering more food onto the table as he continued to eat like he hadn't seen food in decades. It was almost putting Lucas off eating.

"Bas, it's not 'awesome,' it's horrible! He could have gotten really hurt," Lucas chastised, scandalised.

"But he didn't."

"But he could have!"

Basile rolled his eyes, putting his cutlery down. "You can't just keep on worrying about the possibility of him getting hurt or you'll drive yourself mad. He didn't get hurt, so don't dwell on it," Basile stated. Lucas gaped at him, blinking. He exchanged confused glances with the other two.

"Did Basile just give good advice?" Arthur teased, sitting up straighter and nudging him in the side with a teasing glint in his eyes. "It must be the Second Coming or the end of the world!" Basile rolled his eyes, scowling. Arthur chuckled, shoulder checking his friend and almost knocking him out of his seat. As per usual, the two boys began full out attacking each other, pushing and shoving and swearing, gaining various looks from people at surrounding tables.

As they watched their friends fighting, Yann tapped Lucas' shoulder, pulling his eyes away to meet his dark brown ones, which were filled with concern still and—and surprisingly—a few tears. Lucas stared at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. In an instant, Yann pulled Lucas into another tight hug, knocking the wind out of him and patting him on the back. "Don't you dare go through something alone again, you hear me?" Yann whispered, voice short and breathless, choked up. Lucas nodded, his own eyes welling up with tears as he buried his face in his friend's shoulder. "That's what friends are for, you idiot," Yann added, making Lucas force out a broken laugh.

"I know. I'm sorry," Lucas whispered, holding his friend tighter, breathing shakily.

"Oi, get a room you two. You're both dating other people." Arthur's voice, humourous and light as always, broke the two boys out of their little bubble and they pulled apart. Lucas wiped a stray tear from his lashes using the back of his pointer finger and shared a knowing glance with Yann. He nudged Lucas playfully in the side and then, as if nothing had changed in the atmosphere, as if Leo wasn't staring daggers across the room, they both joined in on Arthur and Basile's meaningless chatter.

◇

That evening, while working on homework next to Manon at the coloc, Lucas felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Instantly, he dropped his pen and scrambled to pull his phone out to check who it was. Instead of Leo or even Eliott, however, a message from his mum was staring mockingly up at him, bordered by his lockscreen of him and Yann posing with a skateboard a while back.

Mama: Are you coming for dinner on Thursday?

As if he couldn't be any worse of a son, in the last few weeks of chaos, Lucas had completely forgotten about his mother's birthday.

Lucas: Of course. What time?

Mama: 17h?

Lucas: Sounds good. See you then

As he slid his phone back into his pocket, a feeling of disappointment at both himself and the universe settling on his shoulders, Manon sent him a curious glance, putting her own pen on the table. "Any news yet?" she asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his pockets. Since getting home that day, Lucas had confided in Manon more about the situation with Eliott.

Lucas shook his head. "Nope. It was actually a message from my mother," he replied, "I, uh, sorta forgot it's her birthday on Thursday. I'm a horrible son." He read over the message again and scrolled up some more to read other messages. All from his mother. Bible verses and confusing yet loving words. All left on read. Lucas sighed, putting his phone down on the table and burying his face in his hands, shaking his head at himself.

He felt Manon slipping an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder blade where he was hunched over the table. "You're not a horrible son. It's not a crime to forget someone's birthday once." She rubbed her hand up and down his arm in a comforting manner, sending goosebumps all along his arm.

Lucas removed his face from his hands and sat back in his chair, facing Manon with a hopeless expression, tears in the corners of his eyes like glass pools. "But I am. I left her when she needed me most and I never replied to her texts because I never know what to say back," Lucas rambled, blinking back tears to keep the dam intact. "And now in all this mess I even forgot her birthday on top of that. Trust me, Manon, I'm a terrible son."

"Are you going to celebrate with her then?" she asked, clearly choosing to ignore his insistence for the time being. Lucas nodded, chewing on one of his thumb nails. "Then you can make it up to her then. Prove that you're not a horrible son and that you aren't going to run away anywhere." She squeezed his shoulders again, smiling and reaching up to swipe away a tear on his cheek. "You're not running away anywhere, are you?"

Lucas shook his head. "Definitely not. Not anymore."

◇

It was almost seven on Thursday and Lucas was standing on the front step of his old house, dressed in a simple white button down, blue jeans and a navy blazer, carrying a bouquet of lilies. Taking a deep breath, Lucas pressed his thumb on the doorbell.

After a few seconds, he heard the familiar click of the locks in the door and then the familiar smiling face of Colette, his mum's carer, appeared. "Lucas! Hello! Come on in, your mother is coming just now." She stepped aside, holding the door open to allow Lucas to step inside the warm house.

"Lucas?"

Looking up, a broad grin spread across Lucas' face as his mother made her way into the room, smiling fondly. She looked good, dressed in a simple navy v-neck dress and her blonde hair nicely styled to frame her face. She walked over to Lucas, arms open wide, pulling him into a hug. Lucas sighed, wrapping his arms around her and tucking his face in her shoulder, chest tight. He breathed in her familiar scent, allowing it to envelope him after months of lacking it. He missed having this.

"You brought flowers." Once Lucas pulled out of the hug, his mother gestured to the flowers by his side which were now dropping loose petals on the carpet from their embrace. Smiling, she took the flowers from Lucas and put them on the table by the front door to put in a vase later. "Let me get my purse and we can get going."

◇

The restaurant Lucas had picked was a quaint, family-owned Italian restaurant on the corner of a small, mostly empty street. It had a large bottle green awning overhanging various tables and chairs and was lit up by glittering fairy lights. Lucas' heart panged at the sight of the lights, but ignored it in favour of leading his mother inside the restaurant. Thankfully, there were only a few other people eating that night, the room filled with a pleasant hum of conversation and faint bubbling laughter.

The waiter standing to greet them was a handsome Italian-looking boy around Lucas' age, dressed in a white button down and black jeans, a green apron wrapped around his waist and his dark brown hair styled in a curly mess that fell into his eyes. "Welcome to Fratelli's! Have you got a reservation?" the boy asked, shooting Lucas and his mother a charming grin.

"Uh, yeah. It should be booked under Lallemant, I think," Lucas replied, returning the smile politely.

The boy scanned his clipboard in front of him for a moment and then looked back up at them, still grinning. "Here you are. If you'd please follow me." Lucas guided his mother through the maze of chairs and table by linking his arm with hers, occasionally turning to smile at her. Eventually, they reached a small booth laden with a small vase of scarlet flowers Lucas didn't recognise and a couple of off white candle sticks.

Once the waiter was gone, Lucas and his mother fell into a rather awkward silence, the atmosphere around them hesitant and unsure. It had been so long since they had been face to face that neither of them knew quite how to act around the other. Lucas swallowed anxiously, giving his mother another tight lipped smile.

"How have you been lately?" Lucas finally asked, not long after another waiter poured them both glasses of ice water and took their drink orders. He scanned the menu for something relatively affordable, glancing up as he waited for a reply.

"I'm doing much better now. Especially spending my birthday with you tonight," she replied cheerfully, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a long sip. "How are you, dear? How is school? Is there any girl in your life perhaps?" She turned the question back around on him, smiling expectantly at him.

Lucas cleared his throat, feeling a vein in his neck popping somewhere. He took his own gulp of the freezing water, stalling for time, grappling for a vague enough answer. "School is okay. Studying for the bac and going to parties with the guys sometimes," he replied, putting his drink down. "But uhh, no haven't got a, uh, girl in my life, no. I actually—"

Before he could finish, a waitress appeared by their table, dyed red hair tied in a high ponytail and clutching a small notepad. "Are you guys ready to order?" she asked, a broad, fake smile spread across her face. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Uh, I am. You?" Lucas glanced at his mother who replied with a short nod.

They ordered their food and finally, the waitress was wandering away, tucking her notebook into the back pocket of her jeans. As they fell back into silence, Lucas sent out a silent prayer to the universe, to any deities that may be out there, that his mother would be fine with changing the subject off of him and his potential love life.

Clearly, the universe had it out for him.

"What was it you were saying about girls, darling?" Mrs. Lallemant asked, raising her eyebrows to lead him on in his answer. It was then that Lucas recognised his own expression written on her face. Every reminder of just how similar they were pained Lucas to think about it. To think about how he'd left her.

Lucas drew a long breath, shutting his eyes briefly, on the brink once again. He was standing at the edge of a precipice, staring down at a seemingly endless abyss, no idea how far he was about to tumble. Lucas coughed, looking out across the precipice, grappling for the rights words like they were all that kept him from falling to his death. "Well, you see, the thing is… I haven't found a girl—well I don't want a girl because, well," he fumbled, face a furious crimson. He choked once again, wobbling, hand searching blindly for the glass of water to his right. "Because I'm gay."

"And I'm sorry if this ruins your birthday or if you never want to see me again, but yeah. I'm gay," he continued, voice picking up pace along with his heartbeat. His blood rushed in his ears deafeningly loud over the tinny of the restaurant. He had stepped off the edge and time was standing still.

Mrs. Lallemant's eyes softened further and she reached across the table, taking one of his hands, prying his fingers apart. He hadn't noticed how tightly he hand been gripping his hands into fists. "Lucas, my dear dear boy, from the moment I first saw you, I loved everything about you. Everything. I loved your bright beautiful blue eyes and your little giggles and those precious dimples," she said, hand tightening its grip, "I have loved you since the moment I first saw you and absolutely nothing could change that. If you are happiest with another boy, then I will be the happiest woman alive."

And just like that, Lucas landed. The fall he had expected turned into a leap upwards. Lucas squeezed his mother's hand, breathing shaky and tears welling up in his eyes. "You don't mind? Even though the Bible says—" he began, voice quaking.

Mrs. Lallemant cut him off, shaking her head. "I have no reason to judge you for who you are, for who you love, Lucas. I know God made you just as He wanted you to be because I know you. God wants you to be just the way you are and I have no right to change that." She leaned over the table carefully, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead that sent Lucas into a spiral. Just like that, as if her words or her simple affection had broken a dam, Lucas found himself sobbing in the middle of the restaurant. Great fat tears plummeted down his cheeks, relief settling in his chest so much he felt he could explode with it.

A throat cleared beside the table and when Lucas looked up, their waitress was back, carrying two plates of food and looking uncomfortable.

"What happened to your hand?" his mother asked once the waitress was gone and they were both tucking into their dinner. Lucas froze, knife scraping on the plate and making them both jump. He wiped the lingering dampness from his cheeks, sniffling.

"It's okay. I was being dumb. Something happened with a boy I like and I just got a little carried away with my emotions," he admitted, keeping his reply vague. He couldn't bring himself to say much else. Couldn't find it in himself to tell his mother about how he had hurt himself out of sheer frustration.

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?" she asked. She sounded scared then. Lucas would do anything to keep her from feeling that way again.

Lucas shook his head insistently, grabbing her hand again. "No, mum, don't worry. I couldn't do that." he insisted.

"That boy you liked, does he make you happy? Is he worth getting yourself so hurt like that?"

Lucas thought. He put his cutlery on the plate and looked down at their hands linked across the table. "I would like to think so, yeah."

◇

A little while later, Lucas was in the midst of rambling to his mother about biology, halfway through their shared slice of tiramisu. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in a long time. Even though he could tell his mother had no idea what he was talking about, was probably only half listening, Lucas felt overwhelmed by the fondness that seemed to drip from her every pore. It had been so long since Lucas had been with his mother and yet he felt like he had finally come home again, despite the initial awkwardness.

Lucas was about to ask his mother another question when he felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He ignored it, beginning to ask his mother something before the phone buzzed once again. And again. And again. Lucas sighed, reaching into his back pocket. "I'm sorry, I should probably check this," he apologised, looking down at the screen.

Leo: hey lucas i know we didn't exactly leave off very well but have you seen eliott or know where he might be by any chance?

Leo: we only got back from picking him up a few hours ago and now he's disappeared

Leo: please please call me if you know where he is.

Lucas' eyes bulged out of his skull as he scanned over the messages once, twice, a third time. Eliott was missing again? Where had they been picking him up from? Where was he now? What happened? Why was Leo asking him?

Lucas opened up his conversation with Eliott, fingers shaking, causing him to mistype and retype a hundred times over.

Me: Eliott where are you? Leo said they can't find you. We're all worried.

With another shuddering breath, Lucas put his phone facedown on the table, looking back up at his mother. She was fixing him with a concerned look, head tilted to the side and eyes soft. He felt thoroughly exposed for no reason.

"Is everything alright? You look suddenly worried," his mother asked, taking his hand once again, a sympathetic, soft smile on her lips now.

Before he could reply, he was cut off once again by the buzzing of his phone on the table. He gave his mum an apologetic smile and grabbed the phone, unlocking it faster than he ever had before.

Eliott: Dear Lucas, I want to first say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you the other day and for not telling you sooner. Leo told me you know now. I'm sorry I can't be enough for you. You deserve so much more than me. You deserve the whole world. I'm sorry for this most of all. But I deserve this instead. I definitely do not deserve you, Lucas. In this world I have always been alone and I always will be. I wish I didn't have to leave you but I never want to take you where I'm going. So instead I leave you with this.

Eliott: Lucas, from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. My whole life was just waiting for you. I'm happy for the short time we've had together. I hope in all the other universes that we can be together, that I can be enough for you. I'm sorry.

Below the last message was a picture of a drawing. A two piece cartoon. On one half, a raccoon and a hedgehog embraced in the light of a street lamp. On the other half, the raccoon sat alone, ears down and scowling, the light facing away from him. Underneath in Eliott's familiar scrawl it read: Eliott number 3798 has the courage

Lucas' phone slid from his hand, bouncing onto the floor with a faint crack, landing face down on the carpeted floor. And then Lucas' whole world crashed into the sun.

[eccentriccowboy]

With A Girl Like You// lh

Summary: Luke and Y/N escape their own home when a party goes too far.

Pairing: Luke x reader

Warnings: Swearing, the consumption of breakfast foods at unreasonable hours, mention of street lamps, the writer thought about peanut butter while writing this so if you have peanut allergies this is a no-go, the waitress knows mixed martial arts but thats not at all mentioned nor relevant to the story i just thought you should know so if you’re intimidated by that this might not be the one for you, egg.

dont take me seriously 

also please take note that this is too cheesy for its own good whoops

Word Count: 1.6 k

*****

Listen to: With A Girl Like You - The Troggs

You weren’t the most fond of parties. Of course, you dabbled on occasion, usually when you were feeling confident that night or had the intensions of getting drunk and forgetting it the next day. But neither of those things applied tonight, your body aching after a hard day at work and wanting nothing more than to sling yourself into bed and sleep for the next three days straight.

So you couldn’t help but groan when you walked into your home just to be met with loud music and a crowd of people. You dropped your purse onto the ground in the corner, taking off your shoes to relieve your feet, and walked into the kitchen, only to find more people. 

You knew most of them, and you said your quick hellos before going on search for who must have thrown the party. Luke. Your boyfriend and unfortunately your roommate. 

You found him lying in the living room, sitting on the couch with one arm lazily thrown across the back, a drink in his other hand. Surprisingly, he looked sober, as his attentive gaze perked up when his eyes landed on you.

“Hey, babe,” he started. He patted his lap gently, signalling for you to sit. You followed his orders, mostly for the sake of your feet. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you a bit closer so you two could speak and comprehend what the other was saying above the pounding music.

Once seated you turned to face him. “What is all of this?” you whispered gently in his ear, trying to not cause a scene. Luke looked at you, and seemed to finally take in your appearance, taking notice of the small grimace on your face. 

“Uhm, I invited some friends over, just because I haven’t seem em in a while, being on tour an stuff,” Luke whispered back, “I didn’t think it would get this out of hand. But Mitchy brought his new girl, who brought her friend, who texted her friends. And now it’s become,” he paused and looked around, “this.” 

You sighed. You couldn’t blame Luke for this, he didn’t mean for the party to get this big, and he didn’t know that you had had one of the worst days of your life.

Luke looked back to you, his brow furrowing. “Long day?” he asked.

You managed a smile, closing your eyes nuzzling your head gently into his neck, “Tell me about it,” you exhaled.

He squeezed your hips, kissing your temple lightly. You two stayed like that for a moment, in your own peace opposite to the roaring nightlife moving around you.

“Hey,” Luke said, breaking the silence. “How bout we get outta ‘ere?” 

You didn’t bother opening your eyes, just slowly nodding into his neck and mumbling a small yes please. He picked you up from the back of your thighs, your legs tightening around his waist as he began to walk, luckily drawing little to no attention from the distracted partygoers. He continued to walk out of the house and to his car, opening up the passenger door and gently lowering you into the seat and buckling you up. 

He walked to the driver side of his car, starting the engine and turning on the heated seats, before beginning to pull out of the driveway. The silence of the car and the road this late at night was a stark contrast to the loud music blasting at your home. But as Luke took a right and the house was left out of sight, you could feel the tension that had pent up all day release from your shoulders, the comfort of just driving with your boyfriend relaxing you.

You turned, your sleepy gaze finding itself on Luke. “Where are we going?” you yawned, stretching in an attempt to regain some energy. 

Luke looked over to you, a small smirk finding its way onto his lips. “You’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile nonetheless.

It wasn’t long until Luke was pulling into the parking lot of the 24 hour Diner and turning off the engine, the car becoming surprisingly even more quiet. You recognized where you were, and couldn’t help but smile as you slowly got out of the car.

“Now this decision I can get behind,” you stated, causing Luke to chuckle.

The diner was retro-style, only because what is perceived as retro now is what was normal back in the 1960s. Walking in seemed to be like walking into an alternate universe, the checkerboard floors, the neon blue seats and pink tables, the only waitress on shift hunching over the counter in a mix of fatigue and boredom. The only other person in sight was an old man with a long beard who was sat doing sudoku with a cup of coffee by the end of the counter. 

You and Luke sat yourselves in one of the booths by the window, looking out to see nothing but street lamps and the closed down convenience store across the road. 

It was as if time moved slower around you two, everything more still and silent. You and Luke were not to complain, though, the much needed quiet easily being accepted.

The waitress slowly made her way over to your table, her heels clicking on the floor above the soft sound of the Rolling Stones playing on the jukebox in the corner. 

“What can I get cha to start?” She asked. Luke kept it short but polite, asking for a decaf coffee and a water for himself. You nodded your head and asked for the same. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, your leg intertwined with his underneath the table. You heard a huff from the man doing sudoku, while the waitress brought over your beverages and handed you two menus. 

It was late enough that the diner was offering breakfast foods already. Luke flipped through the menu, humming along to the song from the jukebox softly. You decided on some simple scrambled eggs and toast, closing your menu and leaning on your elbow on the table.

The waitress came along and asked for your orders nonchalantly. You both gave your orders, your voice sounding loud against the silence you were use to.

She walked back to the kitchen, apparently the only one on duty at the moment.

“Poor girl got night-shift,” you observed. Luke only nodded, reaching for your hand across the table. You didn’t mind the silence between you, finding it comfortable.

It was a few minutes of still before the man playing sudoku suddenly got up. You suspected he was going to walk out the door and leave, but instead he walked to the corner of the diner, pulling a dime out of his pocket and inserting it into the jukebox.

The man selected With A Girl Like You by The Troggs, Luke recognizing the song. He started nodding his head to the song, before his eyes lit up with an idea. 

Halfway through the first verse, Luke grabbed both of your hands and pulled you out of the booth.

'Till that time has come that we might live as one Can I dance with you?

Luke sang the lyrics, looking you in the eyes. You laughed, throwing your head back, before placing one hand on his shoulder, your right hand finding his left while his other hand placed where it belonged on your hip. The pain your feet had felt earlier was numbed as you began to get lost in the moment. 

“Ba ba ba ba bah ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba bah ba ba ba ba,” you both sang along, trying your best to waltz together to the beat. 

Your dancing was messy, the two of you tripping over each other’s feet. His height certainly didn’t help, his long legs making it hard to keep up. But it only made you two laugh harder, creating more noise.

The waitress in the kitchen looked up, before looking back down, a small muttering of “Kids these days...” before she continued on making your breakfast. The man playing sudoku only looked up and smiled, before returning back to his puzzle.

So before this dance has reached the end, 

Luke removed his hand from your waist, instead turning you into a spin. To you across the floor my love I'll send, 

You laughed and did the same to him, finding it hard to bring your significantly shorter arms over his head, but carried on nonetheless.

I just hope and pray that I'll find a way to say

Luke, done with his twirl, grabbed both of your hands and pulled you closer.

Can I dance with you, 

Luke whispered the final lyrics, the song continuing on, but he didn’t care. Instead, he connected his lips with yours, pulling you into a kiss while the song faded out. You were the one to break the kiss, a smile finding its way onto your lips instead. Luke returned the smile, before his attention was drawn to the kitchen door that had opened, the waitress walking out with a tray of your food.

You two quickly sat down, as if she hadn’t seen anything from the past three minutes. She placed the plates in front of you, before returning back behind the counter, leaving you and Luke alone to grin at each other from across the table.

“Wow, you’ve got some moves, Hemmings” you joked, “You should dance more often.”

Luke laughed, picking up his fork, “As long as it’s with a girl like you.”

*****

tag list? @rosegold-thorns 

[princeprince81]

Adventure#34: CNY 2020 Celebrations

Went to Joey's uncle house, staying somewhere in West side of Singapore for CNY Celebrations last Friday (Day #14).

Her uncle is in his early 60s, and owned a prawn noodles stall somewhere in the east side of Singapore. Since young, the uncle and wife have been taking care of Joey until she entered university whenever her parents are busy with work. The couple doted Joey very much as they don't have any kid of their own.

It was kinda a standard practice during CNY that the uncle will have an open house to invite his friends and Joey (as she is very close to them) over and we will turn up without fail every year.

We arrived at Joey's uncle house after work around 8 plus. Joey was dressed in a v-neck short dress, red bra and thongs.

"Hello uncle and auntie J, 新年快乐，祝你们身体健康" Joey rushed forward excitedly and greeted them. "So long never see you all already."

"Ya lo, ah girl, 你还敢讲，那么久没有来看我们，也没有来吃虾面了" Uncle J complained as he received the oranges from Joey.

"Come come. 去吃先" Auntie J quickly ushered us in to have our dinner.

While having our dinner at the small dining table (normally only 2 of them staying there), I noticed there were few groups of guests there, ranging from 40s to 60s. It is only through our conversation with uncle J then we found out some are uncle J's hawker friends and some are his drinking kakis. They are stealing occasional glances over to admire Joey and must also been wondering who is this sexy big boobs girl and how is she related to uncle J.

One thing I like about his open house is that all the drinks are free flow. After dinner, we sat at table drinking and catching up with uncle and auntie J as usual. By 11 pm, we already drank quite a fair bit and was feeling high. Most of uncle J hawker friends began making their way back as they had a long day except 5 of uncle J drinking kakis.

"Hello, 可以一起喝吗？" one of the kakis asked as they approached the small dining table.

"可以啊"。" I replied as we all sat and squeezed together around the dining table and introduced each others.

"哦，不知道 J 有这么年轻又漂亮的侄女" one of them exclaimed.

"Haha, 不年轻了，以前读书的时候，每次都去他的店吃好吃的虾面。" Joey shared with them.

"是啊，现在看得出'长很大了' 。我们也很喜欢吃'下面' 。" another one of the kakis teased Joey as he looked at her cleavage cheekily.

"是啊，不小了。你们也喜欢吃虾面？" Joey replied innocently and the group laughed.

I explained to Joey they are referring to her big boobs and eating pussy. Joey realised and replied "Wah lao, I thought what. But it's ok. Mine 也不小啊 and 下面也不难吃. Haha." Joey replied and shocked everyone. I can tell Joey is getting high and maybe horny from the teasing.

After more drinking, one of them suggested playing in between. But the table was abit too small to accommodate 7 of us, so we shifted to the living room and sat on the floor. It was kinda challenging for Joey to cover up as her dress is rather short and she took quite a while before sitting down in a comfortable kneeling position, much to the delight of the 5 of them. In this position she managed to cover the front, but her butt and the rear of the dress will be slightly lifted off the ground.

Halfway through the game, I was feeling horny (am sure the rest of them are horny too) from the views of Joey. I slide my left hand slowly under her dress from behind and caress her butt. Joey turned and looked at me in shock.

"Relax la. Don't look so shocked. This cards got chance one. " the dealer told Joey as he noticed her suddenly shocked look and thought she is asking for my opinion.

"Ya lo. Don't scared. Just play lo." I assured Joey as I ran my finger along her ass crack. Joey continued the game. Bit by bit, I slid my hand further in and pull her thongs aside to rub against her anus and wet pussy. Then using my wet finger, I slowly push into her ass. Joey's breathing got heavier as I slowly invaded her ass. I am surprised how easily my finger went in and Joey didn't resist much. (usually she will stop me when I try finger in her ass).

The pool of money and our excitement builds up as the game continues and Joey controlling hard on her moaning and breathing. It wasn't long there is already 1k plus of money in the pool.

"Girl, 来，敢敢叫出来才爽。你全身穿这么红，可以的。" it was Joey's turn to call and the dealer was teasing her on. Deep down I am wondering did they see what we were doing and Joey's thongs? Did they notice Joey trying to control her moans? What do they mean by wear so red. Did they see her tiny red piece?

"How baby?" Joey looked at me with her controlled horny voice. "Well, you think about it. Up to you. Let us know when you ready." I replied as I moved my finger in her ass a bit faster.

Joey closed her eyes, breathed hard and let out a long deep 'Hmmmm'. "Ok, all in ba. If tio can go back and rest le." she finally opened her eyes and said. She won the whole pool of money, much to her delight, and she stood up jumping around in the middle. Her short red dress was bubbling up and down, exposing few short glimpse of her pussy and whole of her butt as the thongs was pulled aside earlier.

All of us were shocked by the view and I can see everyone was getting a hard on. "Okok, keep the money and packed up already. Very tired liao." I told Joey and spoilt every one's free show. After some quick packing, we all left home. That's before they teased Joey one last time, "别玩得太晚，以后再来，一起吃下面" .

I continued teasing Joey on the way home, playing with her pussy and ass, while sharing with her how everyone there enjoyed their views and got distracted. That's how she win the money.

Once home. We wasted no time and I fingered Joey's wet pussy hard in bed. It wasn't long and there was a big wet patch formed on the bedsheets. After cumming few times, Joey flipped over into doggy position and I fucked her hard. I couldn't help playing with her sexy big wet ass with the slutty anus staring right back at me.

I pulled out my cock and began tongue fucking her anus. Joey was moaning and seems to be enjoying it. I slowly inserted my finger in her ass and she let out a moan. Normally at this stage she would have stopped me, but she seems very horny tonight. I begun finger fucking her wet ass slowly with one hand and playing with her clit with the other.

Next I rubbed my cock up and down her anus to test her reactions. She was still enjoying it. Bit by bit, I push my cock slowly into her ass and start our first anal sex for about 10 seconds. It felt good and tight. She was moaning but after a while she asked me to pull out. What a waste.

We finished up and came together as I fucked her pussy in missionary position. Then we went to wash up. As I am washing up, I am wondering what makes her more horny in past few months and more receptive to anal sex? Is it due to her horniess or she has been exposed to anal sex by others (whom I don't know) recently and she likes it? Nonetheless, I think so long I get to enjoy it, I shouldn't think too much.

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Our Last Words - Chapter 3

Summary:  In a universe where the last words your soulmate speaks to you are printed, Cyrus Goodman wants nothing more than to never meet them. And he definitely doesn’t want it to be the blonde-haired boy in his class.

ALL LINKS IN REBLOG

~~~~~~

Love - Lana del Rey

“I’ll get it!” Cyrus yelled as he ran down the stairs to open the door.

“You came!” he said in excitement, seeing Andi and Buffy armed with popcorn and cold drinks.

“You’re talking as if we haven’t been here since literally yesterday and all we did was go to Andi’s to get popcorn,” Buffy said, laughing at Cyrus’ enthusiasm.

“But it felt like forever,” Cyrus whined jokingly, grabbing the drinks from Andi’s hands, leaving Buffy with the three bags of popcorn.

“Um, hello?! A little help here?”

“Why Buffy? Can’t carry it yourself?” Andi teased, challenging Buffy.

Unable to back down from a challenge, Buffy simply huffed and manoeuvred her way to the kitchen.

“So, who else is coming, Cy?” Buffy asked, setting down the popcorn.

“So Jonah and Libby should be here in about 10 minutes. And Amber said she’ll be coming soon.”

“Amber’s coming?” Andi said, looking up from her phone, in a voice feigning disinterest. She was failing miserably at that.

“Ooh, Amber huh?” Buffy said, bumping her shoulder into Andi’s, clearly enjoying the way the blush was creeping across her cheeks.

“Who else is coming, Cyrus?” Andi asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

“Only TJ.” Now it was Cyrus’ turn to be slightly flustered.

The girls immediately went ‘Ooooohh’ and laughed at Cyrus’ face. He was more than happy to open the door to Jonah and Libby.

Within the next half an hour, Amber and TJ also joined them, both arrivals garnering a round of winking and eyebrow-wiggling directed at Andi and Cyrus respectively.

“So what do you guys want to do?” Cyrus asked, also signing his words.

“Dude, it’s your birthday. You should decide!” Jonah replied, with sounds of agreement from everyone.

“Movie marathon and pizza!”

His response was greeted with loud cheers from everyone in the room until Buffy groaned. “You better not put on some documentary about reptiles, Cyrus or else I’ll never talk to you ever again.”

“Hey, I like watching those documentaries with Cy!” TJ replied, to Cyrus’ surprise.

“Sure, it’s the documentaries you like watching,” Buffy muttered, still very much audible. A chorus of ‘Aww’s sent the two boys blushing like crazy.

“The ‘Mamma Mia!’ movies?” Amber suggested, after everyone in the room had calmed down a bit.

They all needed just one look at each other before Cyrus ran to the laptop and loaded up the first movie.

They spent the next 4 hours just dancing and singing along to the classics that were ‘Mamma Mia!’ and ‘Mamma Mia!: Here We Go Again’. Cyrus looked around, noticing Andi and Amber sticking close to each other the whole time, Amber occasionally pulling in Andi for a dance. He couldn’t help but smile at the pair. They really were oblivious to the other’s affections. Libby and Jonah just seemed happy in the moment, as Jonah constantly tried to twirl Libby, failing miserably nine times out of ten. Buffy danced along with Cyrus sometimes, occasionally bumping into Jonah and Andi, distracting them. Otherwise, she mostly danced alone, smiling. Cyrus felt kind of bad, knowing that she was wishing Marty were there. He really had tried calling him, but like they had realised. The universe just wouldn’t let the two meet after the words had been said.

The times when Cyrus wasn’t dancing with Buffy, he was with TJ. It was a surprise he was alive, to be honest. TJ’s hair was messy with all the dancing, and his face just had this smile of just pure, unadulterated joy. Cyrus wanted to look at his smile forever. That may be creepy, but he couldn’t care much at the moment.

“Hey,” TJ whispered, pulling him aside during one of the scenes. “I got you something for your birthday.”

“Teej, I told you that you didn’t have to…” Cyrus started saying before TJ cut him off.

“I wanted to, okay? Here,” he said, handing Cyrus a paper bag. In it was an adorable soft toy dog with a handmade tag saying ‘Underdog’. And there was also a chocolate chocolate chip muffin.

Cyrus looked up at TJ, and he swore that his heart had melted. Why did TJ Kippen have to be so sweet and sentimental and perfect?

“TJ, I love it! Thank you,” Cyrus exclaimed, hugging TJ tight, keenly aware of his heart going ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom at a million miles per hour.

“I knew you would,” TJ replied, holding him closer.

Cyrus could have stayed there for ages, but a crashing sound made the two jump apart, alerting them that maybe Jonah should not be left near some tables and couches.

*

“Man, I forgot how draining it is dancing for 4 hours,” Amber exclaimed, collapsing into the couch as the credits of the second movie began to roll. The others all followed suit, some falling on top of each other in the process.

“Why Ambs, not got the stamina?” Andi teased, earning a light punch in the shoulder from Amber. Neither meant it, indicated by the looks of utter fondness in their eyes.

“Now what?” Jonah asked, putting an arm around Libby.

“Well,” Buffy said, her voice implying she had a scheme. “We could watch a horror movie…”

“No!” Andi and Cyrus yelled in unison. They were not watching horror movies with Buffy. She always picked the scariest ones, the last one having left them sleepless for a whole month.

“Oh, don’t worry Underdog. I’d protect you from everything,” TJ said, pulling Cyrus to him by the shoulder. Cyrus tried to keep him cool and act normal, but who was he kidding? That was enough to make his heart go crazy.

“Fine, if you wanna suck the fun out of everything.”

“Well, it’s already 10 pm. So we have, what, 5 hours until all of us are asleep?” Andi said.

“We can watch the Hunger Games movies! They’re good, plus we’ve seen them so many times, we might as well watch it another time.” Buffy replied, everyone nodding in agreement.

“Great! I prepared just for this eventuality,” Cyrus said, leaving the room to his friends’ confusion. He returned bearing a huge pile of blankets and pillows.

“Okay guys, here are your options of comforters. Choose wisely, as we won’t be getting up for the next 5 years,” Cyrus announced to the cheers from the group. After everyone had taken their blankets, there was only one left, and TJ and Cyrus had not taken one yet.

“Looks like we’ll have to share,” said TJ, winking at Cyrus. Oh, he was not going to survive.

“Good luck getting any blanket to yourself, Kippen,” Cyrus said, in a mock-threatening tone.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we Goodman?” TJ replied, his voice dropping low.

Cyrus simply rolled his eyes and sat on the couch, keeping a safe distance between him and TJ.

Oh please. What’s the worst that could happen?

*

It was only halfway through the 3rd movie that TJ noticed that Cyrus had fallen asleep on him, his arm snaked around TJ’s waist. Andi and Amber had fallen asleep, cuddling close. Libby and Jonah were signing and texting to each other. And Buffy was munching on popcorn and hugging her blanket, her concentration solely focused on the movie.

In this quiet moment, TJ snuck a glance at the sleeping boy using him as a pillow. The sight of Cyrus’ calm and peaceful face sent TJ’s heart into a frenzy. He tried to move Cyrus onto the pillow, but if he shifted even an inch, Cyrus just held on tighter. Cyrus looked adorable asleep (well, he looked adorable always, but especially when asleep) and TJ’s massive crush on Cyrus did not help him in the slightest.

After some time, of TJ trying to move Cyrus to no success, he just put his arm around him and continued watching. Eventually, the movie sounds became a lullaby, and the warmth coming from Cyrus holding onto him made TJ incredibly comfortable. Laying his head on top of Cyrus’, he soon fell asleep.

*

Cyrus woke up, slightly disoriented, as he noticed that the movies had stopped playing. He must have fallen asleep while still watching the 3rd one, he realised. He also realised, to his slight horror, that he was clinging onto TJ, who also had his arm around him and was resting his head on Cyrus’. He started, and before he could try and control himself, he felt TJ stir awake.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Cyrus whispered, trying to detach himself from TJ in the process.

“No no, it’s okay,” TJ replied, pulling Cyrus closer. “I don’t mind.”

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” TJ said, laughing softly. “My phone’s on the floor, probably out of charge.”

Cyrus lay his head on TJ’s shoulder, calming down a bit after the initial shock of waking up cuddling TJ Kippen. “What time do you think it is?” he whispered.

“Well, it’s still dark out, so like 4 I guess?”

Cyrus held TJ, the weird time somehow giving him a burst of courage? Confidence? Stupidity? Whatever it was, it was there. They lay quiet for a while, the only sound they could hear was each other’s breathing. Against his better judgement, Cyrus whispered, “I’m scared.”

TJ straightened up a bit. “About what, Cy?”

“Soulmates.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to meet a person who I think is the one, and when I find out they are, it’s too late.”

“Yeah, I understand. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you make a person perfect for you, then not have you know until after you’ve lost them forever?”

There was a pause, when TJ asked, “Is there any person you wish is your soulmate?”

Cyrus sighed. “More like the opposite. There is a person who I wish isn’t my soulmate.”

“Oh?” TJ said, his smile coming through his voice. “Do I know them?”

Cyrus looked up at TJ, “Why should I tell you?”

“Come on, Underdog! You have to tell me.”

“Never in your wildest dreams.”

They laughed, but the realisation of the space between them, or lack of, hit them slowly. They were very much in each other’s personal space, but that didn’t matter to them, never had. Prompted by some unexplainable force Cyrus started leaning in ever so slowly and was surprised to see TJ do the same. His gaze flickered down to his lips and the distance between them was closing in and-

“Shoot!” Buffy whisper-screamed, as she fell off the couch. The sound sent TJ and Cyrus jumping apart. “Sorry!” she said, climbing back up.

“I’m just gonna sleep,” Cyrus said, not looking at TJ.

“Y-Yeah, me too,” TJ stammered back, moving to the other side of the couch.

They shared the blanket well enough, and Cyrus lay his head on the back of the couch, but he couldn’t sleep no matter how much he tried. He and TJ had been so close, and if Buffy hadn’t fallen then, who knows what would have happened?

No, he knew exactly what would have happened, and he didn’t know if he was more confused or scared.

*

The next morning, as the group packed up their things and left the Goodman residence, Cyrus still didn’t know what to say to TJ.

“Thanks for coming, Teej,” he said, setting for a simple one.

“No problem, Underdog. I had fun,” TJ replied, his eyes attempting to avoid Cyrus’.

“I’ll see you in school then?”

TJ nodded and walked away as Cyrus went into his house. He turned around and looked at TJ one last time, still confused about the events of the previous night. Shaking his head, he went back into his house.

A few moments later, TJ turned to look back at Cyrus just as he closed the door, emotions running fast through his mind.

~~~~~

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