#was supposed to send in my summer availability for work today and didn’t because i forgot

[dirtbra1n]

worst thing actually about the final weeks of the semester is the like. I know I could be doing things that I’m not doing for reasons that are technically in my control but aren’t actually. and I know I’ll be fine in the end, because I always always am, but it will suck the entire time. because it always, always does

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicole*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicole has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

Next→

[thenightshift-if]

Dev log | week 14

Today it’s just me with my sunglasses and my laptop, chilling on the balcony, sipping on a cold energy drink to give me the strength to figure out what the hell I’m doing with the prologue. But hey, it’s warm enough to spend time on the balcony which is a huge boost to my motivation because that means summer’s not that far away!

Sorry I’m posting this late: I was so busy last week that there wasn’t much to report anyway, as I had to prioritize other responsibilities. Really the only TNS related thing I did was write a lot of prompts, which did help with my minor writer’s block so there’s that. I wrote about 4k words just for those last weekend. Actually more because I didn’t count all the scenes I wrote that I decided to save for later! Again, thank you so much for sending in those prompts, there are still many that I haven’t got the chance to write yet but I’m working on them!

As for the game itself, I’m thinking of including a thorough character creator in the beginning of the game instead of sprinkling all the customization choices throughout the story. This is hugely inspired by Albie from @zorlok-if, whose preview for their game Zorlok is incredible, and traditional RPG video games which usually have the character creator right at the start of the game. (But please don’t take this as meaning that I’m going for the level of detail Albie has because I don’t think I could pull it off, they have my respect for that haha!)

My reasoning is that a separate character creator would free me from the constraints of having to come up with situations / scenes that would allow the player to choose their MC’s appearance in a natural, immersive way. This would also mean that I could include flavour text for the MC’s appearance and other physical characteristics from the very start, and it would be easier for me to keep track of what information I know about the MC in each scene.

I do think there are some physical characteristics that could still be determined while playing without breaking immersion, like your MC’s height which is easy enough to include within a choice. But features like freckles, tattoos, scars, body hair, etc. are pretty difficult to bring up in a way that doesn’t feel jarring, at least from my point of view as the writer haha.

Let me know what you think, and also what kind of customization options you’d like if you feel like it! 😊

Oh, and I worked on one of the romanceable supporting characters. Kinda spoiler-y thoughts about them under the cut! (The spoilers are extremely vague.)

I’m debating whether I should consider them a main romance option or not! They weren’t supposed to have such a big role, but the story demanded it. It’s difficult to decide because they kind of fall short of the main cast - they don’t appear as often, at least in the current plot outline, but considering the role they play I can’t really see them only as a no-strings-attached fling (but that could still be an option with them if that’s what the MC is looking for).

One option is that I would go back after the game’s finished and add their route. Which would mean that they wouldn’t be a main romance in the “base game”, but might be available in that upgrade, kind of like a DLC. (Doesn’t mean it’d cost money necessarily.) Would that be weird? Do I have the self-restraint to stop myself from writing their romance scenes while working on the base game? Lmao.

Ahh, so many difficult decisions to make! Writing is suffering, truly.

[twinklelilstarkey]

I absolutely LOVE your GoodGirlxBadGuy!Rafe and I have to ask. I would love love love if you could do something with JJ again, but like where the Good Girl asks Rafe to back down/do something for her & he does it & all of his friends or whoever is there is like woah. Sorry if this literally makes no sense. You do whatever you want with this. I don’t really know what I’m asking for, but you’re the bomb so I have faith you’ll make it amazing

A/N.: You absolutely do not need to worry about making sense in this blog. I will not ever judge anyone by what they write to me. I know how confusing it is to ask someone for a request, I’ve been there.

Soft [Part 1] - Rafe Cameron

Words: 3.6k+

Type: Fluff & Angst

Warnings: Swearing. Female!Reader. Rafe vs JJ. Annoying as all hell non canon JJ. Sorry, it had to happen. Bad boy x Good Girl trope.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

You should read this before reading this imagine just for some context. 

Part 2

Today is a beach day. Something you can never get enough off. Especially with your friends.

Rafe, like every other day of summer break, has only been able to get out of bed after midday, so let’s just say that you’re a little late. 

All because, Mister Cameron thought yesterday was a good night to play COD with Topper and Kelce until 5.

You have been awake since at least 10am, and Rafe only let you get off bed at 10:30. His arms are like complete iron around you when in bed. It’s almost impossible to get out of there. “Almost” being the keyword.

You had your breakfast, put on your bikini/bathing suit and waited around the house for Rafe to get off his ass and start getting ready to leave. 

You did try to pull him out of bed but to no avail, that man did not move a muscle.

And when he was out of bed, the clingiest person ever. You could be screaming in his ear that he needs to go get ready, since your friends are already waiting for him, but he does not even flinch.

Walking around your house with only boxers on, whining about not knowing what he wants for breakfast and then grabbing you out of nowhere and throwing onto the couch “to cuddle”, as he had said.

Your phone was already blowing up with messages from his and your friends, because they were already at the beach waiting since 11am. 

An hour as passed and you’re only walking to the beach now. How amazing.

Rafe is not even half awake yet. Dark sun glasses hide his half open eyes, heavy with sleep, and you’re almost dragging him down the dirt path so he doesn’t fall to the side.

“You’re unbelievable” You giggle as he sighs dramatically at how much you still have to walk.

The walk wasn’t as bad as he thought. It just took you less than 5 minutes to get to your friends. But that isn’t going to make him stop whining about how tired he is.

“Look who decided to show up” Topper screams from the towels, drink on his hand, “What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m tired, leave me alone” He groans at his best friend, who completely ignored him.

You all walk closer to everyone’s towels. Your friends are all sun bathing, sitting up to greet you and Rafe, while his, are all at the water.

You give Rafe his towel and he’s quick to lay it on the ground and lay down, probably planning to go back to sleep as soon as he rested his head over the sad. 

You, on the other end, took your sweet time with your towel and talking to your friends, siting away from the harsh light of the sun under the umbrella, just for now, right next to Rafe.

Rafe, sensing you close, lifts his head from his towel and decides to use your leg as his pillow instead. Not that you’re complaining, at least his head is not all that heavy.

You talk to your friends about everything and anything, and Rafe is more than asleep beside you in less than 5 minutes. Peacefully going into his dreams.

“Of course, they had to come to this beach” One of your friend comments, sitting up and bringing her glasses up to see whoever she’s talking about.

You follow his gaze to find none other than a group of Pogues, John B, Kiara, Pope and JJ. People you supposedly met at a party, but you do not remember of. You just remember Topper telling you to stay away from them the day after that.

“What’s so wrong about them?” Your other friend asks.

“They’re just not these guys’ favorites” She answers, pointing at Rafe and the vacant towels next to him, his friends’.

You decide not want to listen to anything else since it only sounds like trouble to you, and you look down at Rafe. Still fondly asleep, eyes closed and face squished on your leg.

You lay your hand over his head and, for your entertainment, you start playing with his hair.

The infamous group of Pogues scream something in the distance to each other, and you look up at them, seeing them all run to the water, leaving their things scattered around the sand. One of them stay behind, the girl. You assume, Kiara.

She starts picking all her friends’ stuff from the ground while shaking her head, putting them all in a pile before she starts taking off her clothes to join her friends in the water.

“Why the fuck are they here?” Kelce asks from in front of you.

He had just come back from the water, and you didn’t even notice him walking this way before his question.

“No idea” Your friend answers.

He lifts his eyebrows as if to not act annoyed and takes a look at the naked back of the man sleeping beside you. 

A grin appears over his lips and he looks at you, he has a plan. Oh no.

“Has he been sleeping for long?” He asks you and you shake your head, not wanting to be caught talking in the alteration that is about to happen. “Good”

He reaches from his empty cup from the towel beside Rafe and does a run for it, going to fill his cup with the cold salted water before saying anything else.

He comes back not even a whole minute later with his cup filled to the brim, guilt eats you up inside slightly as you watch him, and as he gets close enough to do it, Rafe lifts his arm in the air.

“Don’t you dare” He groans.

Kelce looks at his half asleep friend in shock and Rafe turns his head to take a good look at him. The girls beside you fall into laughter, as you try to hold in your own.

“How did you even know?” Kelce asks in shock, eyes widen in shock.

Rafe turns on the towel, now laying in between your legs on his back, head resting a bit on one of your legs.

“I have super powers, remember?”

(...)

It has been an hour. 

Rafe has already slept everything he needed and now he’s in the water with the guys. You, after much convincing, decided to stay with the girls instead.

You sip Rafe’s cold drink, which rests on your hand, and you try not to cringe at the taste of the alcohol. 

Can he drink anything that does not have alcohol?

You were so distracted with the bright blue drink that you didn’t even notice who is walking right past you and your girls.

“Can we help you?” Your friend asks the pair.

Kiara, the only one you can identify by the name, is standing next to a guy. Someone you have no idea who it is. Is he JJ? John B? or Pope? 

As they walk by the towels of all your friends, a few feet away, Kiara keeps looking at you.

“No, thank you” She answers, “We just someone we recognized. Y/N, right?” She asks pointing at you.

All your friends look at you confused and you look at her with no emotion that can explain anything to them.

“Yeah, that’s me” You answer.

Your tone was enough to make Kiara understand that you weren’t recognizing them as well as they recognized you.

“We met at last week’s party remember?” She asks, trying to help you out. “At the bonfire pogue and kook party?”

“I remember the party, but I... don’t really remember talking to you guys” You answer with a slight forced smile, “Sorry?”

“No need to apologize” The boy says, holding his hand up as if to dismiss you, “You probably were just a little too drunk than we were” He says as he sends a glare at Kiara, almost as if he was telling her to shut up.

You nod at the silence and your friends sense the tense air building up. 

And the sight of all the guys coming back from the water isn’t making anything seem better either.

“Well, I believe you guys can go now” Your friend says, eyes hidden by her glasses as she steals glances at the guys to check how close they are.

“Yeah, we should” The guy says, grabbing the girl by the wrist.

You look over at the guys walking back to the towels and your heart speeds up slightly at the idea of this causing a scene. A violent one, to be more precise. Rafe is such in a good mood, you really don’t want anything to ruin that.

“Heyward and Carrera, what the hell are you two doing here?” Topper asks in a malicious playful tone as the pair walks away, or rather, as the supposed “Heyward” pulls Kiara away.

Your view of all the pair walking away is cut short as Rafe stands in front of your towel, catching your attention. He walks carefully between towels and takes a seat in front of your seated form, letting some cold droplets of water fall into your warm skin.

You hiss at how cold the water and your boyfriend are and he takes the drink from your hand with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you wipe the water from your skin.

“Sure did” He says before downing his whole drink in one go.

He looks back at you to find you frowning at him. The fact that you fought a whole cringe and body shiver with a small sip of that drink and Rafe just took it all in one swig is... concerning. 

“What?” He chuckles, leaning in closer to you to be under the umbrella that is shielding you two from the sun.

“That was... disgusting” You say slowly with your frown and he chuckles.

He leans in quickly and steals a kiss, making you close your eyes for a bit. You don’t push him away, but it doesn’t take him long to pull away to look at you. 

Some of the guys turn to look at you as they hear the sound of the kiss.

“Find a room, Jesus!” One of the guys screams with a playful tone, making the guys join as well.

“Every fucking time we go out” Topper joins in. “Always the same thing with the two of you” And also does Kelce.

You roll your eyes as Rafe laugh along with them.

Not too far from you, Pope and Kiara get back to their towels, one more visibly concerned than the other.

“Stop staring, JJ” Pope warns his friend.

“I’m not” The blonde says while looking away.

Kiara takes a seat with the boys.

“I still don’t see why they’re dating. She’s, like, the nicest person I know” Kiara groans, again, making the boys look at her.

“Did she say anything when you two went over there?” John B asks, thanking Pope, for the drink he gave him, right away.

“Yeah, she said she didn’t remember us. And it looked like she was saying the truth too. Her friends are just straight up garbage, though” Kiara explains, leaning against Pope.

“Maybe she really doesn’t remember us” Pope starts with a shrug, “And maybe, she’s actually happy with Rafe Cameron- Guys, this is ridiculous. Since when do we care about what the Kooks do with their lives?”

“This is all because JJ got a crush on her” John B says with a chuckle, gaining a glare from the blonde, “What, dude? It’s true. You always go for the most expensive and most difficult meat to get in the market. It’s your fault why we’re all doing spy work today”

“Whatever” JJ says while shaking his head.

(...)

“No, guys! This makes no sense, we need more people if we’re going to play like this” One of the guys’ says as everyone walks around and ducks under the net to move to the other side.

Everyone decided to do a game of volleyball not too long ago, but since the guys want to play with larger teams, and the girls’ smaller. 

This is all taking way too long to decide.

Rafe has his arm over your shoulders, holding you close as everyone yells at each other about the rules and who is on what team.

“We have to separate the power couple. Ain’t no way I dealing with both with their result. I can hear so much whining from losing” Another guy yells while sending a look at the two of you, making you laugh beside Rafe.

“Okay. But you guys, ugh! We need at least 3 more people to play with us! Don’t you know math?!” A girl from your group screams.

“We can join”

Everyone shuts up and looks towards where that voice had just came from, behind you all. 

Exactly where the certain group of Pogues are standing confidently. Well, all of them except for that “Heyward” kid. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here.

You don’t judge him.

“Since when do you play volleyball, Maybank?” Topper asks the blonde guy from the group.

“I always played. You’re just not that acquittanced with all my skills” The guy answers, making Kelce laugh.

“Using big boy words, ugh, JJ? Since when did that happen?” Kelce butts in.

The blonde, you mean, JJ, ignores him.

“Are we playing or not?” He asks. Silence, “What? You’re scared of losing to a Pogue”

With that, JJ sends a quick glare over at Rafe, who seemed more than unfazed with all of this, having his fun with playing with the volleyball on one of his hands.

“Alright, who’s playing from your group?” One of your friends asks.

They split, Kiara steps forward, just like the other guy, a brunette.

“Okay, let’s do the teams then” Topper says, “Rafe. Give me the ball”

Rafe snaps back to reality and throws him the ball, letting his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist.

They spend a few minutes all discussing, which made you learn everyone’s names in Kiara’s and JJ’s group. The “Heyward” kid is Pope, who will not be playing but sitting on the sidelines, and the brunette kid is John B. 

Everything makes sense now.

“Okay” Kelce announces, “Rafe let go of Y/N and go to the other side of the net” He starts, making the boy beside you scowl and take a step back. “John B go with him and...”

He names everyone, pointing at each one, and you stand with your team. The team that has both JJ and Kiara. Doesn’t seem all that bad. For now at least.

As everyone scattered around to their positions, JJ stayed on the position behind you and you can’t help but find his sudden glances a bit too strange. 

Are you supposed to start a conversation with him or something? What did you even do at that party, good God!

The game begins and almost everyone’s competitive spirit jumps out of their skin. 

From doing way too much for just a innocent beach game to insanely loud celebrations. This game is just going to end badly and you know it.

Bad thing for you when you did a quick forearm pass to save your friend from any complaints from your team, and it hit one arm more than the other close to your wrist. Meaning: it hurt like a bitch for a good moment.

As everyone talks between themselves as one of the girls runs to go grab the ball, you look down at your arm and cringe a little at how it stung with the slightest touch of your fingers.

“You okay?” Someone asks as they step close to you and you look up to find JJ, walking up really close to you.

“Yeah...” You say with a shy smile, “I just hit my arm wrong”

As his hands were about to reach your aching wrist, a shout stops him.

“Don’t touch my girl, Maybank!” Rafe shouts from his side of the net, eyes glaring at the guy next to you. “Stay the fuck away!”

JJ looks up at your boyfriend and doesn’t even flinch at the glare or the shout. Kiara hisses his name and the boy just holds his hands up almost as if in surrender.

He doesn’t say anything back to Rafe, which surprised everyone from his friend group. You, on the other hand, are just expecting the worst to come crumble down, now that you know how much they don’t appreciate each other.

The game continues once your friend is back and, now, many points later, both Rafe and JJ stand as middle blockers. The blonde walks to stand in front of your boyfriend, who is trying to not even spare him a look.

Your friend starts talking to you right in the same second as JJ opens his mouth to whisper at Rafe, distracting you enough not to catch it.

“Nobody can touch your girl, uh, Rafe?” He whispers, “I knew you were bad with women, but, my god, you treat them like property too?”

Rafe scoffs at his words.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, uh?”

“Funny” JJ says with a smile. “How long have you two been dating?”

“That doesn’t concern you”

Rafe looks away from him at you to see you talking to your friend, completely entertained. All of that while he fights his urge to shut up the guy in front of him as the two stand in silence.

“Is she any good?” JJ pokes the bear again, “Sure, does look like it”

Rafe looks at him as he clenches his jaw.

“Ooh, did I struck a nerve?” He continues, now gaining the attention of some of the people around them. “Come on, bro, I’m sure you can share” He shrugs, laughing a bit.

Rafe’s blood is boiling in anger with all of JJ’s words, plus his little innocent laughs that just make his voice even more obnoxious.

“Just shut up” He says, shaking his head a bit.

“Or what?” JJ continues, “What are you going to do, uh?” He tilts his head to the side amused, “What are you going to do if I just grab your little girlfriend and take her with me?”

Rafe keeps quiet, almost in physical pain from holding back so hard.

“I’m sure she would like that” He smiles widely, “To be my own little slut”

That’s exactly what it took for Rafe to snap and take a step forward, closer to the net and closer to JJ, who as a reflex stepped back.

“Where are you going, uh?” Rafe asks with a fakest smile he could pull off, “You had all of that to say and now you’re backing up?”

Everyone looks at the two guys as JJ steps back and Rafe ducks under the net to get to the guy.

“Come on. Keep talking. Keep saying all you were just whispering to me” Rafe says, making Topper and Kelce duck under the net too to be his back up.

John B follows them and stands beside his friend. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

Rafe gives JJ a slight push as the blonde smirks at the taller boy in front of him, and stumbles back a little.

“Rafe” You start while walking close to him. 

He is not doing this here. Oh, hell no.

“Come on, let’s go! You were so brave a few seconds ago and now you’re backing up like a little bitch, let’s go, bro.” He continues.

“Rafe, stop” You hiss at him as you try and get closer. “Please, don’t do this”

He looks away from the boy in front of you to look at you for a slight second, chest moving rapidly in pants of the adrenaline circling his system.

You move past Topper and Kelce and stand in front of him, not giving a crap that a whole fight is about to start right where you’re standing.

“You promised” You whispered only for him to hear, giving his chest a slight push.

He looks away from you to send a glare at JJ and slowly takes a step back from the altercation.

“No fucking way” JJ says out loud before letting out a chuckle, “She got you whipped, uh? Oh my god” He whispers in disbelief the last part.

You fight your urge to turn to the boy yelling behind you, and just lay your hands over Rafe’s abs, pushing him back further.

“What happened to big bad Rafe? The little Kook prince who used to beat everyone up?” He continues to bicker.

“Ignore him, please” You plead as Rafe rests his hands over your wrists, “You’re better than this”

He looks down at you for a second and nods, gaze softening a little as he takes a little breath.

“Daaamn, you’re really her little bitch, dude! I can’t believe it” He continues, “You’re actually going soft. Rafe Cameron is going sooooft!”

You shake your head at the words and push Rafe again for another step back. Rafe doesn’t do much, he steps as you push him and keeps quiet.

After some staring, he turns back and walks over back to the towels, probably to get his things.

“Damn!” He exclaims from behind you, exaggerating once again, “Come on, sweetheart, you can do so much better!”

You finally turn around and face the boy, who seems to not want to shut up. 

The large group people that are your friends and that aren’t also walking away to get their things, open up like the Red Sea so that you could glare at JJ.

“What? There’s a lot of free guys out there who-”

“Yeah, no shocker that you’re one of the them” You say back, “Just grow the fuck up and move along, you’re nothing but obnoxious at this point”

Some of your friends and Rafe’s stare at you in awe, right as JJ shuts his mouth.

You turn back around to go after Rafe, who is already putting on his shirt, and walk over to him..

You get to your boyfriend and grab your things. Trying to be as quick as you can, taking his hand in yours once you have everything in your other hand or over your shoulder. 

And now, only home awaits you.

Is this any good? I feel kinda judgy over my work today, and I’m sure if this is good. Hope it is!

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: Quarantine

A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.

Words: 4K

Warnings: None

Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony

Waves

Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”

Summer!

Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???

She lives!

Sis, blink twice if you need help.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”

Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”

Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!

Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.

What life? We all been in quarantine.

Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.

“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”

Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.

I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..

I’m scared omg.

Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”

Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.

Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.

“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”

It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.

“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”

I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!

So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?

The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.

^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.

“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”

I really needed to hear this today.

Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..

I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.

Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.

“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”

Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”

Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.

“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”

Please don’t cry, bestie.

This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.

Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????

I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.

My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.

“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”

I really appreciate her honesty.

Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.

Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.

These comments are not passing the vibe check.

Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?

“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.

@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️

“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”

Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!

Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend

I still say they smashed idc

It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.

^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.

“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”

She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.

“Punk.”

“Kid.”

Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”

He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”

“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”

“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”

“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”

Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”

“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”

He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”

“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”

“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”

“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”

“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”

“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”

“I resent that.”

“Is it a lie though?”

He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.

I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.

Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..

Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…

Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..

^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.

As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.

“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”

“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.

She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”

“We did not.”

“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”

“Fake news.”

She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”

He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”

“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”

“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”

“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”

“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”

Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴🥴

I never realized how arrogant she is……

LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.

Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.

Their friendship is so goals omg

@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches

Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”

Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”

@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.

She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”

“Aren’t you guys married?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”

Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”

“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”

“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”

“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”

“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”

“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”

He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”

“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”

Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.

@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.

Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.

“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.

“Hello, Sandcastle.”

“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.

“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re mean.”

“Christopher, you are literally a child.”

“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.

She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.

Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf

It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.

^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.

Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.

“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”

“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”

“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.

“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”

Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”

“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”

She laughed aloud. “Funny.”

“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”

“Christopher!”

“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”

Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”

“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”

“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”

Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Tike.”

Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”

“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.

���You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”

“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”

“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.

Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”

“I didn’t say that.”

Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”

She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”

“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”

“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.

“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”

“Always,” Christopher agreed.

“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”

Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.

“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”

“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”

“Or, I can come to you—“

“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.

Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.

“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”

“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”

“And…we talk.”

“After the horizontal tango—“

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“

“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”

“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”

“He gets reception in the box?”

“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”

He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”

“Christopher!”

[redhoodssweetheart]

Star-Crossed Lovers Part Two

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes @sarcasmismyfirstlove​

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Reader has an assumed name in this (she is not named, but she goes by Sophia Turner since she is in hiding)

Description:  Y/N now lives in Metropolis, she likes her life, but she misses the one she lost.  Jason has spent eight months trying to find her, but to no avail.  Maybe they truly weren’t meant to be.

A/N: I originally wasn’t going to post this part so soon.  But I got inspired today and couldn’t stop writing it.  I hope y’all enjoy.  And please pretend that’s not a notebook for school okay.  I’m too lazy to go looking for something new right now. 

Her window was open letting in a nice spring breeze.  Dinner was cooking in the oven and she was reading over the events from that day.  It had been eight months since Y/N had hopped off the bus at the Metropolis station and entered the motel she would be staying at for the next few days. That was when she had found a quaint apartment that would do until she got on her feet.

Her phone buzzed and she looked over at it.

Clark: I need a favor, Sophie.

Sophie.  The name she had assumed when she moved to Metropolis.  Her full name was Sophia Turner.  Sionis was more than likely dead, but Y/N wasn’t taking any chances.  She hadn’t stopped looking over her shoulder since that night, and sometimes she would dream that he had found her. 

In her dreams sometimes he was torturing her, but sometimes it was Red sitting in that chair.  He was begging her to do something while Sionis laughed sadistically and said, “My little puppet ain’t gonna do shit, Red.  She used you.”

“No!”  Y/N would cry when she registered the betrayal on Red’s face.  

She would sit up straight in her bed and gasp before the dream went any further.  Most of the time she would look at the clock and see it was still in the early hours of the morning.  

Now she was staring at the text from Clark and sighed.

Sophia:  I’m listening, but you’ll owe me, Kent.

Clark was a good guy.  A little flighty at times, but that was part of his charm.  He was the one that had taken the risk on her when she had gone to the Daily Planet trying to get a job.  He never abused that either.  He was a genuinely good guy, something that had unnerved Y/N at first, but now she was grateful for it.

Clark:  I’m supposed to be meeting with Lex Luthor tomorrow to ask him about the Superboy project, but I’m needed elsewhere.  Sort of a family emergency.  Do you think you can cover for me with Lex?

Lex was Metropolis’s biggest asshole.  And she could eat him for breakfast.

Sophia: Sure thing.  Need me to water your plants while you’re away?

Clark:  Please?  I’ll leave the key to my place in my top desk drawer, just pick it up tomorrow when you come in.  You’re a lifesaver, Sophie. 

A lifesaver….  Sure.

Jason came home to the manor at least once a week for a good home cooked meal and so he wouldn’t be alone at the safehouse.  He hadn't returned to the one that he and Y/N had always frequented.  He couldn’t, she was still haunting the place.  Tonight however when he entered the manor he heard Dick and Tim arguing.

“You need to tell him,” Dick hissed.  “He deserves to know the truth.”

“No, I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t,” Tim spat back.  “Plus I haven’t even found Sionis yet.  How would it look if Red Hood showed up in a city other than Gotham?  Sionis knows about them, and Y/N would be compromised.”

Jason’s breath hitched at the sound of her name.  Tim knew?  Tim knew and hadn’t told Jason anything.

He threw open the door so hard that it let a dent in the wall, Dick cringed knowing that Alfred was going to be mad at that.  Tim looked coolly at Jason, unbothered by the display.  “Where is she, Replacement?”

“Who?”  

Jason was starting to see red.  “You know damn well who.  Y/N.  Where is she?  What the fuck did you do?”

Dick came over to Jason and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but it was roughly tossed off by Jason, “Jay--”

“Don’t,” he snapped, his gaze going to Dick.  “Don’t you dare.  Tim knows something and I want to know what it is.”

Bruce entered the kitchen, having heard the raucous that his boys were causing.  “Tim, Dick, I need a moment alone with Jason.”  They nodded and swiftly made their exit.  Bruce leaned against the counter, “Y/N’s story about how she came to work with Sionis was true.”  Jason looked at Bruce confused.  “Except I met her a month before she met you.”

“What?”  Jason’s tone relayed the shock he felt.

Bruce closed his eyes, “She got mixed up with the wrong people because of her boyfriend and after Sionis killed him he kidnapped her and forced her to take on the role as a bodyguard.  Commissioner Gordon came to me with a note from an anonymous source from someone in Sionis’s organization telling him to send the Bat to a certain location.  I met with Y/N and she told me that she wanted out, that she didn’t want to be payment for her ex’s misdeeds.  She fed me information and in exchange I promised to set her free.”

“So you knew that she was going to fake her death this entire time?!”  Jason’s anger was returning.  He had spent the last eight months agonizing over where she could be, turning over every stone only to come up with a dead end.  And this entire time Bruce had known it was a ploy all along.

“Yes, but  didn’t know the two of you had been involved.  She never disclosed that to me, and I didn’t expect her to tell me things she did in her free time.”  Bruce looked regretful, “Jason, I think you were the only normal relationship in her life and I think you brought her some semblance of happiness.”

“Apparently not enough to tell me the plan,” he said bitterly.

Bruce pulled something from his pocket and passed it over to Jason, “It’s from her.  I don’t know where it came from, but if I had to guess I wouldn’t be able to figure it out either.  I haven’t read it, but maybe she will answer some of your questions.”  With that, Bruce took his leave.

Dear Red,

By now you probably know that I’m not dead.  Maybe you even know that I met with Batman a month before I ever even met with you.  That was purely coincidental.  I didn’t plan on things progressing like they did between us.  It made my job a whole hell of a lot more complicated that it needed to be.  And for what it’s worth I’m sorry for how it all went down, but Red, I hope you understand that I couldn’t tell you.  That was just not an option.

I’m somewhere safe for now.  I have been for awhile, just blending in and living my life to the fullest that I can.  I hope you’re doing well too and not getting too many bullet wounds.  Who’s going to patch you up now that I’m not there :p

He chuckled at the little hand drawn face.

I do miss you, Red.  Our banter.  Your kisses.  How you made me feel normal for a few hours a night.  Even with the mask on I could still pretend we were just two average people living our lives.

We were dealt a shitty hand, and as I told you that night we truly are just star-crossed lovers.  I’ll see you in the next life, Red.  Maybe that one will be kinder to us, and maybe I can finally see what color your eyes are.  Can I tell you what color I think they are?  Blue, I always imagined you had the prettiest shade of blue eyes.  Like the sky on a summer day.  Cloudless and beautiful.

I need to cut this short before I start crying on the page.  Take care of yourself, Red.  I’ll be waiting for you at the River Styx or maybe you’ll be waiting for me.  And I’ll finally know your real name and what color your eyes truly are.

Goodbye, Red.

Y/N

Jason stared at your name signed at the bottom for the longest time and finally when he tore his eyes away from it, he neatly folded it and put it back in the envelope.  He then headed up to his room and stored the letter in one of his drawers, not wanting anyone to disturb it.

The Daily Planet was bustling when Y/N arrived to work the following morning.  Clark - who was usually in before her - was nowhere to be seen.  She hadn’t expected to see him, but it was still weird.  

Wandering over to his desk she found the key like he had promised and stuck it in her pocket before heading to her own desk and preparing for the meeting with Lex.  Lois stopped by her desk to say good morning and chit chat for a few minutes before going to work on her own assignments.  Around ten thirty Y/N headed out to LexCorp.

“Mr. Kent was supposed to be interviewing Mr. Luthor,” the receptionist said.

Y/N kept the forced smile on her face, “Yes, that’s true, but Mr. Kent unfortunately had an emergency that has taken him out of the city and he asked me to fill in.”  She showed the receptionist her credentials.  “I am more than qualified to handle the interview today.”

“It’s fine Lacy,” a new voice added and Y/N turned to see Lex standing there with a smile on his face.  “I was alerted of the change last night, Mr. Kent was nice enough to email me and let me know.  Miss Turner, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Luthor,” she responded.  As she made to leave the receptionist area she shot a scathing look at the girl behind the desk who was frowning.  She probably thought Y/N was some groupie waiting to throw herself at Lex.

As if.

The two of them made it into Lex’s office and he offered her something to drink.  “Water, coffee, tea?  Just say the word and I can have it here for you immediately.”

“No thank you, I’m quite all right,” the quicker that she could get this interview over the better.  She got her recorder set up and looked to Lex, “Clark informed me that he was going to be talking to you about the Superboy project, is that correct?”

“Yes it is, everyone has been dying to know more about the program,” he responded.  “The world needed a Superman, as I’m sure you’re aware Superman was thought to be dead there for a good while.”

Y/N had known that, although she had been in Gotham at the time more concerned with her own welfare than that of a superhero that had supposedly died.  “I am, so you decided to respond and give Metropolis hope then?  That is what Superman represents, is it not?”

There was a shift in Lex’s smile that Y/N picked up on, but she wasn’t going to push him on it.  He apparently had a dislike of Superman, but if he didn’t like him then why create a clone?  “Yes it is, and yes I wanted to give this city some hope that everything was going to be okay.  That LexCorp would make sure that while the big, bad Superman was away I would be the one to look after us.”

Y/N hummed, “Mr. Luthor, how long have you been working on this project?  This doesn’t seem like an overnight solution and you seemed to unveil it fairly quickly?”

“Are you trying to insinuate something, Miss Turner?”  Lex’s eyes narrowed.

Y/N’s smile turned predatory, “No sir, just merely asking some questions.  I wondered how something as complex as replicating Superman’s powers took place so quickly.  And how?  How did you replicate Superman’s powers?”

“I had some of Superman’s DNA on hand, a gift from the Man of Steel himself,” Lex replied coolly.  

Hardly, Y/N thought.  She knew how these heroes worked, their identities were pivotal in maintaining some semblance of a normal life outside of hero hours.  There was no way that Lex had legally obtained that DNA sample he claimed to have gotten from Superman.  “It sounds like you and Superman are close, would you say that the two of you are friends?”

“Oh yes,” Lex matched her smile as if trying to intimidate her.  What he didn’t know is she had been around some of the worst Gotham had to offer and he didn’t frighten her in the slightest.  “We were very close.”

“You must have been crushed when everyone thought that he had died.”  She saw through his smile and the lies.  Superman and Lex weren’t close, but he wasn’t going to say that in something that would be printed in the Daily Planet.

“I was, it was like losing an old friend,” Lex rested a hand over his chest for dramatic effect.

Before she could ask her next question they heard someone saying, “Sir, sir you can’t go in there.”

The door to Lex’s office opened and revealed Bruce Wayne.  Y/N had never had the pleasure of meeting him when she had lived in Gotham.  She hadn’t run in those circles, but she would know the billionaire anywhere.  “Lex, we need to speak now.”  His gaze landed on her and she froze.  For the first time in a while she felt exposed under the intense look he was giving her.

“Could it wait, Bruce,” Lex forced out.  “I am in a meeting with the lovely Miss Sophia Turner here.”  

Y/N turned to Lex, still feeling the weight of Bruce’s stair on her back as she did so, “It’s all right, Mr. Luthor.  You seem to have some important business to attend to right now.  Thank you for your time.  The article should be out by Friday if all goes well.  Email me with any other information you can disclose about the Superboy project that would be pertinent for the article.  Have a nice day,” then she fled as quickly as she could.

Bruce watched Y/N flee the office.  Sophia Turner, huh?  He wasn’t surprised to find her living under an assumed name.  He looked to Lex who was glaring at him, “Did I interrupt something?”

Lex’s eyes narrowed, “You damn well know you did.  Now what do you want?”

“You have a leak,” Bruce said, causing Lex’s face to pale.

Y/N made it back to her desk without any other blasts from her past and she began to go over the information she had from her interview and checked her email to see that Lex’s assistant had sent over any other relevant information she would need to type up the remaining gaps.  

A few hours later she was closing up shop and heading to Clark’s to make sure his plants didn’t die.  As she moved down the sidewalk her mind drifted to thoughts of Red Hood, wondering what he was up to and if he were okay.  She also wondered if he had gotten her letter yet or if maybe he had thrown it out the moment he knew that it was from her.

She wouldn’t blame him if he had.

As she continued down the street she accidentally bumped into someone.  She stumbled for a moment and looked up as she said, “Sorry.”  When her eyes met his, she was shocked to find the prettiest blue she had ever seen.

He smiled at her, “It’s all right.  Have a good evening.”  Then he was sidestepping her and going about his business.  She watched him go, wondering why he seemed so familiar to her.

And those eyes.

Like the sky on a summer day.  Cloudless and beautiful.

[nose-bandaid]

layers

DK (Seokmin) x (gender neutral) Reader | college AU fluff | 4.2k words

synopsis: seokmin first captured your attention with his smile, and you were more than enthralled. then you captured HIS attention by utterly destroying his favourite scarf and then fleeing the scene (oops). but surely you can fix this before things get awkward, right?

a/n: it ended up more platonic than it did romantic but oh well,,, this is a very specific plot i apologize LOL

taglist: @elcie-chxn​ @woozisnoots​ (hi alex this is the seokmin fic you asked me to tag you in like MONTHS ago sksfhdjkjdsf) [send and ask or dm if you ever wanna be tagged in my works!]

=====

You've always called him the scarf boy. On alternating days, it was the sunshine(y) boy.

The first day you met him was actually about a week into the semester, when you glanced over to your left and saw him sitting on the other side of the lecture hall. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, you would’ve just looked away and carried on with your life. It’s not unusual for your eyes to wander around as you zoned in and out of the professor’s speech. That's what you get for always staying up late the night before.

But on that day, you found your eyes fixated on the boy for the next few minutes, and you watched as he whispered something to his friend. It must’ve been something funny because soon they were both giggling like fools and he smiled from ear to ear. 

And it was that smile that captivated you because you don't think you've ever seen such a bright smile before. 

His face was familiar. Surely you've seen him many, many times before today, you thought. And yet you couldn't place a name on the classmate.

You brought your attention back to the lecture for a brief second and then looked at your friend, Seungkwan, who sat to your left. You gently nudged him with your elbow and he spared a glance your way before going back to his notes. You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“Hm?” He still didn’t look up from his notebook, but you knew you had his attention now.

“Do you know who that guy is?” You gestured with your head in the smiley boy’s direction, and Seungkwan finally looked up to follow your gaze.

“Oh, you mean the literal ball of sunshine that doesn't know how to shut up?” He replied in one breath.

“Huh?”

"I said that as a good thing, by the way. Or, for the most part. His name is Lee Seokmin, everyone on campus calls him a happy virus 'cause he keeps on smiling." He paused to scribble something down. 

It was probably something important and you should've written it as well, but you could tell he had more to say. You patiently waited. 

"I've heard that he's in the theatre club, but I'm not too sure. He's Soonyoung's friend, but not really mine."

"So he's a theatre kid, huh." You echoed quietly and Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking? Also, I'm not lending my notes, it's your problem for not paying attention."

"I was just wondering." You answered a little too quickly but tried to divert the attention elsewhere by busying yourself with re-organizing your own notes. "And if you lend me notes, I'll bring snacks for you tomorrow." You added quietly when the professor glanced your way after shushing Seokmin and his friend.

"Deal." You heard him whisper back after a minute and his notebook slid into your vision.

=====

A few days later, you went to class early so that you could finish up a small assignment to prepare for the lesson. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary.

You sat in your usual spot — not too far in the back, but also not too close to the front. Just enough for you to see the board and sneakily hold conversations without really being noticed. 

There weren’t any assigned seats, but by now, it was a convention that everyone sat in the same spot every day. The spot beside yours was always saved for Seungkwan, and the spot beside his was saved for that one kid who only showed up once a month.

You were finishing up the last few pages when a loud “HELLO” echoed in the hall and you whipped your head towards the doorway.

It was that boy — Seokmin — dressed in a soft yellow hoodie, hair slightly ruffled as if he hadn’t bothered to fix it after waking up. Around his neck was the red knitted scarf he always wore the moment the weather grew cold. (Though you swore you've seen him wear it in the middle of the sweltering summer). He smiled widely, waving to the half-empty hall and then to the professor who simply chuckled at his entrance. That smile stayed on his face the entire time he made his way to his seat. 

From then on, you began to understand why people called him a happy virus.

The next day, you found yourself going to class early again, this time, because you honestly didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, arriving at a good time always made you comfortable. The moment the clock struck 8:46, the same boy appeared.

"HELLO!~"

This time, it was sung out in a (very beautiful) falsetto, and you wondered how it was even possible for him to be this exuberant so early in the morning. Waking up was always a struggle on your part.

Just as quickly as the show started, the boy shut himself up after receiving a few tired "hellos" from his classmates and took a seat.

The day went by accordingly.

Since you were little, you've always been told that something needs to be repeated at least three times for it to be considered a pattern. So you decided to go to class early just one more time. You told yourself it's so that you could see you were missing out on things. In case coming to class just in time was a bad habit. A lousy excuse, really.

You knew that you just wanted to see Seokmin again.

Sure enough — it was a Thursday that day — he came in, this time in a navy blue cardigan, but still with the same red scarf. The "hello" today was a little more subdued and based on the package he had in his hands, you guessed he had stayed up all night practicing his lines. When his greeting was met with unusual silence you looked around to see that everyone was far more focused on the upcoming test than the boy at the door. So you mustered up the courage to be the one greeting him that day and he immediately perked up, sending you an appreciative smile. His eyes remained brighter as he walked over to his seat.

You decided to come to class early every day after that.

=====

As the seasons changed, so did your classes, and you were more than happy to realize that you and Seokmin shared not just one, but two classes this semester.

Bouncing on your toes a little bit, you silently willed for the people in front of you to hurry the heck up. The narrow stairwell did no good for the congestion of students trying to get by. 

You glanced at your phone again to see that class was starting in just 3 minutes and grimaced at your predicament. You knew your professor loved starting lectures right on the clock, so you were already cutting it pretty close when you agreed to help someone with their spilled drinks before you got here. But now... did these students really have to carry their gigantic project up the stairs?

You had hoped that maybe they would step aside and let you scurry your way up to the second floor — that was literally all you needed for them. However, they seemed to be far too engrossed with the fact that one of the components was coming apart in the stuffy stairwell and you let out a sigh, backing out the door.

If they won't take the elevator then you supposed you will instead.

Thankfully, the usually crowded elevator was fairly empty, and you managed to score one all to yourself. That was a win for you if only everything else had gone as smoothly as that. Your day had only started and circumstances have suggested that it wasn't going to be the best ones out there.

Perhaps, it was also partly your fault for blasting music through your headphones in the morning. That caused you to get a little lost in your thoughts on the way here, it also caused you to bump into a few unsuspecting people. Or perhaps, it was because you decided that it was a good idea to check your phone after receiving a text to hurry to class when the elevator door was closing.

But you like to think that it was maybe also his fault for stuffing his face with a bagel at 8 am in the morning, rendering him unable to clearly shout out at you to keep the elevator door open.

You looked up at the strangled noise and saw Seokmin barrelling towards you, his one free hand wildly waving at you to do something about the situation. You, just as frantic as the boy was, rushed to smash the "open" button to no avail as the door continued to close with every step he took.

He made it, much to your relief, tumbling into the lift and almost spilling his coffee onto you (another drink disaster would've ruined your day completely). You didn't have much time to congratulate him for his feat, however, because you both watched in horror as his iconic knitted red scarf — caught in between the doors of the elevator — began to tear and unravel itself. 

Seokmin frantically lifted the scarf over his head and tried to pull it out of the elevator's grip while you reached down and grabbed it in an attempt to help. But all efforts were futile when the last stitch came apart, and he was left with only a fraction of what used to be his favourite red scarf. Your stomach twisted itself when you looked up and saw the distress in his eyes, his teeth biting down on his lip as if he was contemplating the best way to curse you out.

He was an actor though, and you could tell he was putting up a facade to hide how upset he actually was. His eyes wavered as he stared at the scarf, now reduced to a mess of yarn and his lips tugged into a weary smile.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to close the door on you it was an accident." You blurted out.

Seokmin didn't answer, but the elevator door dinged open as your phone buzzed with its second alarm of the day. Class was starting.

Your hand slipped into your pocket to turn off the alarm and you looked back at Seokmin, eyes begging for forgiveness. "Look, let's meet up again sometime later so I can make it up to you, okay? I promise that I'll fix this."

And with that, you sprinted away from the scene, leaving the poor boy alone with his destroyed scarf.

=====

"Let me get this straight — the elevator door closed too soon and Seokmin's scarf got caught and tore apart and now you're worried that he hates you 'cause you think the scarf is really important to him?"

You nodded.

Seungkwan sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to return to his notes. "This reads like a fanfic someone wrote at 5 am."

"It what." You blinked and he dismissed the question.

"Nothing, nothing. Did you get his number? Any way to contact him?"

You gave him a sheepish look. "I forgot to ask, I kinda ran away."

"You ran away?"

"It was an accident okay! I was nervous. But we have a lecture with him tomorrow morning, right? I could just talk to him then."

Seungkwan raised an eyebrow. "And you'll be able to muster up the courage by tomorrow? It took you 10 minutes to even tell me what happened, what do you plan to do?"

You bit your lip and stared at the forgotten work on your laptop. "Good question, I have no idea how to make up for it. Scrap talking to him tomorrow."

You both settled into silence as Seungkwan continued on with his notes and you leaned back in your chair. All sorts of ideas ran through your mind, but not of them seemed like the right one.

Then it hit you.

"That's it!" You gasp and sat straight up again, accidentally startling Seungkwan who whined about his smudged diagram. "I'll buy him another scarf, the exact same one."

"That's a good idea." He hummed. "But how will you know which one to buy?"

"I was hoping you'd have his socials? We could do some classic investigating." You suggested.

Seungkwan's eyes lit up at that and he reached over to grab his phone. "If Soonyoung's friends with him, then they're probably following each other so... Ah! There he is. A childish username, as expected."

He gave his phone to you and you scrolled through Seokmin's profile, many were pictures of food or his friends, but you stopped at one photo that caught your eye. It was of him at a park, trying to act casual for a photo (as anyone would), but wrapped around his neck was the famous red scarf.

"Perfect." You muttered to yourself. Now all you had to do was buy that scarf and hope that it comes quickly.

Or else things would become terribly awkward.

=====

Buying that scarf turned out to be much more difficult than you thought it would be.

No matter how deep you searched on the internet or how many times you looked at the photo of his precious scarf, there was no trace of the exact same copy.

"Don't tell me it was handmade." You groaned and got up from your seat to flop onto your bed instead. You stared at the ceiling for a while, long enough for your laptop to fall asleep. 

"Maybe it's a high-end brand?" You speculated quietly to yourself and rolled onto your side to stare at the wall instead.

"No... This guy eats ramen every other day in the caf, there's no way he can afford that."

You rolled onto your back once more and pouted at absolutely no one.

Why did you have to get into this situation with someone you hardly knew?

=====

The next day you went to class at the normal time to avoid having to see Seokmin when he inevitably greets the class. However, when you took your seat and discreetly glanced at his spot, it was empty. Minus Soonyoung's bag that sat there instead.

You chewed on your lip for a while, wondering if his unusual absence had anything to do with yesterday.

"Good morning!"

Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar voice and you almost let yourself send him a smile when you remembered that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You immediately stiffened and stared at your table. Seokmin didn't look your way for the entirety of the lecture, which you were almost grateful for, but it also left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

On the way out, he did end up glancing at you and you immediately turned to Seungkwan to strike up a meaningless conversation.

"Make it seem like we're busy with something, he's looking my way."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "I talked to Soonyoung yesterday and he brought up what happened 'cause apparently he thought it was really funny. He said Seokmin wasn't mad but didn't really know what he's supposed to be doing either."

You nodded, pretending like you were listening to him and he continued on.

"Seokmin's a kind soul, you know. I doubt he's ever been angry at anyone before."

"That just makes me feel even worse though," You whined and watched Seokmin leave the room with another classmate by his side. "And I told him that we'd meet up again but I'm not ready at all. What's he gonna think about that?"

"Then you could go up to him and say that you're still sticking to your promise, but you still need time to think about what to do. Maybe he'll tell you what he wants then." Your friend suggested, poking at your work to tell you to start cleaning up.

"I think I'm going to avoid him until I'm fully prepared. So I don't mess this up." You decided, completely ignoring Seungkwan's words and the boy sighed.

"What did I do to have such dense friends?"

=====

The week before exams was spent cramming some last-minute studying with your friends in the community library. 

It's been a while since you last spoke to Seokmin. 

Which translates to "you haven't spoken to Seokmin since the incident."

You ignored those worries and buried yourself in work instead. Using yet another excuse to get out of the very problem you should probably be prioritizing.

Besides, focusing on Minghao and Jun, who were bickering over who left the empty juice carton in the mini-fridge seemed far more interesting. You giggled when Minghao practically brought out photo evidence to defend his point and Jun spluttered out a shocked response after being called out. As their conversation grew louder and louder, you quickly scanned the library, searching for the librarian to make sure you weren't going to be chewed out for being noisy.

You stopped when you spotted Seokmin sitting next to Chan, who ran the dance club you've always admired. His nose was buried in a book. It was only for a brief moment — perhaps a second or two — but you stared at him from afar, taking in his sharp features and gentle smile.

When he felt your gaze on him and locked eyes with you, you immediately looked away, trying to not let him know that you saw him.

"I gotta go." You muttered and packed up your stuff, leaving behind a bewildered Minghao and even more bewildered Jun (who was still trying to recover from the previous attack).

All those days preparing yourself crumbled right in front of you. This wasn't supposed to be happening, this wasn't moving according to the plan you promised you'd stick to.

He wasn't supposed to beat you to it.

"Y/n!"

You carried on, pretending to have not heard him and prayed that he would just give up. He was Lee Seokmin though, so of course, he didn't stop.

"Y/N!" He shouted a little louder this time and you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, just like on that fateful day at the elevator. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the confrontation.

"Hey, Seokmin."

To your surprise, he gave you a big smile. "Hey! 'Was worried I wouldn't be able to catch you just now. You were walking so quickly, where are you headed?"

"Oh..." Away from you. You thought to yourself, but said something else, trying to play it cool. "Nowhere in particular, just on a walk. Needed some fresh air after spending so much time in the library. It’s always stuffy when everyone’s cramming for exams." You rambled on.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure." You lied with a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, with you leading the way, cheeks heating up with every second that passed.

"You've been avoiding me haven't you?" He finally spoke up.

The tips of your ears burned. "I wasn't trying to."

"If it's about what happened in the elevator, you don't have to worry about it." He prompted lightly and you stopped walking.

"Well, I am worrying about it." You admitted. "Because not only was that your first impression of me, but I know that scarf meant a lot to you and it was such a stupid way for it to get destroyed."

You took a deep breath and continued before he could think of an answer. "I'm trying to buy you another scarf, but I've been having some trouble finding it anywhere..." You admitted.

"Ah," Seokmin chuckled. "My grandmother made that scarf so I doubt you'd be able to find it online."

"It was from your grandmother?" You rubbed your face, thinking about all the hours spent examining the photo and struggling to find the perfect match. "I'm so sorry, that's even worse than it just being your favourite."

He shrugged. "Nah, it's fine, I got over it after that day."

You couldn't hide the look of surprise when he said that.

"To be honest, she's been trying to get me to ditch that scarf because I wore it too much. It's a good excuse to get a new one now!" He finished happily and you suddenly felt less tense.

"Your grandmother makes nice scarves, though. I never knew that there was a little design on it until, well, until it ripped. But it was beautiful! Please give her my compliments."

Seokmin let out a shy laugh. "Ah, you're talking about the little bunnies and sunflowers stitched onto it, right? I've always worn the scarf inside out because I don't know what people will think when they see it."

"What?!" You blurted out, incredulous. "They're really cute! If anyone were to hate on the cute bunnies then they're going to have a word with me." You joked, pretending to get into a fighting stance. "I would definitely wear that scarf proudly, but what makes you comfortable, of course."

"Interesting. Hearing that does make me a little for confident." He hummed. The conversation stilled for a brief second before he spoke up again. "What are your plans for the break?"

You blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Uhm, nothing much, probably just heading back to spend time with family."

"Cool! My plans are the same. How about you meet me..." He walked over to a nearby bench and planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Exactly here on the day, we get back. Does that sound okay?"

"Why?" You asked, but he was already backing away. You stepped forward, insisting on an answer but he refused to give you one and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"I'll see you then... I guess..." You called out weakly, speaking to practically no one because the boy was already on his way elsewhere.

And just like that, your conversation with Lee Seokmin ended.

====

 Winter break soon arrived and left as quickly as it came.

You arrived exactly 5 minutes before the meeting time and Seokmin arrived exactly 5 minutes after the meeting time.

"Y/n!"

You waved when you heard the familiar voice and the two of you shared a warm smile despite the cold weather.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," He continued. "How have you been!"

"I've been alright, how about you?"

He replied with his own "same old, same old" and you sent him a curious look when the small talk died down. "So why did you ask to meet up today?"

"Yes! About that." His hand drifted towards his neck and he didn't even have to speak for you to piece two and two together.

Wrapped around his neck was a new scarf, the same style as the old one, but this time, it was a soft shade of pink. Embroidered along the front was a small line of bunnies and flowers, perfect for the spring that was soon to come.

You brightened at the sight and let out a small gasp. "You got a new one! Nice!"

"Yep! And," Seokmin placed something warm in your hands and you realized he's been carrying it with him this entire time. "This is for you."

You stared at the scarf in your hands. It was a lovely shade of blue. "Wh— why do I get a scarf too?"

He laughed and fidgeted with his sleeves. "You spoke so fondly of my old one, I thought you'd appreciate having one for yourself so I asked my grandmother to make an extra one."

"That makes me feel even worse!" You cried out, guilty for not only ruining his old scarf but also inadvertently making him do more work to gift you something you didn't think you deserved.

"No, please don't feel bad!" He immediately replied, eyes wide to get his message across. "She was happy to make another and honestly, I just wanted to clear things up so that we don't start off on the wrong foot, you know?"

"Thank you." You pouted, still feeling a little bad, but you wrapped the scarf around your neck nevertheless. Seokmin smiled as he watched you and you grabbed the end of the scarf to admire the handiwork.

"They have the same pattern. We're matching with each other now." You quietly noted and suddenly the atmosphere between you two grew warmer.

"I guess we are! This makes us scarf buddies now, I guess." Seokmin smiled sheepishly. "We are bound by an unfortunate incident, but I hope to turn it into something positive. We can be friends, right?"

"I should be the one asking you that, idiot." You replied with a grin. The grip you had on the scarf got a little bit tighter. "Of course we can be friends, I would love to be your friend."

The smile on his face reminded you of when you first saw him.

Suddenly, your phone went off in your pocket, signalling that it was a good time to start heading to class. So much for an easy transition back into the school year.

"I should probably get going now," You started at the same time Seokmin spoke up.

"I promised I would meet up with—"

You both paused mid-sentence before bursting out in laughter at the coincidence.

"We have a lecture together tomorrow, right?" He asked excitedly and you nodded. "We can continue our conversation later then."

You laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, scarf buddy."

=====

The next day went by accordingly, starting with a familiar “HELLO!~” from the boy who loved to eat bagels at 8 in the morning and wear scarves in any kind of weather.

The only difference is that this time, he took the seat to your right instead of one at the opposite end of the hall. He greeted you with a smile and you happily started up a lively conversation before class started. Decorating both your outfits were your matching scarves, flowers and rabbits on the outside for the world to see.

This way, everyone could know that you guys were scarf buddies.

[0risha]

THE FIRST MONTH

» CHAPTER SUMMARY : As an aspiring author in New York, life hasn’t been the easiest. To your surprise, things start to look brighter when you're met with an unexpected offer.

» TAGS : a few curse words, mentions of insecurity

⤻ series m.list  | series playlist | ⤻ the next month

“Take as much time as you need,” Draena drawls. Your brows furrow as you note that she was, indeed, being sarcastic. 

“A-are you gaslighting me,” you scoff over the line. You wait to hear a bubble of laughter from your editor/best friend but it never comes.

“Shut it.” You gulp as her tone turns hard. “What you turned in last night.” You shut your eyes in hopes of drowning out her next line. 

“Was complete shit.” 

“Gosh, you’re so rude.” You turn in your seat, propping up your glasses as your attention moves from your computer screen to your slumbering cat. “What happened to my happy, enthusiastic Rae rae?” you boast, clutching the phone closer to your ear. 

“Well, this so-called final draft made my mood go sour.” 

“Fuck, Rae- I’m trying here.” You coax, internally wincing when you catch the crawling desperation in your voice. Draena must’ve heard it too.

“I know you are babe but when you send me videos of you dancing with Yuka while Erykah Badu’s singing her heart out in the background—” her voice cuts off when you let out a snicker. 

“It’s not funny Y/N!” Draena proclaims but you hear the low laugh she lets out. “Okay, but when you send me videos of that it makes me think otherwise.” 

You hum in feigned contemplation. “But you know…. those are like my interim periods.”

“I’m hanging up on you.”

“Wait, no! Rae rae please- I was kidding,” you plead, frantically.

“Give me a better draft by the 12th an—"

“Rae rae!” Your cat turns to you, telepathically telling you to shut up with her green, narrowed eyes.

“And have a goodnight Y/N, I love you.” 

Beep.

You heave out a sigh. “She definitely doesn’t love me,” you confess to the air. “Yuka baby,” you sing, patting your lap; a signal for her to jump on.

“But you do…. I just know you do.” You coo, rubbing the scruff of Yuka’s white-haired neck as she curls into you.

“Yuka…. why does the world hate me so much?” You take your pair of glasses from your face and throw them on your desk. 

“And my head hurts…..” you whine. “And m’ so hungry.” 

You hear Yuka purr in agreement.

“Ugh, Yuka, back home they had such good ramen.” You sigh wistfully, turning to glare at the microwaveable ramen cup that sat in your trash.

“I miss it.” You divert your gaze from the trash to your office window to watch a trail of rain pellets zig-zag across the glass. Dark, heavy clouds farther up in the background. 

New York’s current weather didn’t help with your somber mood. 

“M’ gonna take you there one day, I promise.” You sniffle, unwanted emotions welling up in your chest. 

“You know who I want you to meet!” You raise an index finger idly in the air. “Want you to meet my brother, he loves cats. Have I told you that, Yuka?” Your mood instantly flips as you remember your older sibling. Though, it drops just the same when you get no response. It wasn’t like you were gonna get one anyway. 

With the piercing silence in your apartment, your mind starts to wander to forbidden thoughts. To straggly blonde hair, dark amber e—

“No!” Yuka jerks up when you do. “I’m not doing this tonight.” You push up from your chair, Yuka mewling in rejection. “Sorry, baby, come cuddle with me in bed.” You take one last guilty glance at your computer before walking to your bedroom. Groaning when your body hits your not so soft mattress. You pat the sheets for signs of Yuka’s body but to no avail. With a roll to the side of your bed, you see her glued to the floor. “You’re so spoiled,” you grunt, taking her in your arms and plopping her next to you. 

“Goodnight Yuka.” You get a nuzzle in response. 

When your eyes close and the rest of the world fades, you end up dreaming of him.

Well, it’s not just him. It’s more of an uncatchable blur of moments together. 

Your entry at the local girl’s volleyball workshop that you had eventually begged your mother to quit because you were terrible at it. 

The teasing words he would throw at you because of your non-ability to even set a ball. How his brother would force him to apologize after seeing the tears that stained your brown, pudgy cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, Aran was too caught up in his little world to even care but they were glee-full memories, nonetheless. 

Although, as if your subconscious was in tune with your wants, your dreams didn’t stray too far, cutting right off before that summer. 

The next morning, you’re pulled out of your sleep by Yuka’s insistent scratching against your chest.

“Damn it, Yuka, don’t scratch my nipple off,” you grunt. When you open your eyes, you’re forced to squint due to the harshness of the sun that filters through your bedroom blinds. 

With a sigh, you roll over to grab your phone, groaning when the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You didn’t have any texts from Draena, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Usually, if Draena sent texts, they were pleas for a new draft or implied words of motivation that were sometimes laced with venom; the absence of emoticons always a telltale sign. 

However, Draena was the only person that bothered to text you, so it did brighten your day a teensy bit when she did. Aran didn’t text, at all, and if you didn’t know better you would think that he physically couldn’t, but he just took joy in speaking on the phone.

“She’s really mad at me huh, Yuka.” You throw your phone on the pile of sheets when you rise from your bed. Body craning to relieve itself when you elongate it to an upwards stretch. Yuka does the same, her white tail thumping on the wood-like tile floor. 

“Don’t have anything to do today,” you whisper, rubbing your eyes as you drag your body to your cramped bathroom. 

When you reach for your toothbrush, you glance at your reflection in the mirror. A simple glance turns into a long, attentive stare as you try to mentally pick and prod at your appearance. You blink, silently shocked that you weren’t falling into an ether of insecurities. 

While furiously brushing your teeth, careful to avoid harsh circles on your sensitive gums, you stare vacantly at your mirrored face. As if observing for long enough would finally uprise the emotions you had grown accustomed to. 

Droopy eyes, too full lips, not the prettiest nose. 

But they never came.

And as uncanny as it sounded, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the unfamiliarity of losing such a dear friend. One, that you had carried by your side for years on end.

After placing your toothbrush back in its rightful place, you swished a small amount of evergreen mouthwash in your mouth, letting out a wince after following it down with a swish of cold water. 

You turn to leave, but not before glancing once more at your mirror.

It’d be back soon, it had to.

After feeding Yuka a reasonable amount of catnip and changing her litter box, you plop down on your couch (which was to your dismay, missing a few springs), grab your remote, and flip to a random channel. 

After a couple of minutes into a series about fire emergencies, you found it hard to concentrate, the colors that were supposed to solidify into suitable entertainment only blurred by. You squint, but the effect only works for a second. 

Things were so bad that you couldn’t even watch television?

Though, you weren’t sure what exactly these things were. Yeah, living in this place wasn’t exactly ideal but you were gonna make it big in due time. The heavy-paged outline you’d sent in last month had been placed on the top of the Greatest Upcoming list by your publishing company. 

Perhaps, that was the case; the heavy expectations that had been placed on your already frail shoulders, albeit, you knew exactly what you were signing up for when you’d hit the submit button. You couldn’t help but think that your conflicted emotions were for an entirely different reason. 

It was frustrating not knowing what was going on with yourself. The little things that were supposed to make you happy; eating snacks, listening to your mother’s voicemails, playing with Yuka, all felt like a toll. 

However, this train of thought introduced a new one. 

A rush of impelling air flits through your apartment, before it could find the means to disappear you clamber up to your office. Well, it was more a corner of your apartment that could fit a desk than an office, but it was enough. 

Grabbing your glasses from the desk drawer and placing them right on the bridge of your nose, your fingers fly. They’re set in rhythm, thoughts that fly to your fingertips and transfer. It goes on like this for nearly two hours, your eyes burn and your joints ache but something tells you that if you were to stop now, a feeling like this wouldn’t be so easy to attain again. Rare moments like these felt like euphoria. But it always came with a price; a hook of fear that settled in your skin. The fear of writing something that wasn’t up to par. 

To your utmost dismay, your writing is interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and just like that your impel disappears. With an annoyance-filled groan, you grab the source of the noise. 

Draena.

“What! Rae rae... I can’t believe you, I had the best feeling of motivation, and my fucking fingers wer—”

“Come. Now.” Your eyebrows shoot up as Draena cuts off your impending rant, her voice low and demanding.

“Huh- to NPC, why?” Going to your publishing company was a rare occurrence, you basically worked from home. 

“Urgent news.” Draena clips.

“Why the short answers? Just tell me…” your voice trails off. As much as you hated to admit, you were terrified. What if they booted up your deadline? Or worse… 

“No, they’re not kicking you off the list because of your terrible drafts.” You release a long breath in relief. 

“So what is it?” You gnawed the bottom of your lip in trepidation. 

“You’ll see.” The line cuts.

You roll your eyes. Draena hanging up on you was starting to become an annoying habit.

With a glance at your computer screen, your eyes widen in shock. 

68,000 words.

A new record.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone knew about New York, the melting pot of all types of people, food, festivities, and yadda yadda. 

But no one seemed to know how dampening it was. To you at least. 

The difference between being in one of the most active places in the states and having nothing going for you was very...depressing. Though the thoughts of impending success snuck into your gloomy thoughts, it was driven away by impatience. 

When? When were you going to finally catch a break? When were you going to be shrouded by contentment and feel as though moving to the states was the right choice? 

These thoughts compiled onto your mind as you stared at the back of a stranger’s brown and very ugly loafers.

The metro was loud and bustling with life. Though, it didn’t hold much surprise. 

You made sure to keep your head downcast and avoid eye contact with anybody. You were lucky enough to get a seat on the train, but the regret finally started to set in when you felt another person pushing against the left of you. 

With an inaudible sigh, you close your eyes in hopes of getting a few moments of peace before you had to go to your publishing company. Draena did tell you that it wasn’t a serious matter but a gut feeling told you that it was. 

When your stop comes, you squeeze through a plethora of bodies to get out of the doors. 

The walk to your publishing company is short, your gray sweatpants and sweatshirt made it an easier trek. With your heart in your throat, you elongate your neck to stare at the company. It was nothing special, a five-storied building that looked slightly crappy on the inside. However, it was seemingly special to you. It’d housed dozens of authors esteemed with the title of best-seller and you’d be damned if you weren’t one. 

After giving yourself a speech of confidence, you enter the building. The first thing that hits you is the overbearing stench of coffee. The sweet smell of donuts, next. Which leaves you to salivate due to the absence of breakfast. 

“You can have mine if you want to.” A figure towers over yours. Michael. Your eyes flit to his face, then to the donut, he offers on a folded napkin. Your nose scrunches up in distaste. A cruller.

When you see the way his face slightly falls, you smile at him. “Thank you, Michael. I’ll make sure to eat this since I didn’t have any breakfast this morning.” As you grab the donut from his hand and your fingers brush ever so slightly, you catch the way his cheeks flush red. 

Now, you weren’t an egotistical fool but there was no way that Michael didn’t have a thing for you. But there was no way you were going to entertain him. Yeah, he was cute; short-cropped black hair, sharp cheekbones, and nice jade eyes to go with it, he wasn’t your type. It didn’t help that he was only eighteen, four years your junior. The gap wasn’t huge but it just… wasn’t your thing. 

“H-have a nice day.” He chokes out, a nervous smile adorning his pasty cheeks. 

“I will, thanks again.” With a small smile, you turn away to trudge up the stairwell. 

The stairs are rickety and downright scary. Every step you take causes a flash of childish vision in which you end up falling through. The quality of the rails didn’t help either. Renovations, maybe?

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you finally make your way through to the fifth floor. Surprisingly, this floor was tidier than the rest. More expensive printers, offices, and equipment in general. 

“Finally.” Draena cruises towards you, her expression is neutral, conveying no signs of what’s about to come. 

“Hi Rae rae,” you smile, handing her your cruller. “You look nice.” You observe her pencil skirt that fits just right on her curves, and her white button-up that makes her chest look really, really nice.

“Stop ogling my tits, you perv.” You roll your eyes at her crude language as she stuffs her face with the donut. “You look….” She ducks her head to study your attire. “Comfortable.” 

“Putting your rudeness aside.” You wave your arms. “Uh… what am I here for?” You scratch the back of your neck as a source of relief. 

Sensing your nervousness, Draena places her hands on your shoulders. “Everything’s fine, I promise. Just follow me.” She turns.

You blink out of your stupor to follow behind. Your eyes stay downcast. “Stop looking at my ass—”

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone turns to give you a perturbed stare. “W-what! Draena— I was not.” You scramble up to stand side by side with your friend, sending her an icy glare.

She gives you a low chuckle in response. “I know, I know. Just tryna get you to lighten up.” She pats your mass of curls. “Well, I hope ya did, cause we’re here.” She stops in front of the main conference room. 

She pulls your sweaty hands into her own. “You got this! Just don’t say too much because you don’t nee—”

“Huh- you’re not coming with me!” you whisper-yell, eyes moving sporadically in disbelief.

“Nope!” She springs, letting go of your hand and turning you towards the door. “Good luck, babes, call me when you’re done, I can’t wait to see your reaction.” And with that, Draena pushes a very terrified you into the conference room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uh, Miya!” Atsumu turns to the loud reporter. “Any ladies in your life?” 

“Nah and yer crazy if you think there’s gonna be.” He gives an upturning grin as the conference room bursts into a muttering mess.

Next to him, Sakusa grunts, “you’re so damn arrogant.” Atsumu gives him a shrug in return.

“So, any past ladies you’re still willing to pine over?” Atsumu blinks once, twice. The room falls into an eerie silence as his teammates turn to peer at him. 

“Nah,” he clips. “Let’s talk about the game now.” Atsumu coughs. “We should be talking about Mr. Shoyo here, no?” The orange-haired boy flushes in embarrassment as the attention of the room shifts to him. 

When the team heads back to the locker room, the air is filled with exhaustion. The adrenaline finally slithering away as they grab their belongings. 

Meian, their team captain clambers up to Atsumu’s figure and clasps him on the shoulder. “What was that about, Miya?” 

Slowly, Atsumu turns to give him a confused look. “What was what about?” He lies, slinging his bag on his other shoulder. His eyes flicker across the locker room as everyone tries, but fails miserably, to hide their interest in the conversation. 

“Whatever, I know you’re not gonna tell me,” Meian sighs, already used to the boy's nonchalant façade.

With a huff and a series of goodbyes, Atsumu slides out of the locker room and pulls the hood of his jacket on his head. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, thumbs ready to send a pleading text to his Osamu. 

When he does, he sighs wistfully. Silently hoping that his brother would give him at least a dozen of onigiris of his choice, for free. When his phone ringer goes off, he immediately slides accept. A wide smile on his face as he speaks to what he thinks is his brother.

“Sumu! If you’re calling to ask, I’d really like some with grilled salm-”

“Nah, It’s not Osamu.” Atsumu comes to a stop in the MSBY parking lot. 

“A-aran?” His dark amber eyes go wide. It’d been so long, but there was no he’d forget his best friend’s voice. 

“Yeah.” Though his voice is much deeper and gruff, a sense of nostalgia washes over Atsumu.

“What’d you call for? We haven’t talk-”

As Aran’s next words filter through Atsumu's right ear, the setter’s spine grows rigid. A plethora of thoughts enter his mind to merge into a red, blaring question mark. 

“Y/N’s coming back to Japan.”

a/n: yayy, i know this is kinda short and should probably be a prologue instead of chapter one but.... idk. also, i’m really excited to dive more into atsumu’s character. okay, okay other than that. I hope you enjoyed this! I feel as though the header is downright ugly but whatevs ┐( ˘_˘)┌

[corinnesamuels]

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 9: Discretion is Such a Valuable Tool

Shoutout to the AMAZING @the-dream-team for creating this for me! Gives the fic a lil razzle dazzle, don’t you think?

A good old patronus soul mate trope to get the blood flowing, Remus has a hard time, and Lily and Sirius confront old friends.

In the weeks following James and Miranda’s breakup, there had been speculation amongst the gang about what that meant for Lily and James. For the two people in question, however, there was no indication that anything would be changing. They laughed at the same jokes, and the time they spent in person still had the same cadence. They were  friends , and the two of them reinforced that dynamic whenever asked. Secretly— irritatingly —Lily reinforced it with herself every time she saw that lopsided grin, which seemed to be making more and more of an appearance lately. 

It was as if the breakup had broken a dam inside of him, and now he joked more and laughed with less reservation. The glint in his eye that appeared when he was contemplating mischief had reappeared. Every day he became more and more like the version of him she’d once known. Sirius had made similar observations, saying how great it was to have his friend back at full force. 

Lily had loved getting reacquainted with James when she returned to England, but to see those parts of his personality return warmed her from the inside. He seemed happier, more free. Lily loved the way it looked on him. Except for when she didn’t. This more robust version of an adult James was a lot for Lily to take in. His personality was simply overwhelming some days, not because he was being obnoxious, but because it was almost impossible not to be drawn to him. It threatened to disrupt the precarious balance that her emotions currently maintained. Lily couldn’t risk disrupting that balance, so she made it a point to carry on the same life she had been living, and her occasional recreational dalliances helped a great deal.

Except for when they didn’t. Like today, when Lily realized that she’s going to have to let go of Terry.

It’s a shame, really. He’s a nice bloke and gets the job done well enough. But Lily has noticed that he seems to be straying from their original arrangement. He usually either left first thing in the morning after their liaisons or stayed just long enough to make and wolf down a quick breakfast. Lily had appreciated it because, as her friends love to point out, she’s terrible at cooking.

But lately, he’s attempted, thrice now, to stay into the afternoon. While Lily doesn’t want to be rude or harsh, this just isn’t what they signed up for. Especially not on a day when she is already running a little late to an Order meeting. He jokingly asks why she seems like she’s in a rush and hints at not believing that she really had somewhere to be. 

It takes everything she has to remain calm.

“Nothing about our arrangement requires me to share my daily schedule.” She’d said at close to noon that day as she hastily put on her shoes. She waved her wand toward his belongings, and they began hurtling at him faster than she’d intended due to her irritation, but he’d gotten the hint after that. 

When she arrives at the meeting a few minutes late, she waves off Marlene and Dorcas’ concerns with a “don’t ask” and a resigned rise and fall of her hand before jumping into the agenda.

The Order of the Phoenix functions well. Dumbledore has instituted a complex but subtle system for meeting locations, dates, and times and spends early meetings going over spells and skills that might be useful for the days ahead. Dumbledore picked most of them because they had excelled during their time at Hogwarts, but certain forms of magic were usually beyond what even the brightest seventh years managed before their time at school ended.

And so, they found themselves assessing the talents of the group and ways to maximize them. It was a well-known fact that The Marauders were good at stealth due to their ability to cause mischief as students. So Dumbledore tasked them and the Aurors of the group with assisting the rest in learning advanced magic related to stealth and concealment. “You lot must not have been too good at being stealthy if you got caught so often.” Dorcas quips during one meeting. The four men looked at each other and grinned. 

“Meadowes,” Sirius tuts. “We very rarely got caught on accident, love.”

“You can’t be legendary if no one knows your story.” James chimes in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Sometimes you have to let yourself get caught for the greater good.”

“The most legendary thing about the two of you is your detention records.” Marlene smirks, looking over to Lily before rolling her eyes. 

“Was that supposed to contradict what I said?” James asks with a laugh. Remus does his best to cover up a laugh of his own.

Lily, Marlene, Caradoc Dearborn, and Elphias Doge led the group in potions making. In addition to maximizing stores for members to have available to them, Dumbledore also had them work on potions whose brewing processes made Lily feel as if she’d run a marathon once completed.

Little by little, Lily began learning the strengths of various members of the Order of the Phoenix. Most everyone in the group was an accomplished dueler, particularly the Prewett twins and Edgar Bones. People like Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore, and Emmeline Vance were able to navigate Ministry circles to subtly gather information that employees were too afraid to say around Mad-Eye Moody, Frank, and Alice. But nothing surprised Lily more than discovering that the slovenly thief Mundungus Fletcher was a member of the group  because  of the fact that he was a thief.

“Dung was dead helpful while we were in school.” Peter says in Mundungus’ defense after one meeting. Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas let their eyes travel from Peter to his friends with raised eyebrows, waiting for confirmation.

“Let’s not go into the details, Peter. They aren’t necessary at this juncture.” Sirius cuts in. When Lily’s face still holds traces of mild judgment, Sirius rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t look like that, Red, you were a spy. Surely you saw worse than a thief.”

Lily had, of course, seen much worse. “Yes. Usually, the kind that were sober while on the job.” 

“It’s helpful to have someone in a group who can acquire…things of questionable origin.” Remus says diplomatically. “Especially information.”

“Yeah, it makes sense for Sturgis, Hestia, and Emmeline to do reconnaissance at the Ministry.” James replies. “But they can’t very well walk through Knockturn Alley and ask pointed questions without looking suspicious, can they?”

“How do we know that he’ll even remember what he learns from poking around in Knockturn?” Lily asks skeptically as she watches Mundungus falling asleep in his chair. “Surely you don’t think he’s going to go sober?” 

The gang takes a moment to observe Mundungus with her. It is a valid question they hadn’t considered.

“Pensieve, probably.” Sirius says finally. 

“Ah.” The others hum and nod in agreement before going back to their tasks.

In one particular meeting, Dumbledore decides to cover communication methods between members.

“I am sure you will find that we need ways to communicate with each other that owls and the Floo won’t be able to accommodate.” He says. “You may need to send a message quickly, and with the way Lord Voldemort’s ranks are growing, we may soon find the Floo Network being monitored surreptitiously. Muggles have a delightful invention called the ‘telephone.’ You pick up a receiver and can be in conversation with an old friend in mere seconds.”

Lily and Dorcas exchange grins, thinking of the summers they spent in the muggle world, on the phone with Mary, giggling like the schoolgirls they once were.

“It inspired me to create something similar,” Dumbledore continues, “and after perfecting it, I am ready to teach it to each of you. How many of you are familiar with the Patronus Charm?”

Various sounds of mild shock reverberate across the room as members of the Order exchange confused looks with each other. “Sir, I’m sure most of us have heard of it, but from my understanding, Patronuses don’t talk, do they?” Lily asks, voicing the confusion of the group.

“Not until recently.” Dumbledore replies. “As I said, I’ve perfected the method.”

A shocked James lets out a huff of air before catching Lily’s eye. She knows that his thoughts echo her own.  How in the fuck was Dumbledore so good at magic? Who would even think to take that charm and make it twice as useful and three times as difficult?  Lily shakes her head and lets out an exhale of her own, and he grins at her. 

It takes more effort than it should have for her to pull her eyes away from that grin.

“There are fully-trained Aurors who can’t even pull off a corporeal Patronus.” Frank says from the back of the room. “And you’re saying that you’ve amended it in some way?”

“I am.” Dumbledore says patiently, as if the people in front of him aren’t intimidated and shocked by the idea of performing this level of magic.

“Stop gawking and get a move on.” Moody growls from his section of the room. “Being afraid of a charm isn’t going to help you learn it.” He mumbles about the lack of gumption witches and wizards show nowadays.

At this, and with looks of slight trepidation over their shoulders toward Moody, the members of the Order of the Phoenix began working on casting the Patronus charm. Lily, who had always been adept at Charms, was able to produce a slight mist by the end of the session. Frank, Alice, and Moody could already produce non-corporeal Patronuses and worked on getting them to take shape before they left to return to the Ministry.

“Duty calls.” Alice says with a wave as they leave. 

Lily is still working on producing more mist when she sees James frustratedly struggling to produce even that. She smirks at him as she lets her mist float into his line of sight. “And to think you used to say you were better at Charms than I was.”

James cuts his eyes at her, irritated at not being able to gloat at the moment. “I used to say I was  just as good  as you at Charms, Evans. And I am.”

“We’ll see.” She says with a shrug before turning back to her Patronus. 

James rolls his eyes. “Professor Dumbledore, what transfiguration-related spells do you have for us?” 

“Grow up.” Lily retorts.

“Get a room.” Sirius grumbles with an eye roll of his own. Marlene laughs from her place next to him. 

“If they start acting like they did in sixth and seventh year, I’m going to bring up the idea of shoving them in a broom closet again.” Marlene says.

“And this time, we’ll actually do it.” Sirius replies dryly.

Lily’s words lit a fire in James that he hadn’t felt since playing Quidditch before his mother died. He always had thrived on competition. So after the Order meeting, he goes to three different bookstores and buys all the books he can find on the theory behind casting Patronuses. Sirius scoffs at this initially, but he, Remus, and Peter soon end up joining James in the sitting room of the manor, pouring through books and pages. They hadn’t made this much of an attempt to learn something from a textbook since James, Sirius, and Peter became animagi. And while the others may just want to learn because Dumbledore requested it, James is not only determined to produce a corporeal Patronus, but to produce one before Lily does.

To his frustration, Lily just barely beats him. 

They had been reviewing the spell at the beginning of an Order meeting, and they’d both been producing dense mists, just starting to take shape before dissipating. James closes his eyes, calms his nerves, and takes a deep breath to regroup before attempting the spell again, but before he can focus on his happy thought, he hears her excitement across the room. Knowing that it could only signal one thing, he curses under his breath before turning to see the inevitable.

He curses again, audibly and disbelievingly this time, when he sees the Patronus ambling across the room. Four legs, hooves, ears upright. In his shock, he doesn’t realize the strange looks he’d gotten from the people standing closest to him.

“Are you alright, James?” Peter asks.

But James is back in time, recalling a passage he’d read in one of his books while feverishly trying to pin down the charm—the one he and Sirius had joked about before ultimately ignoring it and going back to working out the incantation. 

  There is a belief amongst wizards that similar Patronuses are shaped by deep feelings one may have for another. Indeed, many agree that witches and wizards with the same or similar Patronuses may even be soulmates.

  James doesn’t answer Peter as he watches Lily’s doe move about the room and returns to her. She looks at it fondly and drifts her fingers along its silvery glow before it bows and disappears. He notices that Lily still has that look about her that she’d had when she was introduced to new magic in school—reverence mixed with the pride of accomplishing something new. He can’t help but grin at her across the room, nodding his head in salute as she smiles back and shrugs one shoulder before hugging Dorcas happily. It reminds James of all those days he used to watch her in classes…when they’d joke during their rounds…how she’d hugged him and smiled in a way that lit up the room after Gryffindor had won the quidditch cup during their last year…

He’d known it would work this time before he even recited the incantation. “Expecto Patronum!"

Read the rest at ao3!

Start from the beginning

[thiswasinevitableid]

Winter prompt fill 67 for sternclay? Doesn’t have to be a wedding I just love the 2nd half of this prompt. nsfw would be great

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW

67. you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you h e a r d

“She’s not coming.” Joseph whispers over his shoulder. 

“Joe, for all we know she got hung up in a dress emergency or something?” Lily, the best woman and Joseph’s sister, squeezes his shoulder.

When the groom turns his blue eyes on Barclay, the groomsman does his best impression of someone who thinks things will be fine.

“It’s only been five minutes.”

“Her entire wedding party is here without her. And they look as confused as we do.”

Barclay spots a member of the event staff slip in a side door and hand a piece of paper to Indrid, their friend who’s acting as an usher. 

“I, ah, have some bad news.” The pale-haired man joins them at the front of the church, “it seems the bride has had a serious change of mind and will not be joining us.”

Joseph grabs the paper, reading it over as the bridal party crowds around him. The upshot of all the commotion, and the arguing that follows the commotion, is that the bride has indeed called off the wedding and is en route to an airport. 

As the family confirms she’s alright, Joseph picks up the microphone.

“Obviously this is a, um, unexpected turn of events. It’s safe to say no one is getting married today, but everything is still in order for the reception and we’re all dressed up so, um, if people want to stay and take advantage of that, you’re welcome to. You’re also welcome to leave if you want.”

Several groups break off towards the reception hall, and Barclay pulls Joseph aside. 

“Joe,  are you sure? I mean, yeah, we’re all here, but I don’t think anyone is gonna hold it against you if you want to send everyone home.”

“It’s important to be flexible.” Joseph replies blithely. Barclay knows his best friend hates when plans change and is unlikely to suddenly lose that piece of his personality at the same moment he lost his fiancee. 

“Besides, I’d hate for that menu you helped us pick out to go to waste.” There it is, the Joseph Stern Professional smile ™, a sign that Barclay’s hunch is right.

“Screw the menu, man, I’m worried about you.” Barclay sets a hand on either of his shoulders. Joseph’s gaze snaps all the way onto him, and he knows he is losing this argument. 

“It’s still my wedding, Barclay. That means I get to run it in whatever way I think best.”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” He steps back, brushes lint from his arm, “you go on ahead. I join you in a sec.”

Joseph nods, turning to stride though the room in his dark suit, while Barclay watches the love of his life walk away.

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

“Uh, hi, I’m Barclay. You must be Joseph?” Barclay stands in the door of the dorm room, his backpack in his arms. 

“Yes. Um, nice to meet you.” The other guy stands, black hair and well-fitting X-Files shirt making him look like Agent Mulder on his day off.

“I didn’t choose a side yet, it seemed fair to wait until we were both here. I’m partial to the left but that’s more habit than anything else.”

“I’m cool with that. I, uh, I don’t have a ton of stuff to unpack so, uh if you need help let me know.”

“Thank you.” Joseph smiles, taking his face from cute to heart-stoppingly handsome, and Barclay decides he hit the roommate jackpot.

Barclay didn’t fall for Joe so much as cliffdive, throwing himself after the feeling he got whenever Joe laughed at a joke or told him a secret or talked for fifteen minutes about the methodology flaws in Ghost Hunters. Yes, Joe was hotter than convection oven and Barclay wanted to fuck him on the floor of every space they ever lived in, but more than that Barclay was so happy with him, and his friend felt the same way. 

The problem was, Barclay had a shy streak and was far from the only person to see Joe as a catch. And so they dated other people, sometimes happily and sometimes not, but never each other. By the time Joe met Iris, Barclay’s unrequited love had been thrumming in him so long it was no more than background noise. So when Joe ran proposal ideas by him, announced the weddings, asked Barclay to stand up with him, Barclay felt genuine happiness for him and the woman he loved. There’s no rule that says one cannot feel joy and knife-in-the-gut sorrow at the same time.

He’s only gotten better with age he thinks as Joe works the room, fielding condolences with ease. Barclay helped him choose the suit, black with blue lines in the stitching, because it flattered  but did not flaunt the well-maintained figure beneath. The last time Barclay saw him in just his underwear was when they lived together after college, and he fumbled his phone when he saw him at the beach last summer. He can picture it so clearly, what that body looks like under those clothes, and it makes him want to scream

“This whole day has been full of surprises.” Indrid sits down next to him, glass of soda in hand. 

“Kinda figured you and Duck would head home.”

“Most of  our friends are here, and the food looks good. Not to mention we’re both worried about-” Indrid nods towards Joseph.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I admire his holding it together but, like, what if Duck had left you at the altar?”

“I’d have turned into a hideous red-eyed monster and flapped screeching into the night.”

“......”

“That was a joke.” Indrid grins. 

“Right. Man, hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“While this is an upsetting situation, there is a bright side; maybe now you will finally tell Joseph how you feel.”

A crash makes them both turn in their seats; Joseph is wiping his dropped (plastic) cup up with a nearby napkin, well within earshot. 

“Indrid I swear if he heard-”

“Oh, I am certain he did.”

“Dude” Barclay hisses as Joseph steals an unreadable glance at him. 

“For goodness sake, you two are a good pair. A pair you’ve been dreaming about for years. Tell him.” With that the other man stands, leaving Barclay alone with his thoughts. His thoughts are no help, so he joins Indrid, Duck, Aubrey, and Dani for some cake.

As the venue finally empties, he realizes he hasn’t seen Joe in an hour and panics until he finds him standing (swaying, really) in the staging room. 

“You, hic, know, hic, this explains, hic, why she didn’t want to move until hic, after the wedding.”

“Seems like it’s for the best, going home to a place where all her stuff is would fucking suck.” Barclay puts an arm around him only for the shorter man to slump most of his weight into his chest.

“The hotel’s paid for, and I have a week hic of vacation and a packed car.”

“You’re not driving anywhere. I can and will lock you in a closet if you try.”

“Or you could, hic, come with me.”

“On your honeymoon?” Thank god Joe is too drunk to notice his voice creeping up.

“On my it’s this or be miserable t home trip. Please, Barclay? We can hic, swing by your place to get your stuff.”

Barclay says yes. Purely to help a friend in need and not because of how said friend feels pressed up against him.

They’re an hour out of the city when Joseph fumbles with his phone, “Change of plans, were going here instead of the hotel?”

“I thought the whole point was the hotel was paid for?”

“It is, by her family, so fuck it. I’ve always wanted to go here and it’s the kind of place she’d never let us stay.”

They take the next exit and find the highway North rather than East. By the time they reach the massive pink building with an airplane in the field out front, snow is falling and Joe is half-asleep, mumbling “okay” when Barclay says he’ll go get them a room. The clerk welcomes him, shows him a list of available rooms, and he notices a high number of them have heart-shaped bed, “tubs for two,” and the word “fantasy” in the name. 

Just as he’s wondering what the fuck Joe’s gotten them into, he spots the perfect room at the bottom of the list. 

“Got a surprise for you.” He helps Joe from the car and unlocks the door. His friend takes in the silver and green decor, the posters, and the UFO-shaped bed. 

“This is the exact one I was hoping for.”

“I know, you giant nerd.”

“Be nice, big guy, or you’re sleeping on the couch.” Joe stumbles to the bed and starts stripping, at which point Barclay zips back outside to get their bags. By the time he’s back, Joe is under the covers and out cold. The king bed does look comfy…

Barclay sleeps on the couch. 

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

Joe remains dead to the world until almost noon the next day, so Barclay works on his cookbook edits and sends yet another thank-you email to Mama for letting him take his vacation with such little notice. He grabs breakfast, including a sandwich for when Joe wakes up and some aspirin to go with his coffee. 

“I hate myself.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Joe rolls over, dragging the pillow atop his head, “I didn’t mean to get so drunk, it’s just the only way I could get through all those conversations yesterday was to take a drink every time I felt like crumbling.”

Barclay sits on the bed, petting his head, “It’s okay, man, getting me to drive you to a weird sex hotel is not the worst thing you’ve done drunk.”

“I threw up in a mixer one time.”

“And I’ll never forgive you for it.” He laughs when Joe whacks him with a pillow. In the silence that follows, he remembers Indrid’s comment, and wonders if Joe does too. 

“...Is this really a sex hotel? I just thought it was kitsch aimed at couples”

“Go look at the tub.”

Joe groans, stepping out of bed in just his--god help him--silk boxer briefs. They must have been under the suit. 

“Are these...they are, there are handcuffs hanging by the tub. Well, weird as that is, I’m taking a bath.”

The day goes in an oddly non-awkward direction after that. They’ve lived together often enough that getting dressed and clean in close quarters is nothing new. Joe votes for hiding from the world  bit longer, so they settle in on the very squishy bed and watch a silver plated T.V, Joe laughing whenever Barclay yells at cooking shows they way other people yell at football games. 

He still sleeps on the couch that night. 

The next day Joe is up bright and early, suggesting they drive to a nearby tourist trap, using his phone to pick out a breakfast place that serves Barclays favorite local coffee blend. They follow that same process the next two days; find some strange roadside attraction or nearby bookstore, eat, and return back to the motel to lay side by side on the bed and to read or watch T.V.

It’s as they’re wandering around a strange, knock-off Carhenge that Joe sighs, “I sort of saw it coming, you know? Iris leaving. I proposed because I cared about her, but she was the one who brought it up, and every time we were visiting her family or she got off the phone with them, she’d bring it up more forcefully. I think she was under more pressure to settle down than I grasped. If our places were switched, I might have run too. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to marry me.”

Barclay crunches to a stop in the snow “Why the fuck not?” 

“Because I’m exactly the kind of guy you’d want to bring home to your family but not spend your life with. My job has weird hours and travel, my non-work clothes have cryptids on them, I can be too particular, and I’m not that exciting for someone whose job is special agent-”

“No, fuck that, you’re a catch.”

“You’re just used to me, big guy. Your objectivity is in question.”

“Yeah, well, you’re even more used to you, so I’m really the more objective one here.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Joe stares at his footprints, then elbows the cook, “come on, lets go get lunch.”

Barclay is still full and happy, having warmed up via a soak in the tub (where he thought of four different ways to use the cuffs and then had to calm down his cock enough to get out), when he comes into the main room and finds Joe staring at his phone. 

“Oh shit, did she get in touch?”

“Yes. Iris, um, is on a cruise ship. As a yoga instructor. She says it’s something she’s dreamed of for years, that she’s sorry for hurting me, but that marrying me would have been a step in a life she did not want to lead. So. That’s that.” He puts the phone face down, cards his fingers through his hair, “Lord almighty I wish she’d just said no when I asked.”

“Me too.” Barclay imagines a different past, where Joe asked him instead, where he said yes because it’s what he’s been dreaming of since he was twenty-two. Where Joe is sitting in front of him, not sad-eyed and tired, but happy as can be. 

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

This hangover is somehow worse than the one the morning after his non-wedding. Then again, he drank more in a shorter period, hoping to drown out the memory of the words on the screen. 

Or the words he overheard at the reception.

“Tell him how you really feel”

He’s had his suspicions about Barclay from time to time, most frequently when they were younger and he felt those deep brown eyes on his ass every time he turned around. But Barclay never took a chance; there were times after break-ups when Joe is certain anyone who was interested would have taken advantage of him being vulnerable and available, but instead Barclay cheered him up, the same way Joe did when Barclay’s relationships ended. Stern concluded neither of them wanted more. 

He would have taken more in an instant. His love for Barclay walked the line between romantic and platonic, and he would have crossed it the moment Barclay asked him to.

Now, he’s bathing with his eyes shut because any light is murder on his skull, his best friend waking up on the couch where he’s insisted on staying because clearly Joe’s lost his appeal. Who’d want to sleep with someone who got roaring drunk and needed babysitting?

He pops aspirin, drinks water, and lays down with his sleep mask over his eyes. Barclay moves around the room, talking softly in that gentle baritone that, not for the first time, makes Stern wonder what he sounds like when he cums. 

“You want me to run and grab breakfast?”

“No, I can get it for both of us. Lord knows you’ve done enough for me this week.”

“You gonna go downstairs blindfolded?”

“For you, I’ll risk a headache OW, owow.” His back locks up just as he tries to sit upright.

The bed sags, “Holy shit man, you’ve got a huge knot right here.”

“My back always does that when I’m stressed, it’ll be fine.”

“Nuhuh, lay down and let me see if I can get it out.” Barclay nudges him onto his stomach and he flops willingly, mask still on. 

“You don’t need to Ohhhhhhhhhnnn, I forget about those bakers hands.”

“Gonna knead you like dough, babe.”

Stern blushes at the name; he was always a little jealous when his friend called his boyfriends that. 

When thumbs pass below his shoulder-blades he moans, arches at the second of pain, “That’s it, that’s the epicenter.”

He can’t stop sighing as Barclay runs his hands over him, can’t stop wiggling his hips at every burst of relief. He pushes his ass up without meaning too, and a bitten-back whine reaches him. 

Fuck it. Even if he’s about to make a huge mistake, he wont have to look Barclay in the eyes.

“What did Indrid mean? At the reception.”

“Uh.” Barclay’s hands still, “uh. That I was worried about you.”

“Try again.” He grinds his ass back deliberately. 

“Joe, please, I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here. You’re underneath me shirtless and I am not gonna do this a dumb way.”

“Do what?”

“Tell you that, that I, no nope, I’m gonna do this back home, at the Lodge or something, make you dinner first and be all romantic so that you don’t think I’m talking with my dick when I say I love you.”

Barclay’s whole body tenses. Joe flips onto his back, regrets the sudden movement, and lifts his sleep mask. He takes one of his frozen hands from the air.

“I love you too.”

“Really?” Barclay sounds like a teenager whose crush just said yes to prom.

“Really. And I don’t think it’s just your dick talking. Although if you wanted to bring it into the equation I wouldn’t mind.” He sends a pointed stare at the half-hard shape under worn denim.

Barclay’s breathing is picking up, his posture trapped between movements. 

“Do you, um, do you want to kiss?”

His friend drops down in reply, smashing their lips together and parting his own imploringly until Stern slips his tongue between them. His big hands cup Stern’s face and his hips grind like he thinks his parents will be home any minute. 

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, Joe, ohgod, babe, please, please let me be good to you” the kisses on his face and neck are messy and the sweetest sensation he’s ever felt. 

“Barclay, you’ve always been good to me.”

“I meant this” he drags their dicks together, “kind of good.”

“Ohlord, yes okay, good point. Get your clothes off and bring me the purple bag that’s in my suitcase.”

Barclay grabs the bag, upends it and sends several sex toys, his strap-on underwear, and lots of condoms onto the bed, undresses as Stern sets one of the toys into the harness. 

“I need to put this back on.” He lowers the mask and hears a soft whine.

“I like seeing your eyes.”

“You’ll see them plenty, big guy, I promise. Now, open yourself up, please.”

“Oh hell yes.” A rip of foil, a pop of lube, and then Barclay straddles him, grunting delightfully. 

“Tell me when you get to three, that should be enough for this toy.”

Pre-cum drips just above the waistband of the underwear, and he gets a thrill remembering the few times he’d caught an accidental glimpse of Barclay’s dick. It’s big, that much he knows, and he’s going to have a lot of fun with it once he’s done reducing the man above him to tears. 

“T-three, babe.”

“Get my dick wet and then get to it.”

When he gets the gasp that tells him the toy is in, he smile and reaches to the underside of the base, “Remember that new dick I was excited about?”

“The vibrating one? OHFUCK, fuckyeahbabe” Barclay jerks and moans, his movements erratic even as he sinks all the way down. Stern echoes him, the pressure of the other man’s body makes the vibrations hit all the right spots. 

“Here’s how this is going to work, big guy; I’m going to get off while I fuck you, and if you can hold off on coming until I’m done, I’ll let you fuck me.”

“God yeah, Joe, fuck me, please.” 

He thrusts up and there’s a thud of Barclay’s hands hitting the headboard. The movement is rough on his stomach but he doesn’t care, grabs hold of thick thighs and fucks him, the other man working his hips in an attempt at rhythm.

The mask catches on a pillow, letting him see Barclay from the neck down. Lord, he looks good like this, big (Stern’s always loved how big he is), letting out the most appealing grunts and growls, dark hair covering most of his softly muscled body…

Wait a minute. 

He claps a hand over his mouth, laughing. 

“Whats, aAAhnnn, what’s so funny babe?”

“Remember when you found that Sasquatch dildo and bigfoot romance novel in my stuff?”

“Hard to forget.”

“I just discovered the source of the fantasy.”

“Are, are you saying I look like bigfoot when I fuck?” Barclay is shaking with laughter. 

“Kind of?”

“I’m putting that on a sign in my den.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late AHHhhnnnfuck, fuck, baby, pleasepleaseplease say you’re close.”

“Why? In a hurry to fuck me?”

“After ten fucking years? Yes.”

He focuses on rubbing off on the toy, holding Barclay in place to keep it at the right angle, orgasm building sudden and swift when he works his hips just right and Barclay starts whimpering.

“Shit” he bites out as it ripples through him, aftershocks jerking his hips and making them both groan. 

Barclay climbs off and he wiggles the underwear off and kicks them off the bed. 

“Okay, big guy, now you can fuck meSHIT, lordalmighty you  feel good.”

“Fucking knew it would, knew you were fucking made for me Joe, fuck you’re incredible.” The hand that’s not balancing him on the mattress is shoving Sterns left out and up so he can drive deeper, shaking the walls on each thrust. Stern wonders if there’s a way recreate ten years of pent up desire so that Barclay will fuck him with this same furious affection every night of his life.

He’s limp post-orgasm, happy to let Barclay manhandle him to his hearts content. When the other man sits up, dragging his hips into his lap, he moans louder than he had in years. 

“That’s it babe, lemme hear how good it is, fuck, no one’s ever looked this good taking my dick, c’mon, take it all the way, take me all the way while I cum in you.”

“Ohlord.” his toes curl weakly as bucks into him faster and faster.

“Fucking years, years I’ve wanted cum in whatever hole you’d give me, now I’m gonna and you’re gonna feel it for weeks, fuck, babe, that’s it, ohhhnn Joe, Joe” there’s a final growl as Barclay holds his legs open, the last jolts of his orgasm making his fingers dig into his skin. 

As he’s coming down and pulling out, Stern slips off the mask, blinking at the sight before him. Barclay, flushed and slick with sweat, staring at him like he’s a prize he’d never thought he’d see.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He winces at how childish it sounds. A week ago he had a fiancee, for gods sake. 

“Yeah, hell yes, wait, Joe, you just got out of an engagement. You, you sure you don’t want some time alone or to, like, explore other options?”

Stern crawls over to him, beard scratching his palm when he turns his cheek, “Barclay, I’ve always been one step away from falling in love with you, and it turns out this was the step. I trust you, I get along better with you than anyone else, and apparently we work well in bed. If, um, if you don’t want this, if it’s too late, I understand. But if you want to be together, I want that too.”

Barclay blinks. Then he blinks again. And then he’s crying and Stern pulls him into the hug.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Joe, don’t apologize. I’m so fucking happy, I’ve wanted to hear this for so long it’s just” a shaky breath, “just didn’t expect it to hit so hard. I love you, Joseph, and nothing would make me happier than being your boyfriend.”

They stay like that for awhile, talking in confessions and professions of feelings. Then Joe kisses him, and pulls him towards the bathroom to clean up (and maybe use those cuffs) before heading out to lunch.

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

Indrid opens the message on his phone, smiles, and texts four words in reply. 

I told you so

[managingmymuse]

employment

for writer's month day 2: coffeeshop AU

(original work, time-traveler universe)

No one in my family had ever really had a job.

We worked, of course. Running the farm was an entire summer's worth of back-breaking labor. Our portion of the homestead, too, required a lot of work to keep and maintain. When we were away, in another town or another century, we took on odd jobs to keep ourselves fed. In the pre-industrial age, my mother and sister and I took on laundry and mending, while my brother and my father hired themselves out as hands. Sometimes we'd stay for a week, other times for a whole season, but no matter where or when we were, there was always work to be found.

But that was the pre-industrial age. I was beginning to discover that the twentieth century was a lot harder to work around.

"Do you have your social security card?" the woman behind the counter asked.

I was standing in the pleasantly blank hallways of a large department store. The carpet was a dingy peach, and the walls had a magic-eye-like pattern to them. The faint sounds of classical music drifted through the air, piped in from a speaker that I hadn't yet been able to locate.

I shifted uneasily on my feet. "My what?"

"Your social security card," she said. "It's a blue card about this big." She held up her thumb and forefingers about three inches apart. "It's a government document."

"I don't think I have one," I said slowly.

The woman behind the counter popped her gum. "Sure you do. Everyone has one. It's probably at your parents' house."

"Right," I said, already thinking of how I could lay my hands on someone else's. "Can I call them and get back to you?"

"You sure can." The woman blew another bubble and removed the clipboard containing my half filled out job application. "You don't need to start today, do you?"

"I can't start without the card?" I asked. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's corporate policy. We get in big trouble if we hire you without it. But don't worry, we've got tons of available positions. Come back with it by next week, and we'll start you on the floor. Okay?"

I pressed my hands flat against the counter, struggling to take deep breaths. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get the card that fast," I said. "My parents... they live out of state."

"They haven't lost it, have they?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea."

The woman stared at me over the counter. Her jaw worked furiously, but her eyes held sympathy. "You can always write to the records office where you were born if your mom can't find it," she said. "Though that's going to take longer."

"I really need this job," I said. "I can't... I don't know if I can wait a week.

The woman tilted her head to the side. I don't know if she sensed my desperation or not, but she must have felt bad for me, because she pressed up on her toes, looking out into the empty hall behind me before rummaging around on the counter for a piece of paper.

"Okay," she said. "You didn't hear this from me, but I've got a friend in town. Her name's Sherri. She owns a little place down by the university. Java and Jams. You ever heard of it?"

I shook my head, and the woman wrote down an address. "Sherri's got a bit of a bleeding heart. You tell her you've got no papers, and she'll probably take you on."

"You think she has a job for me?"

"Fall term is set to start in another week," the woman said. "I know she's got a job from you." She smiled brightly. "Tell her Karen sent you."

"Karen," I said.

She pointed to her name tag and smiled again. "That's right. You take care now, dear. And if you do get your card and you still want to a job, well, give me a call."

She extended a card to me along with the paper she'd written the address on.

"I... thank you," I said.

"No trouble," she said.

Behind me, the sound of footsteps heralded the arrival of someone else. Karen straightened up, smoothing her vest down over her shirt. "Well, miss, if that will be all?"

I glanced at the corner, and a man, heavy-set and wearing a thick tie, came into view. Karen's manager, if the squinty look in his eye and his name badge was to believed. "Thanks for your help," I said, before disappearing down the crowded aisles of the store.

It was a forty minute walk from the mall to the university district in the center of town. On an ordinary day, I would have hated it. But today it gave me some time to think.

Some time to think about how screwed I was, that is. I'd been in the 1985 for three days now, and already my supply of emergency rations was running dry. I hadn't planned to come here, so I didn't have any kind of modern currency on my person. Before my jump, I'd been in pre-colonial America, and the things the Iroquois had traded-- corn and squash and tobacco-- wouldn't get me anything here.

(Also, they were precious difficult to carry; say what you will about the modern capitalist economy, but it did make emergency funds easy to carry around).

I'd lucked into a place to stay, an apartment that was, blessedly, vacant. But if the calendar on the wall was to be believed, the professors that lived there would be coming back, and soon. I had to find a new place to stay, and enough money to buy it with. Not to mention a little extra to buy some food to eat.

My stomach rumbled even as I thought about it, and the sound tempted me to just jump home. To find a nice, shadowy alleyway, cross my fingers, and jump. But even as my stomach begged me to do it, my mind pulled back on the idea.

It wasn't that I didn't have the juice for it; after three days' rest, I had the stamina to jump back five hundred years at least, let alone a paltry one hundred. But the last time I'd jumped, Micah had found me. Not after an hour or a day or a week, but immediately. Within moments of my arrival.

I supposed I was lucky he hadn't turned up here. That I hadn't turned a corner and run smack into him. But even though I was in the clear-- for now-- I couldn't help but worry that by jumping to the Homestead, I was endangering everyone within it. Turning our only safe haven into a trap we couldn't escape.

A shiver rolled down my spine, even in the afternoon spine. I'd jumped with with Micah literally on top of me that last time. His knee had held me down while his hands wrapped around my neck. If I'd been anyone else-- my brother, or my mother, even -- I'd be dead now. I would have been too drained from the last jump to jump away.

But I was a freak among freaks. Damaged almost too far for repair. I screamed and kicked and fought, and somehow I drew in just enough air to pull it down into my middle. To speak the words to send me away.

I hadn't been terribly concerned with where at the time. I certainly hadn't been thinking of 1985. But apparently my subconscious was ready for hair bands and spandex, because here I was.

It wasn't a bad place to be, I told myself, as I turned onto the coffee shop's street. It could have been worse.

The coffee shop was tucked away in a Tudor-style building that looked more like a home than a shop. Though it stood on a relatively busy street, it had a front garden fit for the suburbs. Wildflowers grew in great plumes on either side of the walk. A sign hanging from a wooden post in the yard read "Java and Jams."

I sighed and started for the door.

At nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, the place was almost empty. A man sat behind a bistro table in a corner reading a book and nursing a cup of coffee. A woman with frizzy red hair in a bun swept the floor in the middle of the room.

She looked up when I entered and set the broom down. "Need an afternoon pick me up?" she asked. "Today's special is the Colombian blend."

I wrinkled my nose. "No, no thank you. Are you Sherri?"

She wiped her hands on her apron, red and splattered with what looked like foam. "Who's asking?"

"I'm Allison," I said, putting a hand over her chest. "Karen sent me. From the mall."

Sherri tilted her head to the side, and the resemblance between the women instantly resolved itself. Sisters. They were sisters. "You looking for a job?"

"If you're hiring," I said. "I didn't see a sign."

"I don't advertise much," Sherri said. She sighed and moved behind the counter. "What was wrong with the mall? Don't you want to work in that over air-conditioned tundra?"

I risked a smile and stepped closer. "Karen said she would hire me if I came back with my social security card," I said. "But I... I don't think I have one."

Sherri's eyes flashed wide in alarm. She glanced over my shoulder at the man in the corner. He was still deeply absorbed in his book. "Well then. Have you ever worked in a coffee shop before?"

I suspected that doling out cups to hungry miners in California didn't count. "I've done some food service before with my family," I said. "But not coffee."

"Well." Sherri sucked on her teeth, looking me up and down. She must have decided something, because she nodded once, fiercely. "You seem a good sort. I can give you a try. We can fit in two weeks of training before the poets come back."

"The poets?" I asked.

Sherri's lips spread into a broad, genuine smile. "That's who mostly comes in here, in the first weeks of term. It's poets and novelists, starving and otherwise. They come to discuss literature and human misery. It's all quite dramatic."

I gaped at her, but the sparkle didn't leave Sherri's eyes. "We'll have college students later in the term, too," she said. "They don't usually show up until they've got midterms, though. Are you at the university?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

Sherri looked at me, thoughtfully. "Well then. Two week trial. Cash okay? We'll do under the table unless you've got a bank."

A sigh of relief bubbled up from my stomach. "Cash is great," I said. "When can I start?"

Sherri untied her apron, pulled it off her neck, and offered it to me. "Right now. There's only an hour until we close up-- summer hours and all that-- but I think I can run you through the basics. Does that work?"

I tied the apron behind my back. "That works," I said. "That works really well."

[lochrannn]

AU-gust: Mama, didn’t mean to make you cry

Read on AO3

prompt no 11: Summer Camp

Characters: Lila Pitt, Diego Hargreeves, Number Five Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

-

Diego has asked her twice whether she’d like to help out with the summer holiday programme that he’s set up at his gym for inner city kids whose parents haven’t got the means or availability to send them off to camp, but Lila just waffled a half-answer that boiled down to “no thanks” and he hasn’t asked her again.

It’s not like she doesn’t support the idea. She supposes it’s a nice thing to do for the kids. Diego’s definitely thriving and she’ll usually actively support anything that’ll make him happy, but he’s enjoying himself with or without her participation and when it boils down to it, Lila really doesn’t need to spend her days hanging out with a bunch of snivelling children full of tragic backstories. She’s got plenty of that herself, thank you very much.

That may not have been how she put it to Diego. Maybe the fact that she very quickly started ranting about snot-nosed brats is the reason why he hasn’t brought it up again.

Until today that is.

“Hey Lila,” Diego calls from the kitchen as she’s in the process of brushing her teeth, “can I ask for a favor?”

Lila walks out of the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste and scrubbing away to find Diego at the kitchen table tinkering with a torch.

“Wha’ ‘ooh you nee’?” Lila asks, finding it a bit hard to articulate around the foam, but she’s sure Diego got the message.

“I… uh… I’m running a little late and I kinda need Five’s van,” he says, not looking up at her, instead concentrating on connecting two very thin looking wires, “He said I could pick it up this morning but I’ve got to get to the gym and won’t have time to swing by the Academy first.”

Then he does take his eyes off his work and instead turns them on her, big and round and shiny, the puppy dog eyes that she personally believes are an unfair tactic in any conversation and asks, “You’re not doing anything this morning, right? You wouldn’t… you know…?” he trails off, apparently hoping that he doesn’t actually have to ask, that she’ll just fill in the rest for herself.

Lila goes over to the kitchen sink to rinse her mouth out and get rid of the toothpaste and once she’s satisfied that she will be able to talk properly again she asks, brandishing her toothbrush a little menacingly at him, “So you’re asking me, on my day off, to take the bus over to the Academy, so I can get the van that your murdering, geriatric brother who walks around in a child’s body, stole off some unsuspecting handyman, even though you could all afford to buy a fucking van, and then bring it to you and what? Get the bus back home after?”

“Uh… yeah?” Diego says a bit dumbly, then rallies and offers, “I’ll make you pancakes this evening!” and when she’s still staring him down he adds, “and I’ll give you a foot rub!”

“That’s not a fair offer, Diego, those are things you like!” Lila says indignantly.

“Yeah, but so do you!” Diego shoots back with an almost sly smirk.

“Urgh!” She throws her hands up in the air, “Fine!”

When Diego gets up and wraps his arms around her, she only resists for a moment on principle and then lets him press his lips against her temple. “Thanks babe!”

-

“Helloooooo?!” Lila calls out as she’s walking into the big entrance hall of the Umbrella Academy mansion.

She doesn’t actually have a key, but she doesn’t need one as nobody ever bothers locking the door. Anyone who might be even a remote threat to the Academy would easily get in whether the door was locked or not.

Her voice echoes in the hall but nobody answers, so she heads to the back stairs to make her way down to the kitchen.

When she gets there she finds both the man she was looking for and also her least favourite Hargreeves sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“Mh, where are the others?” she asks without any real greeting.

“Lila, always a pleasure!” Five’s response is dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, fuck you too!” she shoots back. “So where are the ape man and ghost boy?”

“They’ve gone to help our stabbiest brother with his little community engagement project,” Five answers with a bit of a huff, turning a page of his paper and then giving it a straightening shake.

“Why aren’t you with them?” Lila asks, genuinely curious now.

“I don’t particularly like children.”

Lila nods almost sympathetically.

“And they usually seem to think I’m one of them, which makes me want to chew off my own foot.”

“You are one of them, though, pipsqueak!” Lila says, ruffling his hair on the way to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that all he does is swat at her but doesn’t try and impale her hand with a fork.

“Also, why am I picking the van up if one of you three stooges could have brought it over just as easily?” She’s suddenly filled with indignation.

“Klaus and Luther were already gone when Diego rang and I’m waiting for an important call from Switzerland,” Five says a bit primly and Lila has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Oh, the CERN thing… And? Will we be sucked into a black hole or do you think that’s another apocalypse you can best?” Lila asks, not actually too concerned. Once you’ve dealt with enough doomsday scenarios, you become a bit desensitised.

Five shrugs. “Time will tell.”

“Right!” That’s enough playing nice with Five for one day, one of the reasons they do get on in a way is because they make sure to interact in bite sized increments, “Where are the keys, then?”

-

As Lila climbs out of the van she wonders how best to get the keys to Diego with the least amount of interaction with any of the screeching children on the premises.

For a moment she even considered just leaving the key in the ignition and wandering off, but she thinks Diego would throw a hissy fit. God forbid a car thief might take an interest in their stolen van.

As she comes around the side of the building she can already hear the absolute racket the group of children inside are making and a genuine shiver of apprehension runs down her spine.

But then a closer noise draws her attention and when she takes a look behind the dumpster she regrets having followed her instincts because cowering in the corner is a small child with long, dark, wavy hair that is sobbing uncontrollably.

For a second she thinks she might just hurry inside to let one of the adults know there’s a kid on her own out here, but even to her that doesn’t quite feel right, so she calls out softly, “Uh… little girl… I don’t think you should be out here.”

The girl spins around in shock and her huge, watery, brown eyes fix on Lila, almost like she’s a little bit afraid.

Then she sniffs loudly, Lila tries not to wince at the sound, and says with determination, “I’m not going back in!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Lila asks, approaching the child but also looking around for anyone more qualified to deal with the situation.

“Because Brad’s a dick!” she shouts as if Lila should have guessed that.

Lila has to suppress the urge to laugh at the foul language coming out of such a tiny little person, instead she says, “I don’t think you’re supposed to use words like that.”

The girl scowls at her, so Lila tries a different tactic. “What did he do?” she asks while crouching down next to the girl, who doesn’t seem to be too scared of her now.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” the girl mumbles petulantly.

“Okay…” Lila feels entirely in over her head, but so far she hasn’t had the urge to strangle this kid, so maybe she can make it through a conversation with her.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Niha,” the girl answers, “What’s yours?”

“Lila,” Lila offers.

“Oh cool! You’re Lila! Coach Diego talks about you all the time!” There’s genuine excitement in the girl’s expression now and LIla is completely taken aback.

“He does?!” she asks, her voice maybe just a bit shrill.

“Yeah! He says you’re one of the best fighters he knows and that it doesn’t matter that you’re a girl, that you put him on his ass all the time in training. See, Coach Diego uses bad language as well!” Niha says triumphantly, as if she’s just won some kind of argument.

“Yeah, I bet he does.” Lila is quite baffled at the glimpse she’s getting of Diego’s summer camp.

“Do you really not want to talk about what Brad did?” she then asks with as gentle a voice as possible, hoping to change the subject, as she suddenly feels a bit awkward about the idea that all of these children apparently know about her.

Niha huffs and caves in on herself again.

“He said I was dirt poor because I didn’t bring any snacks from home.” She sniffs and then blubbers on, “But that’s not even the truth, my mom just didn’t buy any for me. She doesn’t really care that much, I don’t think she really loves me!” And then the girl starts sobbing again and Lila has no idea what to do.

That’s not quite true. She knows what she’s supposed to say. She’s supposed to say ‘of course you’re mummy loves you, she probably just forgot’, but who the hell is she to tell anyone that their mum loves them?

So instead she puts her hand on the small girl's back and rubs it gently, then says, “Hey Niha, you know what? In a few years’ time you’ll be able to get a job and earn your own money and buy all the snacks you want!”

“I’m only eight!” Niha says with a bit of confusion and a bit of indignation and Lila has to admit maybe that wasn’t the best argument.

“Okay, look, I’ll buy you some snacks, okay? And Diego can bring them in for you tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“But he brings us snacks anyway!” The girl looks at her like she’s a bit of an idiot and right now Lila feels almost inclined to agree.

“But these’ll be special snacks, you little knowitall, just for you from me, alright?” Lila explains, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Niha’s eyes start shining brightly again, filling with more unshed tears and Lila hopes she’s not going to start crying again because she doesn’t think her brittle heart can take any more of that, but then something else seems to occur to the girl and she asks, nosily, “Are you Coach Diego’s wife?”

“Uhm!” Lila just makes a noise in panic and is luckily saved by the clanging sound of the metal door to the gym.

“Yo Niha, what are you doing out here? Oh, hey Lila!” Diego calls out with a surprised look on his face as he makes his way over.

Niha looks up at Lila, apparently hoping that she can explain the situation, but really, Lila is not too sure.

“Uh, she said she just needed some air, but she’s all better now, right?” Lila looks at the girl imploringly and she seems just as happy to go along with the lie.

“Well you’d better get back inside, then, we’re about to start an epic game of hide and seek!” Diego explains to the girl and it seems that was the best suggestion Niha has heard all day, because she jumps up to run over to the entrance. She just about manages to remember her manners when she calls out “Thanks!” to Lila before disappearing through the door.

Lila is still crouched on the floor, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“You okay?” Diego asks while she can hear him approach her. She doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s frowning.

Lila just hums noncommittally, but doesn’t move. The thought of that little girl making her way through life without being sure of her mother’s love is slowly breaking her heart.

“What’s up?” Diego tries again, as he reaches her.

She still doesn’t answer and when a tear rolls down her cheek, she feels Diego’s hand wrap around her arm and he pulls her to her feet before enveloping her in a tight hug.

She wraps her arms around his waist, to squeeze against him even more tightly and presses her face into his chest, hoping she can hide the fact that she’s crying. If not from Diego, then at least from the rest of the world.

He doesn’t ask her about it, at this point he knows she won’t talk until she’s ready to, instead he just holds on to her, stroking her hair gently with one hand until she feels no more brimming tears and she pulls away.

He does keep his hand at the back of her head though as he stoops a little to look her straight in the eyes. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lila says, a bit embarrassed about her sudden mild breakdown.

“You wanna come inside?” Diego asks with a soft smile that never fails to make something flutter in her chest and she feels at least a bit better.

“Nah, I’m good!” she says, voice more steady now.

“You sure?” Diego tries to make certain as he rights himself and lets his hand drop from her head to take her own with it instead.

“Yes, definitely,” Lila squeezes his hand to reassure him. “Don’t have the time, anyway. I’ve gotta go to the supermarket and buy some snacks!”

[aestheticwritingz]

Time of Our Lives (5SOS) part 1

PLEASE READ:

Hello guys! I’m back with this short story series. For the sake of the story, the “Y/Ns” are not the same person, considering there will be “different” ones for each guy - but I write them like that so you guys can enjoy as you would in regular fics. I picture this type of story like a movie, so I tried to write it so that you can imagine the setting and situations very well. warnings: ashton smut here; dirty talk, choking, quickie & more Enjoy reading & send feedback! Part 2 coming sooner than you think.

-

Saturday, 6:17 AM, the morning after

Calum woke up under the bleachers, barely able to move any part of his body. The sun rose over the nearby hills, hitting his body sprawled over the grass. He rubbed his eyes, trying to comprehend what happened the night before. This morning, even.

“I’m never drinking again.” he thought, trying to lift himself off the damp grass. He tried to reach for his phone, that was supposed to be in the pocket, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he found a small piece of paper that had a few random drawings on it, but a written sentence beneath, that said: 

                               “And she held the cup. 49832″

“What does this even mean?”

As he was trying to process things that were happening around him, he noticed two people laying far away from him. One of them was a girl for sure, considering she wore a skirt, and she had really nice legs as Calum thought. The other was a guy, still holding a can of beer, but Calum couldn’t figure out who they were, yet. He at least hoped he would find his wallet in the other pocket, but rather found it on the ground near him. Calum checked if anything was gone, but the only thing he noticed missing was a condom.

“Did I have sex last night?”

And then, it started coming back to him.

But, let’s go back a couple of days first.

Thursday, 11:14 AM

“Do you sincerely think your plan will work? Like really, think about it.... like really.” Michael exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair. “First of all, it’s our plan. Second, I got it all set, have you not been listening to what I was saying?” Calum said, closing his locker as they started walking to their class, meeting Luke and Ashton on the way.

“I can’t wait to tell them the plan,” he said, referring to the other two guys coming their way. “Let’s ditch this class either way.”

Paul’s Diner, 11:37 AM

“So..if I got it all clearly,.. you want to ask the principal of school to make our senior party in school tomorrow night, since tomorrow is the last day of school..ever?” Ashton said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Mhm,” Calum smirked.

“..And spend the night of the last day of school...in school?”

“I told you so Calum, this makes no sense-” Michael stressed, but Ashton cut him off.

“Awesome! I love it! When are we going to talk to the principal?”

“What?” Michael said confusingly.

“Damn right, Ashton’s on board!” Calum rubbed his palms together, and snapped them on the table of the old diner they decided to spend their 3rd period at.

“What about alcohol?” Luke said, knowing that anyone in school won’t actually let them drink on their watch. “We will sneak it in, that’s not a problem. I talked with the girls earlier, they have few ideas already.” Calum said, talking about their friends, who got in trouble but had so much fun with the boys every single time.

“What about music?”

“DJ that played Michael’s birthday party. I got it all covered guys. You just have to show up, and make me persuade the big guy to make this happen.”

“Sounds like a plan to me then,” Luke smiled and Calum could do nothing but jump on the top of the seat and clap his hands. “Alright, so this is how we do it.”

Principal’s office, 12:11 PM

"Let me see if I understood you clearly. You want to throw a party in school tomorrow night?”

“How many times am I going to be asked this question today?” Calum muttered to himself, proceeding to roll his eyes. “Yes. We would like that so we can spend the last time in school being around classmates and having fun. Dance a little, and stuff like that you know,” Calum laughed and principal gave him a confused look.

“You see, what Calum wants to say, we want to leave a school with a bang.” Ashton continued, and it obviously made the situation way worse.

“Sir, is it possible to have a party here at such a short notice?” Luke interrupted, trying to make the whole conversation at least sound better, in order to make Mr. Simmons even think about the idea. “Well, it is a short notice, but I guess we can work it out. However, there are a few things you have to respect in order to make this happen. We can’t spend any more school budget because of the trouble at prom that happened, that cost this school a lot and- I won’t even talk about it,” “That was funny, though,” Ashton laughed, Calum following shortly behind him, as Michael hit the both of them on the arm.

“Anyhow, you are on your own about that. School will allow if you students would like to raise some money for music, decorations, snacks and drinks but no alcohol. If anyone breaks these rules, even though the school is over, it will go to your records and affect your applications to college, and I promise you this.” Simmons said sternly. “And also, the party could only last until 11 PM.” “What?!” Calum yelled and after trying to make Mr Simmons rethink his choices, it was in vain.

“You are known in school as troublemakers. Don’t make me change my mind. You have one day to plan everything.” And with that, they left the office.

“Good thing my parents leave tomorrow morning for a business trip, huh?” Calum smirked, leaving the boys in shock.  “And you didn’t think to mention that? Why should we even hang out in school in the first place?” “I will explain everything... when it’s the right time”

The guys entered the school radio room and notified everyone there will be a party, where to give as much money as they can and when the party will be held. Not much to their surprise, everybody was down to go. They organized a bunch of friends to raise money, pick up the drinks and food and girls to decorate the gymnasium. Calum’s house, 3 PM

“Don’t you get it? This doesn’t change anything. The only reason I wanted to make that party happen is to distract the guards, shut off security cameras and leave the door of the fields unlocked, so we can go there before the sunrise.” Calum explained. The thing with this was, once a guy who knew a guy who knows a guy told Calum that someone was caught on the field in the middle of the night after some senior party, then got arrested for trespassing and couldn't get into college that year. Hence, they set up the cameras, and Calum wouldn't let his senior year be over before spending the last sunrise on the benches or in the middle of the field drinking beer, just like his older sister and generations before did. On the other hand, they couldn't do it during the day, there were no distractions and everyone working in the school were there. “Either way, party at my house will start at 11PM, so boys get to tweeting and sending messages about the party.”

"About the wild plan to shut off security cameras..Do you realize that’s illegal? How are even going to do that?"

"Here's how. Picture it."

Ashton’s garage, 9PM

Opening the last beers they had, Ashton, Michael, Luke and Calum talked through the plan they had. The sun was beginning to set in the suburbs, creating a nostalgic feeling in each one of them. Even more so, as they talked through memories they made in high school and how everything will be different once the summer ends. They tried not to get too sentimental, considering all the other things they had to make happen.

They knew this was more than just an occasion to drink and dance. They knew that after this, they wouldn’t see some people for a long time, so this was an excuse to get a proper goodbye. 

“So, about the house party, what do we need?” Ashton broke the silence between them. 

“Well, as usual. Drinks, cool lights, sound system, music. Chicks,” Calum laughed, although he wasn’t far from the truth. 

“I have good lights, I will bring them first thing in the morning, after your parents leave. Mikey, how are we on the speakers?” Ashton said.

“Will be delivered first thing in the morning as well.” He responded, taking a big gulp from his beer can.

“Yes, sir. I will make a good playlist of party songs, about one hundred. Enough to play until everybody gets drunk. Then, we play it all again, people won’t even notice.” Calum added. 

“Hook up rooms?” Luke asked.

“My room is off-limits for anyone except us, as always. Master bedroom, Mali’s old room, and the room in the basement, they are all available.”

“Cool. What about the drinks, though? How are we on money?” “Should we get beer, vodka and tequila? Those are the usual, and tell people to bring some of their own and we can get some snacks, is that cool?” Michael said.

“For sure, sodas and maybe orange juice. Lemons for tequila shots too.” Calum added. 

“So we got it all set. Get to texting people boys!” Ashton exclaimed, picking up his phone.

The night was wearing off and the boys decided to head home. Getting on their bikes and skateboards, they said goodbye to Ashton and rode off. That’s when he got a message.

Y/N’s POV, 9:41PM

“I wanna see you.” 

I had to text Ashton. I knew that he wanted to see me just as much as I wanted to see him. It’s been a while, too much for the both of us. After we decided to take a break, it wasn’t really going as we planned. Occasionally, when we saw each other at a party for instance, we would hook up and ignite the sparks again, making it harder to move on. We knew very well we could never take a break for good, there was just something between us. Sparks, fire, desire - you name it. He knew I was his always, but I knew that he was mine as well. Hence, the text.

“I want to see you too.”  He was quick on response, and that’s all it took for me to get dressed and sneak out of my house.

Not long after, I was in front of Ashton’s garage, throwing small rocks at his window above. Light turned on and I saw a silhouette of his naked torso, but soon he disappeared as he went for the door. He quietly opened his back door, motioning with his hand towards him - a sign for me to come inside even more quietly. 

“I don’t think my parents are asleep yet, I can hear the TV-” He started but I cut him off as soon as I stepped in. I attacked his lips hungrily with mine, and we started our make out session filled with fire and desire right there in his kitchen. He pulled away quickly, realizing someone could hear us. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” He whispered, pulling me towards him and leading me to his room. 

“I missed you Ashton.” I whispered as we were going up the stairs.

“I missed you too Y/N. I’m going to show you just how much.”

That alone sent shivers down my spine, anticipating what’s going to happen next - but I already knew. As soon as we got to his room and he locked the door, I started taking my clothes off, him following soon after with the same action. Ashton pushed me gently on the bed, quickly hovering above me as we started making out. He immediately grabbed my hair and pulled it back so he can get access to my neck. Gentle kisses turned into rough licking and bites, the wish to have me as soon as possible was too strong.

“I missed you.” He whispered in my ear as he took my bra off and tossed it next to the bed. All I did in response is a let out a moan as he wrapped his lips around my nipple and cupped the other breast with his hand. As my moaning got more intense, he pulled away and proceeded to slide of my panties. 

Ashton didn’t hesitate to slide his fingers against my wetness, ducking his head down and licking up a rough stripe against my clit. I whimpered at the sudden contact - the mix of pleasure, tingle and a bit of a tickle.

He kneeled above me, taking in what was beneath him, devouring the whole view with his eyes. He unexpectedly slid two of his fingers inside me and, as he knew was coming, he put the other hand over my mouth right away. The light scream I produce was muffled by his hand. He knew this was a turn on I always had, for him to get all dominant and rough with me - control all of me.

Ashton continued to slide his fingers in and out of me, curling them at the right spot as I held to his hand, the one that kept my mouth shut. 

“I can see how good I’m making you feel baby.” Ashton said looking directly in my eyes. I let out a struggled moan, not able to contain the facial expressions I was making. 

I was one the verge of an orgasm, but that stopped Ashton. He loved to tease and keep me on the edge. In a matter of seconds his boxers were off, the condom was on and he was once again hovering above me, lining himself up.

“How bad do you want it baby girl?”

“So bad, please.” I answered desperately and he obliged, slowly filling me up. He fell on top of me, locking his hands under my shoulders and tangled them in my hair and around my head. The only place he had support were his elbows and he used them to rock both of us on the bed.

As much as he wanted to go slow, something switched in him and he started pounding me into the bed. Only thing I could do was push my hips from time to time to meet his.

“Fuck, don’t stop Ashton please,” I screamed out, which made him put his palm over my mouth once again.  “Be a good girl and shut up.” He said roughly, gazing at me directly. He lifted himself up and wrapped his hand around my neck making it the only support he had to hold his tall, muscular body. 

“You are such a good girl when you take it like that,” He said pushing two fingers in my mouth. “What a good girl.” He was amazed looking at me as I was sucking his fingers. That only made him eager to get us both off and continued to move inside of me at just the right speed.

“Are you going to cum baby? Tell me, are you going to cum?” He asked breathlessly in my ear, letting out a string of groans as well.  “I’m so close Ashton,”

“Be a good girl and cum for me, c’mon,” He said and it was all it took me to release. I took a pillow that was beside my head and screamed into it, trying as hard as possible not to make any noise. My whole body tingled, every spot had electricity of its own and I felt Ashton getting close to cumming as well. 

“I love it when I make you cum like that,” He moaned and thrust sloppily until he reached his orgasm to, gripping me by my shoulders. He plopped down on me, making it difficult for both of us to catch breath again.

After he took the condom off and threw it away, he cuddled next to me.

“I hate being apart from you.” He said scratching my arm. “I hate it too,” “It’s been so long, we couldn’t keep away from each other. We tried. Let’s try working on each other and us, and never be apart again. I miss sleeping next to you and having you-” Ashton started.  “I’m always yours. I want to try. After the party on Friday, let’s sit down and talk about everything.” I said, looking at the time on the clock that was sitting on the night stand.

“I wish I could stay longer, but my parents are going to kill me if they notice I’m not at home.”

“Okay. Do you need a ride?” He asked and I waved my head “no”.

“Sure?” “Sure.”

“I love you.

“I love you too,” I said kissing him and left his house.

[pit-and-the-pen]

100 Follower Event!!

i’ve seen people doing this for follower events so here's mine for 100! Also holy crap guys, I can’t believe I have 100 of you following me and reading my writing. I never thought I would get this many and even though I don’t know most of you, just know that I love you and you are all so amazing! Also a huge thank you to both @thoseofgreatambition and @summer-writes who have both given me so many shoutouts and Summer-writes for doing the follower event that got me 20 followers in like 3 days! Obviously theres so many more that are constantly supporting me but those were the ones that gave me giant boosts and I felt like I needed to thank :)

Here's how it works 

❤️You don’t have to be following me to participate but hey it's fun here (and it's free and greatly appreciated if you do🥺)

❤️Pretty please reblog if you participate

❤️Tag me in completed prompts if you do choose to write one so I can make sure it gets all the love it deserves.

❤️Two fics for each prompt. two promts max for each fic. 

❤️Tell me if you want it as a request for me to write or if you want to write it

❤️Send me an ask with your username (so i can add you to the list), who you are writing for/who you want me to write for, the prompt number 

❤️Any fandom is cool if you’re writing it, and if you want me to write for something other than HP I make no promises but please feel free to ask, I’ll try my best to write about it if I know it. 

❤️OC’s are also allowed! 

❤️Smut is a-okay, just make sure you tag appropriately since I do have some under 18’s following me. (NO UNDERAGE CHARACTERS, INC*ST, or DUB/NON-CON)

❤️HAVE FUN! This is as much for you guys as it is for me!

💙I will cross out prompts once two have been requested so you know which ones are still available. So keep an eye out for the updated versions. (I’ll add a link in my bio and masterlist)

💙I also will keep the pronouns in the request as she/he/they so that way I can get as many people included as possible. It will still count as the same request no matter the reader's gender identity. 

ANGST PROMPTS (my personal favorite category)

1)“She’s/He’s/They're not yours.”

2)“It wasn’t meant to go this far”

3)“Please, not now.”

4)“There's no us, there never was.”

5)“You were ready to leave me for her/him/them?”

6)“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

7)“If lies keep spewing from your lips, I will walk right out that door.” 

8)“Sort yourself out first” 

9)“You deserve so much better”

10)“But you’re married?” 

11)“My mom asked about you again…” (can be concept or dialogue) (2/2)

( @thoseofgreatambition Fred Weasley) 

( @shaynawrites23 Bucky Barnes x Reader)

12)“Shut up”

13)“Are you ever going to listen?” 

14)“I wish I could undo how I feel about you.”

15)“Trust me, if I could take it back I would.” 

16)“I don’t know you anymore.”

17)“Leave. Leave and never come back.” (1/2)

( @wand3ringr0s3 George Weasley) 

18)“You never meant that much to me.”

19)“Please..Just stay.” 

20)“If you’re so damn miserable, then leave.” (1/2)

( @summer-writes Draco x Reader)

21)“I’m sorry but I don’t remember you..”

FLUFF PROMPTS

22)“I love your hugs.”

23)“Can we stay like this forever.” 

24)“Of course I love you, you idiot.” 

25)“You’re in love with her/him/them!” 

26)“I want to marry you.” (1/2)

( @shaynawrites23 Bucky Barnes x Reader) 

27)“Is..Is that my shirt?” (1/2)

( @iliveiloveiwrite Pancakes ) 

28)“Just stay a little longer?”

29)“We’re in this together now.”

30)“If they hurt you, they hurt me.” 

31)“I was practicing all day what to say to you”

@mxl-foy

32)“Do you have to be that painfully beautiful.” (1/2)

( @harrysweasleys Fred Weasley x Reader) 

33)“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

34)“You deserve to be happy.” (1/2)

( @thoseofgreatambition Fred Weasley) 

35)“Well. If you saw yourself how I saw you, could you blame me?” (1/2)

( @harrysweasleys Fred Weasley x Reader) 

36)“Hey. Don’t hide from me, please.” 

37)“You're so cuddly today. I love it.”

38)“I’d be happy here with you.”

39)“Of course I would. That’s what you do for people you love.” 

40)“I don’t care what everyone else thinks, to me, you’re perfect.”

JUST BREAK MY HEART PLEASE

41)“And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” (1/2)

( @wand3ringr0s3 George Weasley) 

42)“Do you only think about yourself?”

43)“You made me do this!”

44)“Everyone hates me now and it’s your fault.”

45)“I just want this to end.”

46)“Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

47)“Guess I loved you more after all.”

48)“I have nothing left to say to you.”

49)“I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.”

50)“I don’t think I can forgive you. No matter how hard you beg.” 

51)“No. Not again. I can’t handle this.”

52)“And..? Is that supposed to change my mind?”

53)“Save your speech for someone who cares.”

54)“Next time you decimate someone, make sure to invite a reporter.”

55)“The person in our living room can hold you together until you come up with a way to shatter more dramatically.”

56)“Is this just a game to you?”

57)“Stop laughing. For once in your life, take this seriously.” 

58)“You broke me and all you can think to say is ‘i’m sorry?!” 

59)“This was all an act. (?)” 

60)“Stop making this a habit.”

Teasing:

61)“I think I’ll make you beg for it.” 

62)“Look at me.”

63)“God I love it when you say my name like that.”

64)“Do you understand how beautiful you look?” (1/2)

( @obsessedwithrandomthings Sausage rolls) 

65)“I have a better use for that mouth.” (1/2)

( @obsessedwithrandomthings George Weasley) 

66)“I’ve wanted you since I knew what that phrase meant.” 

67)“Just come here.”

68)“I could make you scream.”

69)“Just for me right?”

70)“Behave.”

71)“God you’re such a brat.” “And you love it” 

72)“Don’t hide from me. I want to see you.” 

73)“Well good morning to you too” 

74)“Just relax.”

75)“Bite me.” “With pleasure.”

76)“Like what you see?”

77)“Don’t give me that look.”

78)“Didn’t know you could do that.”

79)“Keep it up and see what happens.”

80)“Make me.”

Smut: (Some of these are...a lot...I’m sorry in advance.)

81)“Just try to stay quiet.”

82)“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” 

83)“I'm pregnant, not made of glass.” 

84)“Just wait until we’re alone.”

85)“Were you just touching yourself?”

86)“Damn, you made a mess.”

87)“I can’t wait to taste you.”

88)“I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

89)“That dress would look better on my floor.”

90)“I’m still sore from last night.”

91)“I’ll be gentle, I promise.” “who said I want that?” 

92)“Look what you did to me. I’ve had to deal with this all day.”

93)“Are you just going to eye fuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?”

94)“I just want you to be happy. And naked.”

95)“You make such pretty noises.”

96)“Not until you properly beg for it.”

97)“Do you think you’ve been good enough for that?”

98)“You look so beautiful tied up like that.”

99)“No. I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

100)“We’re going to be late because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

[sleeplessandstubborn]

Emily in Paris episode 3 or it’s still more accurate than American media recent coverture on France.

Ah, I had to write that title. And I am not even talking about American Twitter. But yeah. Feel better. Somewhat I have the impression that this is going to substitute the still a better love story than Twilight in my mind. But, I’m sorry, Stephenie Meyer, I am not here for that but to make a belated, totally improvised, not at all completely planned recap of Episode 3 of Emily in Paris, your favourite Instagram version of the French capital.

So episode 3 starts with our heroine running, as she usually does every morning. Why this Paris is more empty than the town where I live which has like 25,000 inhabitants? So many questions about where did people go. The case is her boss in Chicago calls. Yes, the one who speaks French and should be now best friends with Sylvie but it’s stuck in Chicago with her pregnancy.

I know, Madeline, I know. It would be frustrating for me too that the main trait of my personality was I’m pregnant and on my bed. They both exchange about how now that Doug dumped her Emily’s life is full of croissants and sex, when actually is about sex. Also Emily meets street furniture. As does Madeline, too. I guess that’s not the kind of idea she had of meeting French men. Thanks Anne! Hidalgo of course.

Madeline is sending Emily the corporate commandments for Savoir. Yikes, I thought again, a cultural clash is coming and what are corporate commandments anyway (I don’t know, sounds tacky, I’m just a puzzled European), but for now there are another problems to solve. Emily’s shower breaks, the building manager only speaks French and of course our leading lady is still struggling with understanding it. Also, sidenote: manager building is right with Miss Cooper. Only problems.

Fortunately Gabriel exists and he helps her to break the language barrier. But this isn’t going to magically repair her shower and so Emily has to wash her hair in one of humanity’s wonders, one apex of civilization, the bidet. It’s supposed to be a bad hair day for her afterwards but... Does she look that different? Well, not for me! Discuss:

This shows... A character development! At last! Emily is trying to learn French, and even if her beret isn’t going to help in the task, is good to see she’s trying to adapt. Still, she’s overdoing a bit with that Gioconda bag.

I mean, girl. Relax. In order to improve her knowledge, she tries to trick her teacher - who considers a working place full of French people must be an interesting environment where to study the behaviour of the Emily Cooperius Chicagoensis but refuses the pleasure of her company if there’s not a 50 euros banknote in between. Business is business after all. Cut to Emily reuniting with my adored godess Sylvie, whose elegance and beauty only can be matched with the flag of the twelve stars in the background. Ah, Freude, schöner Götterfunken/ Tochter aus Elysium,/ Wir betreten feuertrunken/ Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

Well, the case is they are going to film the advertisement for De l’Heure today and it’s an important thing Emily keeps her mouth closed and unsmiling because she looks stupid, at least in Sylvie’s opinion. I’d say more scary but well.

Luc and Julien receive them with the enraged face of every European citizen who just met an aggresive attempt  of being forced into the American Way of Doing Things. Which they refuse naturally. Madeline just sent the corporate commandments and everyone is pissed at nonsense like giving praise in public and critizising in private. But off to filming the spot for the perfume. The location is the Pont d’Alexandre III that has featured in like 20,000 advertisement for fragrances. Here they met Antoine and Emily has the twentieth humiliating experience with languages telling she’s horny out of a sudden when she wanted to mean excited.

Emily meets the model, a Serbian blonde beauty that doesn’t speak French, that’s her personality trait. Our heroine seems rejoiced to find at least a kindred soul but we won’t have more time with the model, whose task is to walk across the bridge naked - or wearing the perfume, Antoine says - , while surrounded by men in costumes. The campaign Dream of Beauty, in short. Emily’s reaction is this:

Antoine argues this is meant to represent the woman’s fantasy, to be desired by all these men. Emily doesn’t think this is going to be appreciated by women at the other side of the Atlantic ocean and says the idea is sexists rather than sexy. Filming stop for they to debate, which seems expensive. Stopping, not debating. Without entering on what fantasies are valid or not and who actually pays attention to advertisements for fragrances - I am not one of these people - we don’t get to learn if Emily knows who Cocteau was.

The following morning the plumber can’t fix Emily’s shower. His gestures are pretty easy to understand, as it’s an universal fact that often the pieces needed to repair are not immediately available. Anyway, Emily asks Gabriel to help her with translation again. She must pay him or something. The thing doesn’t get to be fixed and Emily gets to shower in Gabriel’s appartment.

Maybe he has a fantasy of some sort here? Who knows. At the office and after her class, Emily’s first conversation of the day with Sylvie goes, as usual, for a rocky start. She has made lost money and time to the company, her boss argues, and on top of that she’s the prude police. The final straw for Emily immediately after that is that someone (called Luc) drew a dick on the Sacred Corporate Commandments. Having forgotten the fact that drawing penises is part of the human nature since the dawn of times, Emily doesn’t take well the profanation. It’s too much so she goes to lunch with Mindy.

Mindy - who is celebrating a party later and invites her - rolls her eyes at the corporate commandments and more or less say she deserves the hate because she could not expect French people were going to receive that gladly because they are against all. Well, it’s one of their multiple charms. “People like me! That’s my thing!” , Emily argues. Oh my sweet Summer child... Once back at the office, the commercial is as nonsensical as your average perfume commercial. Emily suggests a poll on Twitter to decide if it’s sexy or sexists. Bad or good, they’ll have publicity. Sounds about right?

One day I want to be Sylvie when she answers, after Emily invited her to Mandy’s party: Sorry, I’m busy. Also when she goes on with a mini the reason you suck moment: “You come to Paris. You walk into my office. You don’t even bother to learn the language. You treat the city like it’s your amusement park”. Apparently Emily can’t wrap her head around the idea of not everyone liking her and that you don’t have why to be friends with your bosses or workmates. Girl, just a civilized relationship with them is enough. Anyway... Emily does invite her, incapable of taking a no for an answer.

As predictable - don’t say you didn’t predict it - the party is a bit crowded and, leaving aside Mindy, Emily doesn’t know anyone there. Because, Sylvie knowing better, she didn’t show up. Well done Madame. Out of water again, Emily finds an apparently cute boy who engages in a conversation with her. With hand kissing at the balcony at all.

All it’s very romantic until, when they are strolling the streets and after flirting a bit, Fabien I think was his name - sorry, not checking again - tells her he likes American pussies. This is too much information all of a sudden for Emily - even if it could lead her to learn another the meaning of a new French word, equally related with felines - and storms off to Gabriel’s restaurant. Why is a thing the chef is there, available to serve her a glass of wine, I don’t know, I didn’t write this thing. But finally, finally, FINALLY our heroine says she’s going to stop trying being liked by everyone. Thank you Paris, you inspired some adult realities on Emily’s brain. It’s also a productive night after all because Gabriel says he likes her. So... yay? Since many of you have already seen the complete season, you know that things are... more complicated than that.

Of course the last three minutes of the episode are reserved for Emily Was Right After All moments. The poll is a success even if the commercial is not universally liked - but as Emily has learn this is not that important anymore -, she takes revenge on Luc bringing a dick shaped bread, or cake - I don’t know exactly what it is - which is a funny and irreverent way to respond him aaaand... finds a present from Antoine on her desk, lingerie from La Perla. Which is, ew, a bit creepy.

Aaaand that was all. I had to rewatch it because it had been eras since I last wrote about this series. I promise to be more disciplined with the next ones. Until then.

P.S. Down with Corporation Commandments.

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Appointment

Part 5 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You meet with Sebastian’s oncologist friend in New York

Word Count: 1973

Why the hell were you nervous? This was just another doctor about to say the same words you’d been replaying in your mind for the last few weeks.

But you were nervous. Maybe it was just because you flew into New York City today. You’d never been, and your first stop, after a brief detour to drop off your bags at Sebastian’s apartment, was the New Amsterdam hospital.

You were in New York City.

The Big Apple

A city full of history and life.

You had only a few months left to live, and you were spending your first day in New York City in a fucking hospital, wringing your hands in your lap.

This was a huge mistake. You never should have agreed to this. You should have insisted you go through with the annulment and parted ways in Vegas.

“I had your files sent over from your doctor back in Salt Lake,” Dr. Helen Sharpe said in her British accent. Her eyes flickered to Sebastian, who was seated next to you.

“Boring read, huh?” Joking was a stupid way to try and calm your nerves, but it was the only tool you had at the moment.

She gave you a smile before continuing. “Based on the screenings and tests, I have to say I agree with your prognosis that, if untreated, you’d be lucky to see a year. And out of the treatment options available to you at the moment, I also agree that the best treatment plan only yields a twenty percent chance of shrinking the tumor enough to operate.”

“And then there’s the surgery,” you cut in, voice surprisingly steady. “Which is dangerous and risky because of where the tumor is located. I know.”

You really wanted to give Sebastian an I told you so look, but found that you couldn’t. He’d gotten under your skin and given you hope that maybe his oncologist friend was a miracle worker.

“That is all true. However, I would like to run a series of tests to get current data.”

“Curious to see how big the tumor’s gotten?” Your tone was bitter. “To see if the cancer’s spread?” You were already closing off. Pushing away.

“There are a few clinical studies that are just beginning.” She ignored your juvenile questions. “I have one in mind that I want to see if you qualify for.”

Shaking your head ruefully, you apologized for your earlier words. “I’m sorry, I just…”

Dr. Sharpe leaned forward and trained her eyes right on yours. “I understand. Cancer takes a toll on people. You do seem to be handling everything remarkably well.”

“I didn’t always. But I’ve made my peace. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think the tests are a good idea. I don’t think I’d want to spend my last few months in a clinical trial that just started. Maybe if I’d come here before… but I won’t be able to, uh, put my all into it anymore. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, treatment is, like, seventy percent mental state and optimism.”

She regarded you, and you held her gaze as a way to avoid looking at Sebastian.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she started slowly, “why did you come here, then?”

Why did you? Even if she had seen something different in your file and found a treatment plan that gave you a 50/50 shot, you probably wouldn’t have taken it.

“I don’t know. All I know is yesterday was the weirdest day I’ve ever had, and Sebastian,” you looked over at him, caught in his eyes. “Sebastian wouldn’t take no for an answer. I don’t know, I guess I thought that hearing it from you,” now you looked back to Dr. Sharpe, “would make him accept the reality. And if you had something different to say, I—” Your eyes dropped to your lap. “I guess that I also kinda hoped there was room for a miracle in my life.”

“You’ll never know if you could have had that miracle if you don’t let me run some tests.”

“You said you’d try,” Sebastian broke in quietly, speaking for the first time. When you still didn’t look at him, he reached across the distance to grab your hand. “What can it hurt, Y/N? You’re already here. Explore all of the options.”

Were you being unreasonably stubborn? This was your life. Your choice.

But maybe you could live. What if you were giving up too soon? Too easily? What if you were going too gently into that good night?

“Look, Y/N,” Sebastian kept speaking, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “Yesterday, you said you played the odds. Well, what are the odds of any of this happening? In what world would you imagine sitting next to me, your husband, in a hospital in New York City with Dr. Helen? You’ve played some odds, sure. Play these ones too.”

“Okay,” you whispered without hesitation. He was right. “I’ll get the tests. I’ll try and have a more open mind when you get the results.”

With a single nod, she said, “That’s all we can ask.”

“Are those tests always like that?” Sebastian asked when you walked out of the hospital in the early afternoon.

“Oh hell no. That many tests usually take a few days. Normally you have to get in line to schedule time in each room and sometimes the only time available for one room is the only time available for another room so you have to juggle and figure out which test you can get into sooner on another day.”

“Don’t the doctors take care of that?”

“Yeah, but I’m a hands-on person. I like to know how things work. It’s why I’m in data security. I have to know how things work so I know how to protect them. I have to know how hackers think so I know how to guard against them. Which is why I have absolutely no idea how we wound up in this mess.” Now that you were on the streets of New York, you knew that you had to watch what you said. “I research everything. I overthink everything. And I guess I let loose in Vegas a hell of a lot more than I intended to.”

He grinned and threw his arm around your shoulders to steer you through the crowds. “When you went back to your hotel room last night, did you research me?”

With a scoff, you elbowed him. “Don’t flatter yourself. I researched Dr. Helen Sharpe. If she convinces me to try another treatment plan, then I guess I’ll have to research you.”

“If I research you, what would come up?”

“Um… not much.” Your skin prickled with the thought. “Grew up in small town Wyoming, so you’d probably have to dig deep to find, like, a newspaper article saying I was on the honors role in high school, or something. I think when I was, like, three years old I had a picture in the newspaper. One of those feel-good stories about a warm summer day at the splash park. Small towns. Not much happening.” God you hoped he didn’t Google you. The articles that came up didn’t paint you in a good light.

And honestly those articles didn’t even have half the facts right. If they did, you’d probably be in jail alongside your sister.

“And now? Helen said your doctor is in Salt Lake?”

“Yeah. I went to college in Utah. Anything to get out of Wyoming, even just by an hour or two. And I got a good job, so I stuck around. I like the mountains.”

“What about Facebook? Twitter? Would I find anything on there?”

By now you’d been walking for a good five minutes with seemingly no destination in mind. Not that you minded. It had been a while since you’d done something without a purpose.

“You do know I work for a data security company, right? So, like, I’ve hidden my social media profiles from Google and basic searches. I’ve made them as private as possible.”

“Trying to hide something?”

You stopped walking and turned at his teasing. With a smirk of your own, you looked at him. “Seb, you cheated getting my last name by looking at that certificate. I’ll be damned if I give you any other secrets that easily.”

You were a few steps away before Sebastian called after you, stepping quickly to catch up. “How the hell is a last name supposed to be a secret?”

“Well, on a social security card there are only three pieces of identifying information. Your social, your first name, and your last name. You have two of the three. That’s already too much.”

His laugh felt like a victory, but then he got suddenly silent and you had no idea how to take that. “So you don’t have a middle name?”

“What?”

“If you had a middle name, you would have said there were four pieces of information on your social. But you didn’t.” His taunting, victorious grin annoyed you.

After a glare, you walked faster.

“So, Y/N no-middle-name Y/L/N. What should we do with the rest of our day?”

Immediately you wanted to insist that he not let you take over his entire day, but something told you that he wouldn’t go along with that. You wanted to insist that he let you get a hotel room, but you’d already had that discussion and knew he wouldn’t want you to waste your money when he had a perfectly good guest bedroom.

So, with a sigh, you gave in. “Something easy. I get tired quickly nowadays.”

He took that confession in stride and nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. Something easy… let’s see. Broadway? You ever been to Broadway? We can catch a show. Take the Ellis Island Ferry. Carriage ride through a park.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Look, I’ve never been here before so—”

“What? That’s insane!”

“And everything I want to do in New York kind of requires a lot of walking. Like the MET. The Museum of Natural History. Wandering around. So I’m trusting you today. You pick. Though Broadway sounds wonderful. I love musicals.”

As he processed your words and started planning, you pulled him over to a bench. Figured now was as good a time as any to answer the texts Jasmin had been sending you since you texted her about your change of plans with absolutely no explanation.

Y/N: Sorry for the sudden change of plans. I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow night. Things are super crazy right now

Almost immediately she replied.

Jasmin: This just isn’t like you. I’m worried is all

Y/N: I know. I promise I’m fine though. Swear on Lulu’s life

“Who’s Lulu?”

“Are you reading my texts over my shoulder?”

He didn’t look the least bit guilty. “I’m cheating. Trying to learn more about you.”

And you supposed that he wanted to make sure you weren’t spilling the beans anywhere. With a career like his, you’d make sure the people around you could be trusted as well.

So you gave him a little bit more. “Jasmin is my best friend. When we were in middle school, we snuck a stray cat into her bathroom and tried to keep it a secret from her parents. They found out soon enough, but kept the cat anyway. We loved that cat; Lulu.”

Jasmin: You best not have run away with some super hot guy and aren’t telling me. I’ll kick your ass

“She’s good.”

You laughed. “Yesterday, after breakfast when I was talking to her, she made a joke that was something along the lines of at least you didn’t marry your one night stand.”

“Sounds like she’s psychic.”

“Claims her aunt is, actually.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “So, what Broadway play sounds best to you?”

What do you think the results will be??

PART 6: THE DECISION