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guns-n-jovi · 2 years

Text

Starstruck

Izzy Stradlin x Fem!Reader

Request: Izzy Stradlin x actress!reader where she’s been his celebrity crush since childhood and she goes to one of their concerts with a few of her celebrity friends and meets him. Izzy’s trying to keep his cool and the guys tease him.

Notes: I feel like I once again strayed from the prompt, but I really did try my best at this! I have a lot of stuff going on right now, but hopefully, you enjoyed this, anon! Also, could you let me know somehow when you see it? I'd appreciate it!

Warnings: None

Word count: 1,872

Throughout the 1970s, I was one of the most regarded women in America. With my career rooted in acting, I starred in immensely successful action flicks, where I was often my own heroine and savior- (a notion unheard of throughout the early 70s, but I was happy to be a trailblazer.)

I’d posed for countless photographers, wearing anything from silky, lavish gowns, to a black leather jacket, and mounted atop a sharp, shiny Harley Davidson motorcycle. My name was one of the most famous in the entire world. Thousands of audiences had paid to see my movies, and my fame and success spread when I won an academy award for best actress in 1983. While winning an Oscar was one of the greatest achievements I could have ever reached, it doubled the amount of pressure put on me to continue my good streak.

But it was now 1988. In the past couple of years, the music industry had swelled to the size of the movie industry. Rock n’ roll was the most explosive new fad, and rock bands were the new pop culture gods. Motley Crue, Bon Jovi and countless others had won the hearts of the world by playing shredding rock songs and flaunting their young, good looks. But there was one band that- since the previous year- had been talked about more than any other, after the explosive success of their debut album, Appetite for Destruction: Guns N’ Roses.

Born out of Los Angeles, California, they had risen slowly from a bed of sleaziness and filth to the center of the international spotlight. Made up of five young men who were only in their very early twenties, they’d succeeded in getting everyone’s attention. The songs on their debut album soared to widespread fame, topping charts and breaking records daily. Their pretty boy looks and rogue charm had captured the attention of nearly every woman and young girl. But they were shrouded in a mysterious haze of stories- shocking stories of shadiness and bad behavior that were sometimes hard to believe. But one thing was certain. They were getting attention- both good and bad.

I reflected with a thoughtful smile on the days in my prime years when I was the center of attention like that. Mostly good attention; praise for my work. But also hesitant attention that came naturally with being a celebrity. Criticism from poisonous critics, and from people who were negative or jealous. It was the struggles of every celebrity since celebrities had become famous, so I never let it get to me.

In an odd way- a way that I was ashamed of- I felt a twinge of jealousy towards the five young men in the band. I felt strangely upstaged by them. They had been in the center of the international spotlight, when that was always a spot I had been in. While it was true that acting and music were two separate worlds, I still felt a kind of jealousy I wasn’t expecting to feel. But more than that- an itching curiosity. I had a strong desire to see for myself what this band was like. I wanted to see them for myself before I took the words of any gossiping tabloid. So I bought tickets to see a concert they were performing late one night in Hollywood.

I did not know, as I was driven away from my gated home, that the night I was embarking on would be one I would not soon forget.

The scene I stepped into instantly had been one accurately described by the press. A scene of rabid fans hurling various objects onstage. Most were roses, some were letters, others were various articles of clothing. My ears hummed with the chants, screams and applause of the crowd. The hysteria of the crowd made it hard for me to see ahead of me. The loud music and rabid crowd had shocked me as soon as the concert began (three hours after it was supposed to, if I might add, and I had almost turned to leave when they’d all five pranced onstage and never even acknowledged they’d been late by three hours.)

I’d only heard three of the songs played- these being, of course, Welcome to the Jungle, Paradise City, and Sweet Child O’ Mine. The others from that debut album had been overshadowed in the overwhelming success of that trio. But I heard many songs I liked instantly. My Michelle was my favorite, and once it was over, I wished sorely that they’d go back to it. Mr. Brownstone was a close second, (and it was not hard at all for me to figure out that it was a metaphor symbol for a substance.) Think About You was my third favorite. Once I forgot my intimidation by the size of the crowd, and the sketchy reputation of the band performing, I found I was having more fun than I thought I would. In addition, the size of the crowd made it hard for people to notice that I was there.

But, as it always does, word spread. By the end of the show, all five members of the band knew I was there. But there were advantages to my being a celebrity. I walked up, nervously, to the security guard, whose eyes widened when he saw me.

“Y/N L/N?” he gaped. “…..Oh, my gosh, it’s such an honor!”

I shook his hand, smiling.

“Nice to meet you!” I told him. “I had a great time at the concert. They’re something. They’re really something.”

The security guard chuckled. “Ma’am, you have no idea.”

My grin widened. “But I’d like to find out. Would you…..well-“

I chuckled, surprised to find myself nervous. “Would you introduce me to them, please? I’d love to meet them.”

The security guard smiled. “Of course! Anything for you, Y/N.”

He laughed. “They’re going to love this,” he said, a little nervous.

He turned and walked me backstage of the venue. Backstage smelled strongly of sweat, spilled alcohol, and cigarette smoke. The walls had been vandalized. In bloody, jagged letters was written, “GUNS N’ ROSES WAS HERE.” Something about that made me smile.

The band members were in a corner. The lead singer, Axl Rose, was loudly yelling at the tall, blonde bassist, Duff McKagan. The others were split between restraining the furious redhead and protecting Duff from his anger.

“You messed up the intro to My Michelle!” Axl was shrieking. “You completely missed one of those notes! And that’s the best part of the song!”

“No one noticed!” Duff cried.

The lead guitarist, Slash, rolled his eyes. “I’m just glad you waited till we got offstage to start flipping,” he said. “Thank God you didn’t start a war onstage.”

The security guard loudly cleared his throat. “Boys!” He called. “Is that anyway to act in front of our company, Y/N L/N?”

The boys stopped. Their eyes widened in unison.

“Y/N L/N,” one of them said, slowly.

They rushed to me. Immediately, I was showered in overwhelming compliments and praises that were stammered nervously out by the excited young men.

“You are so pretty,” said Steven Adler, the blonde drummer with smiling, blue eyes.

“I’ve seen, like, every movie of yours,” Duff added, his voice shaky.

I shook his hand, blushing and smiling. I looked nervously at Axl Rose, and then at Slash, the attractive guitarist.

“You boys put on a good show tonight,” I smiled. “I enjoyed myself quite a bit.”

Axl blushed bright red, grinning. He looked down at the ground. “Gee, Y/N. Gee…”

I winked at him. Then, I looked at Slash. “You’re good with that guitar. One of the best I’ve heard. You’ll be one of the greats someday. As far as I’m concerned, you already are.”

Slash grinned. He had a fleshy, riveted grin that spread across his dark face, under the shadow of his dark, rose-shaped curls. His infectious smile spread to me. I looked at them all with a satisfied smile, feeling and knowing that I was in the presence of four very special people. Then, I frowned. I counted them quickly- four.

“I am confused about one thing,” I said. “Weren’t there five of you?”

At that moment, as if on cue, a fifth walked backstage. I turned at the sound of his footsteps.

“Gees, guys!” he was calling. “Where were all y’all, anyway? You went off kinda early, don’t you think-”

There he was- the second guitarist of the band. Izzy Stradlin.

Izzy’s complexion was like Axl’s; snow white and completely smooth. Izzy’s face hosted elongated features that made his head appear like an oval, framed by jet black, straight hair. He had a sharp, high-arched nose and sooty shadows around his eyes. His inky hair circled and feathered around his long neck, and he had black eyes that showed no emotion nor thought. He wore black and white clothes to perfectly match his natural looks, and a flat, gray hat over his hair to shade his midnight eyes. Looking at him sent a shiver down my spine.

But as I looked at him, and I felt that pleasant shiver, I felt myself blush, and a cheeky grin begin to twitch in my face. Izzy’s face was shocked, but not wide.

“Oh, my….” his voice trailed off. “Y/N L/N?”

It felt good to hear him say my name. I liked it. I nodded respectfully towards him, but my feet were frozen. I did not walk towards him.

“Izzy Stradlin,” I acknowledged.

Izzy’s pale face blushed. He looked past my shoulder, at Duff, and he mouthed, “she knows my name!”

Duff laughed harder than he should have. “Well, go on, Izzy! Talk to her! Isn’t she the woman of your dreams?”

I blushed, loving the sound of that way more than I ordinarily would. “Oh?” I suppressed a giggle.

Izzy blushed even darker. “Duff,” he gritted his teeth. “Stop.”

“Yeah!” Slash chimed in. “Isn’t Y/N L/N the one you said you’d pick over every other woman in the world?”

Izzy stuttered a mumbling response. Enjoying this very much, I continued, “That’s nice of you, Izzy.”

“Uh….yeah,” he gulped. “Um…yeah. You’re…pretty great.”

Axl snorted. “What he means is pretty and great.”

He slung his arms haphazardly over the shoulders of Slash and Steven, leaving Duff to follow behind.

“Why don’t we just give y’all a minute,” Duff snickered. “You’re obviously very starstruck, Izzy. Would it help you feel better if we stepped out? Let y’all have your time?”

Izzy looked nervously at me. I nodded. “That’d be great.”

Izzy ran his hand over his black, sleek hair. “Y/N, it’s such a pleasure,” he finally managed. “You’ve been my favorite actress since I was twelve.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Oh, have I?” I chuckled. “Thank you, Izzy. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Izzy let himself grin- a wide grin that spread over his entire face and brought warmth to his cold color and features. I found myself smiling as well.

“So,” I linked my arm in his, as we exited backstage and out into the starry night. “Tell me about yourself.”

Also tagging: @greeneyezblackheart- the number one Izzy girl I know! 🖤

#This was not one of my better works but I promise I really did try #Hopefully it's okay #Izzy Stradlin #Guns N' Roses #80s #80s rock stars #80s band #fanfiction #writing

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weirdfanaus · 3 years

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The Notebook

Pairing: Matthew Fairchild x fem!reader Headcanon

Words: 1554

Rating: General Audiences

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Matthew has a notebook he keeps carrying around and keeps looking in, noting things in it or drawing when he thinks no one is looking.

One day you silently try to sneak by him, you see that on a page, doodles surrounding them, are verses.

You, unfortunately, don't get to read anything more than the words her eyes sparkled before he closes it suddenly.

Matthew catches you looking and turns his face to you

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

You shake your head.

He looks at you long and then he puts the leather-bound notebook inside his jacket and continues to look at you.

You don't get to see more of what is written in that book until one night when he forgets his jacket at your place.

The weather has just got warmer, summer is fastly coming by.

All the Merry Thieves and their friends come for a late brunch by your place.

You spend most of the day in the garden, playing cards, drinking and eating fruits and tarts.

The night comes faster than you have all expected and all the guests leave when the clock streaks close to eleven.

Matthew leaves with James, the cuffs of his jacket rolled, runes covering his pale skin.

He is a bit too drunk, as usual.

Later that night you clean up the living space and when you lift his red jacket, the notebook falls open on the carpet.

The same poem, now with more drawings of a woman with a big hat, flowers, mostly tulips in blue ink.

Most words are stricken off, with replacements on top or under them.

You cannot understand much of what it is written, the writing too messy for you to understand.

Leafing through the pages, you end up on various Oscar Wilde quotes:

You can never be overdressed or overeducated.

With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy.

Quotes that you think match Matthew perfectly.

More doodles of faces, eyes, splotches of green, red, black paint cover the pages.

You read some poems, but don’t seem to fully understand them.

You close the book and put it back in its place.

The next day, you meet again, give him the coat, he smiles at you and kisses your cheek in thanks.

More weeks pass by when he asks you to come to meet him in the Kensington Gardens, ready to spend a long day in the sun.

You pack a blanket, a hat, a basket of fruits, tarts and sandwiches.

You meet him by the Serpentine, under an old linden tree.

He has a blanket of his own, a small basket is by his feet.

His light pants and white shirt are cuffed, his vest thrown over the basket and he was barefoot.

He reads from a book that looks familiar to you.

You put your basket on the corner of his blanket, take your sandals off and place your hat on the wooden holder.

He raises his eyes from the words and smiles at you when you sit down.

“Hello.” His tone was playful, light.

You smile, replying the same way.

He puts his book away and moves to kiss your cheek, which makes you softly blush.

He has been into kisses recently, you don’t understand why, but you enjoy it.

He sees your big basket and nods his head in its way saying:

“What do you have there?”

“A lot of food. Amelie could not let me go without having a full meal with me. She wants me to get bigger than I am already.”

“You look amazing, mon coeur.” he replies immediately.

You move the basket in his direction.

“I see that you have your own meal prepared.”

“Well, I wanted to be the one to offer food today. But unfortunately, society has other thoughts, am I right?” a boyish smile fills his face and you fight the urge to kiss his face.

“Unfortunately.”

You watch how he brings his own basket next to yours and starts putting out food from both.

Luckily, you don’t have the exact same food.

You and your cook have picked to get things that are softer, usually eaten by you, while Matthew pulled out a box of smoked salmon and slices of bread.

He arranged the food on plates, you try to help him multiple times, but he refuses, saying that he has it handled.

You eat a little bit of everything you have decided to bring, talk about the people walking by, the mundane couples, the children screaming, sometimes even jumping in the water, probably from a dare or because they have thrown their ball in the lake.

You talk about books and you find out that he is rereading one that James has given him, A Tale of Two Cities.

“James keeps mentioning that his father is obsessed with this every time he sees me with it. And Mr Herondale praises my pick just as many times,” he states while looking at the cover.

“Love, love, love.” he sings, throws the book on his vest and turns to you.

He looks long at you, opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly stops as he has just realised something.

You watch him take the notebook out and scribble in it.

“What are you doing?” you ask lightly.

His pen moves so fast on the paper that it makes you dizzy, so you choose to look at how his hair falls on his face.

“Taking notes…” he pauses. Lifts his head, looks at the water sparkling under the sun, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “For my book.”

“You write?”

“Sometimes.” his eyes were again on the page.

“That’s amazing, Matthew. Are you writing something grand as Lucie?” you know that his book is filled with short verses.

“No… Not really, I mostly write verses.” his eyes meet yours, they are shining.

“Sometimes I do that too, though,” he confesses. “I can show you something, but you won’t understand anything, right now.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t see yourself through my eyes, Y/N.”

You feel like you have just stopped breathing.

His eyes are big, the same colours as the leaves of the linden tree over your heads, his hair is curled and messy, bright as the sun.

You stood there, mouth slightly opened and you see how Matthew goes from courageous to shy and ashamed of what he has confessed.

You realize that it is because of your slow reaction, so you calm yourself and cup his face, the skin soft and you try to assure him that you don’t hate him for what he has just said.

“How do you see me?” you softly ask, voice low.

He looks at you caught off guard.

He didn’t expect those words from you, but he doesn’t move his eyes from yours.

“I see how courageous you are, how you try to help everyone, how warm you are. You picked me as your friend and that speaks loudly to me.”

You want to ask more, but you don’t want to interrupt him.

“I see your beauty. You love and give. You have no idea how much, just having you listen to me rant helps me in ways you cannot even imagine. I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything about me…” he stops.

You know that he wants to say more.

“I want you. I want to court you, Y/N,” he tells you instead.

You haven’t expected him to tell you that, but it was something you have wanted to hear for a while too.

“I want to share a life with you. I want to wake up by your side. I want to kiss you whenever I want, without people commenting on it. I want to see you smile for the rest of my life, Y/N.”

You are speechless once again.

His eyes, you lose yourself in his eyes every time.

“I want that too, Matthew,” you whisper, not to scare him off.

The smile that breaks on his face is the biggest and most genuine you have ever seen from him.

You have never seen him that way, he seemed light, he looked so beautiful.

He kisses your cheeks, joy pulsing through both your bodies, but you cup his face again and stop him.

And you kiss him deeply.

You feel him smiling and you smile too.

He moves his hands around your middle, he draws you in, your bodies now glued.

He gives you his family’s ring after he kisses you a couple dozen times.

You keep it on your thumb because of how big it is.

The two of you lay the rest of the day under that tree. Matthew continues to read, now aloud at your request, from Will Herondale’s favourite book.

When the sun starts disappearing, you gather your things and take a stroll through the park, your hand on his arm.

You share the same carriage and he takes you home, right at your doorstep.

He kisses your cheek, in goodbye, but you move to kiss his lips.

He smiles while walking down the porch and you watch him climb in the carriage, waves his hand and he disappears.

But that night is not the last you see his great smile.

tag list: @malfoysmatrioshka @elleclairez @alebooknerd @fair-but-wilde-child

#matthew fairchild #matthew fairchild x reader #matthew x reader #matthew fairchild fanfic #matthew fairchild fanficton #the last hours #the last hours fanfiction #the last hours x reader #cassandra clare '#chain of iron #chain of gold #matthew faitchild x y/n #weirdfanaus

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

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there's no better place.

CHE ‘TAZA’ ROMERO.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ a / n: as always, don't forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

You don't start to clean the club until the last member has left, picking up empty beers, ashtrays, shot glasses and any kind of trash, before putting the chairs over the tables to sweep and mop the floor. It doesn't take you more than ten minutes, being something strange since normally you spend more than an hour cleaning everything around you. But the crew is not in the mood to celebrate anything, only to stay together to weather the storm. You have heard them talk, even if you have tried to not stick your nose in their business. You care about them though, they're your family at the end of the day.

Taking one last look to make sure everything is on point, you grab your leather jacket to wear it while turning off the lights of the club. With your hand on the knob and facing the darkness inside, you close the door and lock it up. You turn around with the clear intention to head your car until someone calls your attention. You thought all the crew was gone, but you were wrong. Taza is sitting on the stairs, head bowed down, playing with something between his ringed fingers. You can see above his left shoulder what it is. His gun.

He hasn't been the same since Riz left and his brothers are so concerned about their loss that they haven't noticed his world is falling apart since that day. Anyone, but you. Taza has always been a ray of sunshine. Laughing, telling jokes, cheering everybody up. Now he is just darkness, serious gestures, monosyllables as responses. And you have never felt more worried for anybody than you feel for him. Biting briefly your bottom lip as you keep the keys inside a pocket, you guide your steps slowly towards him. One of your hands lands on his shoulder whilst sitting down, before wrapping your arms around his left arm. Leaning to his side, you press your lips on his cheek, watching him close his eyes for an instant as Taza proffers a quiet sigh.

“You've talked to me one hundred times about that hammock you've on your porch to see the stars, but you haven't shown it to me yet”. You whisper resting your chin on his shoulder, curving your lips with a sweet smile when Che tilts his head to face you.

You squeeze fondly his arm under your grip when he comes closer to kiss your forehead, caressing with the tip of his nose where his lips have been a second before. Not saying a word, he stands up keeping his gun to safety to offer you his hand and help you to get up. But he doesn't let it go until the two of you approximate his yellow and flawless bike. Putting on the helmets, you wait for him to sit first and turn on the engine to have your place behind him. You feel his abdomen tense up when your arms surround it, until you rest your chin again on his shoulder, looking at you through the rearview mirror to make sure you're well before starting to drive.

Taza doesn't have any rush on the way to the ranch, enjoying the road for the first time in a few months. But as soon as you glance at the place on the horizon, his body gets tense again. You have indeed noticed that lately, he has been staying in the club, instead of going home, and you're starting to believe that it has something to do with Riz and the memories he built there together. And now, you're regretting your petition.

Once the bike is parked and you can jump off from it, you stand closer until Taza does the same taking your helmet next to his to leave both hangings on the handlebar. You follow him to the inside, being surprised for the fact that it's the first time you put a foot in after knowing him for more than three years and having some kind of special connection since then. Imitating him, you take off your jacket to place it on a chair before walking behind him to the back porch —with an amazing view of the desert and the dark sky full of shiny stars.

Taza gently holds your hand, claiming your attention in holy silence, pulling you closer to lie on the hammock. As he places an arm behind your neck and the other over your abdomen, you lace your fingers with his. And neither could wish to be in a better place. He has always found comfort and support in you, hearing him talk during hours about everything and nothing. He has taught you a lot of things too, as his wisdom is incalculable. But sometimes he prefers to stay in silence, just appreciating how good is your company, your closeness, your touch.

Che is watching you sideways looking fascinated at the sky as if it was something new for you. He obtains peace in your innocent smile, calm in your breathing, and for a moment he wants with all his might to ask you to stay, to be eternal with him. The world is a better place with you by his side. But he can't. Taza can't say a single word until you speak first.

“What?” You whisper giggling, turning your head at him.

“Nothing”. He replies with the same low tone, showing you a fleeting sweet smirk.

“Nothing?” You repeat with feigned incredulity, raising both eyebrows as you lie on your side without loosening the tangling of your fingers. “You know I'm here, right?”

“Yeah, I ain't that old to not see you”.

“Pendejo”. You scoff funnily palming his chest, earning a short laugh from him. “You know what I mean, Che”.

As you pout at him, the smile on his lips appears again. Shyly, in a melting gesture that races your heart and makes it jump within your chest.

“I like how you say my name”. He mumbles before you can ask what again, lying on his side too and holding you closer.

Your noses are almost touching the other, you can practically breathe the air from his lung, and you are already lost on his eyes —as a lot of times before, but never having him looking at you likewise. There you find the encouragement to take a step forward and place your lips on his. None of you moves an inch from your bodies, more than closing your eyes, and assimilating what you just have done. But it feels like Taza has been waiting an eternity to kiss you when he finally tastes you by fitting his lips with yours. Gentle and careful gestures that turn into tender smooches, while your right hand travels his chest up through his shoulder, then his neck, till reaching his shaved jawline.

“I don't feel like myself anymore”. Che confesses, still being too close to your lips almost touching them, and not able to open his eyes. “But when I'm with you, everything is different. I feel alive again”.

“Then I'm gonna stay here forever”. You murmur, placing your arms around his neck to get rid of any kind of distance between the two of you.

You feel the relief taking over his anatomy after pronouncing that promise, knowing it's exactly what he wanted and what he needed, but he didn't dare to ask you for. Tossing a leg over his, Taza sinks his face into your chest, accommodating himself under your loving embrace to focus all his senses on your heartbeat as his demons begin to fade away.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @arveeee @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #che taza romero x reader #che taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero #taza romero imagine

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taeyohonic · 3 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. 8

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: swearing

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2200

links: prev. | next [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: maybe there are too many red flags to ingore.

“what do you mean the menu changed?”, you hiss into the receiver, not caring how your colleague aches an eyebrow at your harsh tone.

“mr. jeon’s assistant called yesterday and demanded the gluten free pasta to be added instead of the duchess potatoes.” your caterer sounds as lost as you feel.

“but… the duchess is gluten free – now there’ll be a double pasta dish for entrée and sides”, you explain to the person who professionally cooks. never would you have imagined you’d be this upset about a vegetable.

“i’m doing what mr. jeon wants, ms. _____. my apologies.” yeah well, jungkook doesn’t know what he wants. his cold shoulder equals an iced crystal – your best friend has been mute even after getting back from his business trip. all the information you need as his unofficial wedding planner are thrown at you from different partners – like the caterer today or the florist last monday.

it’s seems like jungkook really wants to sabotage his own wedding to win this fight between the two of you. until now you’ve let him throw his childish temper tantrum, passively accommodating his changed decisions. but you’re drawing the line at the duchess potato.

“very well”, you say to the caterer. “i know you’re just doing your job – sorry for being rude. i can’t wait to taste… the gluten free pasta.”

the chef on the other end chuckles at your faked enthusiasm and you soon join.

“will you be there for the cocktail testing?”, he asks and you rummage through your desk, finding your planner in milliseconds.

“of course, it’s still on saturday?”, you ask, not trusting jungkook to change dates just to mess with your schedule.

after confirming the date, the two of you hang up and you start to pack up for the day. you’ll do the log entries for your students from home.

“everything okay, ___?”, your coworker jisoo questions, seeing you leave earlier than normal.

“yeah, don’t worry. i just… forgot an appointment. see you tomorrow”, you answer absently taking your prepacked lunch from the community fridge to eat later.

after taking two different trains and one bus, your self-made hummus is looking more like vomit than food as you stand in front of jungkook’s office building. but with your stomach in knots, you lose all appetite.

“miss ______, what a lovely surprise!”, the doorman greets you with an honest smile on his face. normally jungkook would send one of his town cars to collect you for your weekly lunch. to see you getting out of a bus worries the employee.

“how is the family, hanseo?”, you ask and answer his smile with one of your own.

“all well and healthy, miss! mr. jeon just got back from his meeting”, he informs you warmly and you bow in thanks.

with swift steps you move to the elevator, ready to make jungkook listen. arriving at the final floor, you greet his secretary with a short hug, your eyes already set on his closed door.

“may i go in?”, you ask mrs. yang – not really up to date on jungkook’s schedule. her knowing eyes stare right through your question.

“he’s all yours for the next hour; i’ll hold all phone calls.” you nod silently grateful for her discretion.

two loud knocks are the only forewarning jungkook gets before you barge into his office. your best friend sits at his desk, the top buttons of his shirt undone. his neatly styled hair and the reading glasses tell you that the last few hours were full of business decisions and negotiations.

his tired eyes look at you in surprise, before they cloud over with indifference.

“_____”

no ‘hey, how’ve you been the last week?’, no ‘did you manage to grab the credit card i forgot at the restaurant i stormed out of?’, no ‘i’m sorry, i canceled your favorite potato dish’.

“jungkook”, you greet him and hate yourself for how soft your voice sounds. your feet won’t allow you to move further into the room as your body stands still right next to the closing door.

a hefty silence sets around you, while the two of you muster the other. you notice the bags under his eyes – even with the expensive concealer covering the dark rings.

“_____”, your best friend says again, uncomfortable with the tension in his office.

“jungkook”, you answer, mimicking his tactic.

two estranged friends smile timidly at each other, before the CEO gets up from his seat and closes the distance. in front of you, he hesitates for a breath, but then you are in his arms. your winter coat and heavy bag create a barrier which jungkook crushes easily. he presses your body close to his chest, the suit jacket tightening around his shoulder blades.

you embrace him back, just as fiercely, and inhale his musky scent. he smells like love and you feel your eyes water.

“you’re a jerk”, you whisper against his neck, not ready to let go, but willing to work through your anger. the former idol huffs and buries his nose deeper in your hair. you can feel his breathe against your scalp and thank the lord with a silent prayer for taking a shower this morning.

“i know”, jungkook admits as he manages to squeeze you tighter at the same time.

“you’re a child”, you continue while drawing soft patterns across his shoulder blades with your fingertips.

“i know”

another silence follow – but it’s one without anger. it feels like going on vacation. nevertheless, problems need to be face, you’ve learned that from your shrink. so, with a heavy heart, you lose your embrace and try to step away from your best friend. after reluctantly holding on to you, he huffs and lets you go.

“have you eaten?”

“jungkook, we need to talk about this”, you tell him while the both of you sit on the leather couch. you have to suppress the impulse to take off your shoes, an old habit after the long nights spent in his office.

“when did you eat lunch, ____?”, he asks again and loses his suit jacket. the white button up shirt underneath looks a size too small, which troubles your heart greatly. jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, his focus remains on your eating habits.

“jungkook, i’ll eat later, promise”, you deflect and pat your bag with the hummus vegetable stew in it. your best friend doesn’t seem impressed.

“you’re upset because i haven’t told you about a close friend of mine”, you start, only to see him grimace at your wording.

“for five months”, he specifies.

“it never came up in conversation, jungkook. you… you don’t know all details of my life”, you justify yourself while mentally bowing at your backbone.

“yesterday, your mother invited me to their vow renewal, i can open a whole art gallery with your food pictures and i helped you plan a funeral for your living room plant last month”, jungkook replies astonished. “i even held the eulogy.”

yeah, fair, you’ll never forget seokjin’s oscar worthy crying scene in front of the calathea. even jimin was impressed.

“but you can’t introduce me to the guy accompanying you to my wedding?” there is a thick, and reasonable, accusation behind his words. you feel your hands sweat as you look at the tired eyes of your best friend.

“i’m afraid you won’t like him”, you offer. it’s the most logical explanation you could come up with after your phone call with taehyung. when truthfully, you are more afraid of the person yoongi will see in you face-to-face with jungkook.

but your best friend seems to buy your white lie. his face softens as he rests one hand on your knee.

“_____”, jungkook starts, “every friend of yours is a friend of mine.” you snort right into his words, not believing him for a second.

“you put my last boyfriend into jail.” the answering chuckle from him does not sound one bit apologetic.

“he was trash.” you know he’s right, still, his distrust was there before it turned out that your ex-boyfriend committed tax fraud.

“what about jisoo?”, you ask. “you’ve never warmed up to her.”

jungkook looks like he just swallowed something bitter at the name of your coworker.

“she hit on me.” his reveal shocks you.

“but she has a fiancé!”, you exclaim, only to see him roll his eyes.

“she hit on me”, he repeats unforgiving.

just… great.

“yoongi is different”, you say softly, not ready to reflect on jisoo’s audacity. it’s quite common for others to hit on jeon jungkook – he’s famous after all. but your own friend?

“let me be the judge”, jungkook demands equally soft and squeezes your knee.

“i’m not asking for your judgement, kookie”, you huff. you don’t need his approval. and yoongi sure as hell doesn’t want it.

“but”, you start again, “i think it’ll be best if you got to know him before the wedding.” you’ve thought about this a lot. it seems like the best course of action. even if you can’t picture yoongi and jungkook in the same room.

“he isn’t invited to the wedding”, your best friend scowls like a child. now you push his hand from your knee, irritated by his actions.

“he is”, you press, not willing to back down. jungkook’s eyes flash in anger.

“you can go with taehyung. he still has to make amends for fucking the DJs”, the CEO offers businesslike and moves up from the couch, like he just singlehandedly solved the problem.

“i don’t need a pity partner, jeon. i – there is a person who actually wants to go with me to your wedding”, you bite back. sure, you had to beg yoongi, but you won’t disclose that now. you’ve seen his gummy smile last week as he tried on expensive suits. he looked way too happy and handsome.

your best friend pushes some documents around his desk, deep in thoughts.

“as my best man you won’t have much time to be with him during the wedding. he will be alone in the midst of strangers. it’ll make him uncomfortable”, he tries to reason. you can’t help but roll your eyes – yoongi’s whole job description is to talk to strangers and make them feel safe. but wait…

“i’m not your best man, jungkook.” you’ve scheduled the event. seokjin’s best man speech comes right before the main course. you even sent the man some keynotes, with topics not to add to his roast.

“you got upgraded”, jungkook states with a shrug. no, no, no, no, no.

“you’ll have to rearrange the seating chart – the place next to my parents’ is now yours.”

“jungkook”, you breathe, astonished by his thoughts, “i’m not your best man.”

he tenses at your refusal, but won’t admit defeat too soon.

“you’re my best friend, so you should be my best man as well”, he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“she was against it at first – some bullshit about gender norms and how the photos will look. but, ____, not talking to you for this long made me realize, that you are way more important than seokjin.”

you can see the red flags wave behind jungkook as you feel your heart quicken at his words.

“jungkook” no longer is your voice angry. the sadness in your tone makes jungkook flinch while looking at you from across the room.

“we’ve both created very – very idolized versions of one another”, you start to explain. “maybe you think of me as important – but jungkook, there is so much we haven’t shared with each other.”

he shakes his head, willing to interrupt, but you hold your hands up in warning.

“jungkook, i lo- i like being with you a lot these last few years. but there are parts of you i’ve never met. i never shared your trainee days with you, the hardship, the success. i was only an unknown fan cheering your band on from afar.”

you take a deep breath. “but even now, you still surprise me with new sides of yourself. leaving me on an island? disinviting my plus one? that’s not the jungkook i know. and that’s sure as hell not someone i want to toast to.”

your best friend looks like you’ve just broken something dear to him and you can feel the defeat in your bones.

“seokjin is your best man, jungkook”, you end and smile at the CEO who won’t look at you anymore. before you can move closer to him, the door opens.

“mr. jeon, your next appointment is waiting.” mrs. yang sounds apologetic and looks uncomfortable between the two of you – so far apart.

jungkook nods at his secretary and she closes the door, leaving you to finish the train wreck of a conversation.

“are we no longer best friends, ____?”, he whispers as he logs into his computer. his posture screams dismissal, but you can see how tensed his shoulders are and how hard is mind is working.

you have to suppress the coo on the tip of your tongue.

“jungkook – you are my best friend. you are a person of the utmost importance to me.”

“you still like me?” i love you, you fool.

“i still like you way too much for my own good.”

he nods silently and you can see the tiniest smile spreading across his lips.

you leave without goodbye, only to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket while the elevator rushes to the lobby.

bring your plus one to this week’s movie night.

before you can send a smiley face in responds, an email form the caterer pops up.

subject: duchess potatoes are back.

_____

happy new year! i hope you all have a healthy and kind 2021! let’s make life better by wearing our masks, helping others in need and supporting those who experienced hardship during this tiering time!

i know i promised yoongi/jungkook cat fight – but the chapter got so ugly that i squeezed in this scene of reader und kookie talking about this mess. so that yoongs won’t bleed during game night.

i’d love to hear from you all, it’s been really silent in my virtual life…

all the best and the warmest of hugs from, dana

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @kimluvwoo @jinsearthh

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #idol!jungkook #ceo!jungkook #bts x reader #bts angst #bts scenarios

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tessandscottforever18 · 2 years

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Mar 27

Shawn Mendes Wears First-Ever Classic Tuxedo Red-Carpet Look at His First Oscars

"We’ve never really done the tuxedo thing," says his stylist, Tiffany Briseno of the singer's style departure, a Dolce & Gabbana double-breasted look

Stylist Tiffany Briseno has been working with Shawn Mendes for roughly six years, through music videos, press tours and album drops, but the 2022 Oscars represent a watershed moment in style for the singer-songwriter. “Except for a brief moment in the ‘Lost in Japan’ video, his fans and the rest of the world have never really seen Shawn in a look like this,” she tells The Hollywood Reporter.

At Sunday’s Oscars ceremony, Mendes is making his first-ever appearance on a red carpet in a classic tuxedo with bow-tie, a custom head-to-toe look designed by Dolce & Gabbana. The double-breasted black tuxedo is paired with a white tuxedo shirt finished with contrasting black buttons.

“We wanted a look that felt really classic and iconic and respectful of the event,” Briseno explains. “And because of Shawn’s [6-foot, 2-inch] height, he really looks great in double-breasted suits. We also thought a lot about the details, including a larger lapel with a single notch and patent-leather shoes. Overall it looks very luxe and classic; there’s definitely a 007 James Bond aesthetic.”

Briseno only had about two weeks to put together a look, from the moment it was confirmed Mendes would join Sunday’s Oscars as a presenter. “As soon as we found out, we hit the ground running to make a custom collaboration happen,” she says. “This is Shawn’s first Oscars, so we knew it had to be something that felt special. It was super tight, but brands like Dolce & Gabbana are used to that. We knew they could pull it off.”

Several brands were enlisted to submit sketches for consideration based on Briseno’s early thoughts, then she and Mendes huddled together to edit the looks down to their favorites. “We both sat down with my phone in front of him, looking through everything and talking about different references,” she says. “He really fell in love with the idea of a double-breasted suit, so we ran with that. We’ve also worked with Dolce & Gabbana before; it’s a label that works well on him. As soon as Shawn put this suit on, we knew we didn’t need to try anything else. Those Italians really know how to cut a tuxedo.”

Indeed, Dolce & Gabbana sent a tailor from their Milan headquarters for Mendes’ fitting on Thursday in Malibu. “He spoke no English, and I don’t speak any Italian, so we had to have a translator,” Briseno remembers with a laugh. “But he was a genius tailor who definitely knew what he was doing. I watched him like a hawk for fitting tips.”

Mendes finished the look with several rings from his own collection, as well as a timepiece that had not yet been finalized by Saturday afternoon. “A tuxedo needs a watch to feel complete,” she adds.

Ultimately the tuxedo is the latest in Mendes’ style evolution, Briseno notes. “When we first started working together, Shawn sort of lived in classic leather jackets, T-shirts and skinny jeans,” she says, adding that her nickname for Mendes is “Dean,” as in James Dean, because of his penchant for pieces that feel classic and iconic. “Shawn has gone through everything from a rock ‘n’ roll stage to a 1940s dapper stage. But we’ve always focused on authenticity and incrementally growing into a style. And let’s face it, the man is a natural rock star, everything looks amazing on him.”

And make no mistake, tonight is special for Briseno as well. “Honestly, Shawn is like my brother, and I’m so proud of him,” she says. “The work we’ve done together has led to this moment, and I am really excited for him. Because we’ve never really done the tuxedo thing, to do it in this context feels pretty incredible. You never forget your first Oscars.”

#shawn mendes #hollywood reporter #tiff briseno #stylist #the oscars 2022 #the oscars #L.A.

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commander-diomika · 3 years

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Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Gen Word Count: ~2000 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract, just two people trying to figure out how to keep the peace with each other and very occasionally succeeding

Summary: Part 2 is here, set several months after Part 1 in a Damascus safehouse. (here's Part One)

"There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control."

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” Wilde's eyes were shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with.

“The message doesn’t sound certain. Just a theory.” Zolf pointed out. He settled back. The couch was a threadbare number but it was comfortable enough, and this wasn’t the first evening they’d spent sitting here discussing plans and directions.

The two of them couldn’t have gotten the hell out of Cairo at a better time. Two weeks after Zolf and Wilde made their quiet exit from the Meritocrats, Aphophis disappeared, taking with him the last few loyal agents. In the ensuing chaos, Wilde pulled some strings and… appropriated significant funding for the next phase. Enough to rent a modest base of operation in Damascus, where they had been for the past few months.

Zolf wasn’t quite sure how Wilde made it all happen so smoothly. At the time he’d just thought Wilde got lucky. Though having worked together for just a few months, he was tempted to say Wilde got lucky a lot… Or perhaps he was just very good at making it seem that way.

“Ho, Wilde,” Zolf called from the kitchen, as he heard Wilde enter the townhouse.

His companion entered the adjoining sitting room, dressed almost-sensibly for the heat in a cream linen suit, a satchel slung over his shoulder.

“What you got there?” Zolf called. He had been chopping vegetables for the evening meal but seeing that Wilde looked flush with success, Zolf put the knife down and wiped off his hands as he went to join him.

His step faltered as he realised that Wilde, once again, was not alone. With him was the man Zolf couldn’t help but think of as “the interloper”.

Alfred Douglas stood just a few inches shorter than Wilde, similarly dark haired and dashing, as he followed Wilde into the sitting room and greeted Zolf with a winning smile. “Hello, Mr Smith.” Wilde had once said that he chose his friends for their good looks, and to look at Alfred, Zolf would begrudgingly agree.

Zolf had met this newcomer just a few days ago. Returning from a fruitless trip to Turkey, he was shocked to find another person at the safehouse; an old friend, Wilde said. When pressed for details, Wilde had first deflected, demurred, and then dug his heels in. It had gotten ugly.

Not wanting to repeat the fight, Zolf just nodded tightly. “Douglas.”

“Oh please, I’ve been telling you, you can call me Bosie.” Zolf, basically immune to affected charm, ignored him and repeated his question to Wilde. “What’s in the bag, Wilde?”

“Books!” Wilde replied, pointedly ignoring the pair’s less-than-warm interaction.

One by one he produced several tomes from the leather satchel with a flourish, revealing each as if waiting for applause before placing them on the low wooden table. A History of Dwarven Achievements; Svalbard, a Japanese travel guide, and one more sizeable volume. Zolf couldn’t immediately understand the title, but he could see that it was written in Dwarvish. That last one gave a small puff of dust as Wilde gently ran his fingers through the pages before adding it to the pile.

“Bosie was such a help, weren’t you dear, I would never have found that last little merchant alone. I swear we went down so many side alleys it was like a maze!” Wilde’s voice was honeyed and light again. It made Zolf feel itchy and irritable. In the months they’d been in Damascus, he’d almost gotten Wilde to just act like a normal bloody person when it was just the two of them, instead of some conversational artiste looking to make a spectacle of every interaction. Two days in the interloper’s company and he was back to the same smarmy, dunkable cad Zolf had met in London.

“The Svalbard one wasn’t exactly easy to get our hands on, either. It’s not like anyone is doing transfers from The London Library anymore.” Wilde reported as he speedily shed jacket, hat and shoes, then plopped down on the settee. Still looking overly pleased with himself, he patted the seat next to him, inviting Bosie to sit. He did so.

“How did you go with your leads?” Wilde asked, still slightly breathless from the performance he made of unveiling the books.

Zolf’s lips pursed, and he considered not answering. Even though Wilde was probably telling him everything in the long hours they spent sequestered in Wilde’s room, it still felt wrong to discuss business with Douglas here. Since he’d arrived on the scene he’d been nothing but disarming smiles and quiet interest but…

Maybe I’m just bein’ paranoid, Zolf said to himself. It was immediately followed with another thought, unbidden and unwelcome. More like bein’ jealous.

That couldn’t possibly be the case, so Zolf opened his mouth and started speaking. “I went askin’ after our initial contact with the Hephaestus lot. You know, the one that sent me on that bloody wild goose chase?” Zolf’s recent trip to Ankara had been based on that lead. He’d been looking for Garten, with no success.

“Turns out she’s not keen on explaining to me why her lead was a blumin’ fake, and the rest of ‘em have closed up ranks.” Finding something to do that didn’t involve looking at either of them, Zolf picked up Wilde’s hat off the table and hung it on the hook by the door. “Also, it looks like the whole Cult is gettin’ ready to move, if I’m honest. A lot less folks workin’ and a lot more packin’ up than I saw last I wer’ there.” He picked up Wilde’s shoes and put them by the door.

“Yes, actually, I noticed something similar at the Artemisian temples the other day,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

Zolf glared at him. Who did he think he was?

As far as Zolf was concerned, the man’s only saving grace was that his sudden reappearance in Wilde’s life made him happy. Pleasant or positive things had been in short supply, and Zolf wasn’t a monster. But Douglas had been tottering about on thin ice since the moment he arrived, and his comments were only salting the surface.

Wilde’s eyes tracked between the two of them, and with a melodramatic sigh he said, “Perhaps you ought to head off, my dear.” He threw Zolf a glance that said there, are you happy now?

“Yeh, I’ve got some things to discuss with Wilde. In private.” Zolf added, eyebrows brewing up a thunderstorm.

Bosie tilted his head, an expression of mock-hurt on his face. It was an expression Wilde made often and Zolf did his best not to explode. These two were as bad as each other and getting worse.

Wilde made an apologetic shooing motion with his hands, and Douglas did as he was bid. He gathered his hat with a reproachful look at Zolf, and gave Wilde a peck on the cheek before leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oscar.”

Wilde walked Douglas out and returned to the settee, sitting with an exasperated sigh.

It had been getting better between them, heroes with their backs against the wall that they were. It had been. For all that Wilde was insufferable when he got on his airs about “need-to-know information” and couldn’t cook and was constantly preening as though any of that even mattered… But for all the myriad of ways he got up Zolf’s nose, he was also talented. Adept at making and keeping contacts. Able to talk his way into places Zolf couldn’t even get a foot into. An incredible mind for language, information, and planning. He was useful to have around, and for that Zolf was trying his best to extend a bit of graciousness.

And for all Wilde was frustrating company, at least he was someone. Wilde had been dead right, back in Cairo. It was nice to not be alone.

A mulish expression settled on Wilde’s face. It was obvious he was getting ready to jump straight back into the argument about Douglas, but Zolf wasn’t in the mood to rehash the same angry words.

you need to trust me, Zolf

you ain’t supposed to hide things from me anymore

we’re supposed to be partners

it’s none of your business

I thought you were more careful than this

With all the tact of a glaive to the face, Zolf changed the subject.

“There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control. But it is affectin’ paladins, so it’s not any kind of disease we’ve dealt with before.”

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” As though a spell had been lifted, as soon as Douglas left the room, Wilde turned into a different person, sharp and incisive.

Zolf nodded in grim approval of Wilde’s assessment, moving to sit down next to him.

“She also reckons we start treatin’ it like something communicable. Isolatin’ when we’ve not been able to keep an eye on each other, so on.”

“Well, that’s not very practical for us, now is it. We don’t have the kind of operation Curie does, with the people and resources to run proper quarantine.” Wilde said, eyes shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with. “We split up all the time.”

“Still, a theory from one of the sharpest minds left on the planet. Worth giving credence to. Maybe we need to look at bringing a few more people on board.” Wilde paused, thoughtful. “How would you feel about working with James Barnes?”

Zolf cocked his head, unable to place the name for a moment. “Commander James Barnes?”

“The very same.”

Zolf’s jaw worked as he started several different sentences then abandoned them. “I mean, he’s in the Navy, ain’t he? Last I checked, that’s still under Meritocratic order.”

“Perhaps he won’t be with them for much longer.” Wilde said mysteriously. Zolf nearly called him on it. Fighting about the sudden inclusion of Douglas in their affairs, Zolf had pushed Wilde hard on his habit of half-truths and leading statements. He hadn’t gotten anywhere with it. He was starting to think Wilde might be just an incorrigible equivocator, and there was nothing to be done about it.

So Zolf simply grunted.

“So that’s a solid maybe on Barnes,” Wilde grinned. “Besides, we’ll be fine for the moment. I won’t go running off and recruiting anyone new, because now we’ve got Bosie.”

Zolf took a slow breath at this topic change. He gentled the first angry words that came to mind, and spoke. “Wilde… I know you trust him. I know you two have a long history. But in light of this-” Zolf tapped the transcribed Sending. “-I don’t know how I feel about you bringing him in on… everything.” It lay on the table next to the satchel.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Wilde said smoothly, grabbing the bag and reaching inside. “I managed to pick up one more thing.”

From the satchel he produced a much smaller item, a banged-up paperback with a bright cover.

“Ohhh it’s the second Hearts of Fire!” Zolf exclaimed. He knew a misdirect when he saw one but couldn’t contain himself. “Those are so hard to get!” He took the book-shaped olive branch from Wilde quickly, already opening to page one.

“I knew I shouldn’t have given it to you until you’d at least had a look at the Svalbard books,” Wilde teased.

Zolf considered Wilde over the top of the book for a long moment. Wilde wasn’t off the hook. Neither of them were. They would have to come back to this jagged mess of a conversation at some point, but for now, Zolf chose peace. Of a sort.

“Look, the quicker I’m done with it, the quicker you can have it. Don’t pretend like you haven’t read my Campbells. I’m not the one dog-earin’ the pages. I thought you were sposed to be a man of culture.”

“Oh, stop hounding me about it, Zolf,” Wilde said, picking up Dwarven Achievements and relaxing gratefully back into the couch. Zolf was already so engrossed he didn’t even groan.

#hank writes #rusty quill gaming #zoscar #zolfwilde #rqg #rqg fic #but seriously how WOULD you feel if your legacy was just ''oscar wilde's lover''#literal RIP alfred douglas #anyway hit that reblog button plz

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remywrites5 · 4 years

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For @casualmaraudering who is having a bad day. Have some artist!Remus schmoop.

***

Remus sat with his legs crossed in the center of his art studio, an unknown streak of blue paint on his cheek. He scratched his cheek with the back of his paintbrush, unsure why it was itchy to begin with. Sticking his tongue out in concentration, he smudged his thumb over one of the lines to soften it slightly.

The sounds of a motorbike pulled his attention from his canvas just as it always did at 5:15 pm when Sirius Black returned from work. Remus glanced out the slightly ajar window, his head just barely poking over the sill from his place on the floor. Sirius was whistling what appeared to be Another One Bites the Dust as he made his way up the driveway to his front door.

Feeling inspired, Remus grabbed his phone and pulled up Spotify, letting a playlist of Queen fill the room. He lost himself back in his art for a while until what sounded like hail on his window made him jump. He found a few small pebbles by his feet and went to the window to find Sirius Black standing underneath it.

Remus put his hands up the bottom of the window and yanked it upwards. Sticking his head out, he found Sirius beaming up at him from his front yard. “Care for a walk?” Sirius asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Remus blinked a few times in surprise. Never mind that Sirius Black was unfairly attractive but they had never spoken more then ten words to each other despite being neighbors for the past two years.

“Why?”

Sirius shrugged in response. “You coming or not?”

Remus considered for a moment and then spent another few moments wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Gorgeous blokes didn’t show up at your window every night for moonlit strolls.

“Be right down!”

Remus turned the music off on his phone and shoved it into his pocket. By the front door he crammed his feet into his sneakers before grabbing his wallet and keys. When he opened his front door, Sirius was standing on his front stoop waiting for him.

“Overalls?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Really?”

“Shut up,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. He stepped outside and made sure his front door was locked. “They’re comfortable and I don’t care if I get paint on them.”

Sirius walked backwards down the steps in a manner so smooth Remus would have thought it had been rehearsed, however he doubted Sirius Black was practicing on Remus’ front porch. He looked up at Remus expectantly from the few steps the separated them. Remus chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then joined Sirius on the sidewalk.

“So…” Remus said, breaking the silence as they fell into step with each other.

“So,” Sirius echoed, grinning mischievously. “Hi. I’m Sirius.”

“I know that,” Remus said, playing with one of his longer curls by his temple. He really needed to get a haircut. “Is there a point to this?”

“Does there have to be?”

“Two years of pleasant greetings and suddenly you want to go for a walk.” Remus sighed and kicked as a rock. “Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

Sirius turned and stepped in front of Remus, blocking his path. “Would you ever consider painting me?”

Remus managed to keep his jaw from dropping but it was a near thing. “If that sentence ends with like one of your French girls I will hit you.”

Sirius snorted. “I am actually French but we don’t have to go full nude on the first portrait.”

“Oh you imagine there will be many, do you?” Remus sidestepped Sirius and continued walking. It felt a bit like running away from the handsome man who had just offered to pose nude for him.

“Don’t you want to know why I want my portrait done?” Sirius asked, following after Remus.

“Probably so the portrait can grow old for you and you can stay youthful for the rest of time?” Remus quipped over his shoulder.

“You know,” Sirius said, catching up to Remus. “Oscar Wilde believed art showed more about the artist than the subject. What would you reveal, Remus?”

Remus swallowed thickly and picked up the pace of his walking. “I want a milkshake,” he said, changing the subject entirely. “Would you like a milkshake?”

“Remus!” Sirius called out, hurrying to keep up with him. “What’s the rush?”

Remus didn’t slow down until they’d reached the little diner on the corner. Remus sat down at the counter, as sitting in a booth across from Sirius felt too intimate. Sirius sat backwards on the rotating stool next to him, his elbows on the counter as he lounged back, his legs crossed at the ankles.

Remus ordered a chocolate milkshake for himself while Sirius got a strawberry one and a plate of chips.

“You’re a strange one, Remus,” Sirius said as they waited for their order.

“Am I?” Remus asked, pulling a napkin from the holder and beginning to doodle on it. Before he knew it he’d drawn Sirius’ mouth. He quickly sketched his eyes and nose so it wouldn’t be quite so weird. He always doodled when he was nervous.

“You know you’ve got paint on your cheek,” Sirius said, grinning that same wicked grin. Remus found himself pulling out another napkin so he could attempt to capture it. “And it hasn’t bothered you in the twenty minutes we’ve been together. Not once.”

“Shit,” Remus said, licking his palm and attempting to clean his cheek. “Hazard of the trade, unfortunately.”

“Let me,” Sirius said softly. He dipped a napkin into his glass of water and gently began to rub at Remus’ cheek. “May I tell you why I want my picture done now?”

Remus nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“When I was little my mother had our portraits done, it was a family tradition. Your portrait went on this wall that formed a family tree. Well when I was sixteen I came out to my parents and my mother proceeded to take my portrait off the wall and throw it into the fireplace. Symbolic gesture, right?”

“Sirius –“

“Last year my brother went into rehab and guess what? His portrait also ended up in the fire. She’s got high standards, that mother of mine, and unfortunately neither of her sons quite lived up to them. He’s getting out soon and he’s going to come stay with me until he feels like he can be on his own. I thought I would start a new tree, you know? Turn a negative into a positive. Start with my portrait and then his, if you’d be up for it. Then maybe my best friend Jamie, his wife Lily and my godson Harry. New family, new life, you know?”

“Sirius,” Remus said, wrapping his fingers around Sirius’ wrist to still his hand. He didn’t know if the blue was off his face but he didn’t care. “Fuck, of course. I’d be honored.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, his smile so bright and wide it made Remus’ heart clench. “It’s not a whim, by the way, although it might seem like it to you. I’ve been trying to gather up the courage to ask you for months.”

“Why?” Remus asked, shaking his head in confusion. “I’m not exactly intimidating.” Remus gestured with his free hand to his paint splattered overalls.

Sirius huffed out a laugh and broke eye contact. It was only at that moment Remus realized they had been staring at each other quite intently. “You know when you first moved into the neighborhood I was going to make you a cobbler. It was Jamie’s mum’s recipe and I tried so hard to get it right because it reminded me of home. But it was rubbish. I went wrong somewhere, I’m not sure where but I’m not great at baking. All that measuring, bleh.”

“You were going to make me a cobbler…” Remus said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I wanted you to feel at home,” Sirius said, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I wanted you to stay, I wanted…”

“Sirius?” Remus said softly, barely audible even to his own ears as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

“I wanted to be your home, eventually. You were so cute and fuck I’m so gay and I left it too long. It got to the point where I didn’t even know how to say hi to you without getting fucking lost in my feelings.”

Remus opened his mouth to respond but the waitress interrupted them by bringing their order. Sirius let his hand drop and quickly spun around to face the counter, his head ducked down as if embarrassed. He shoveled a handful of chips into his mouth as if he was trying to get himself to stop talking.

Remus watched him for a moment with a bemused smile on his face. Sirius Black, the unattainable gorgeous bloke that liked to cut his lawn shirtless had been…pining for Remus all this time. “So what kind of cobbler was it?”

Sirius began to choke in surprise at the question, thumping his fist against his chest. Eventually he managed to swallow, bypassing the straw to take a large gulp from his milkshake. “Blueberry.”

“Maybe you should try again,” Remus said, playing with his own straw, dipping it in and out of his milkshake.

“I did,” Sirius said grumpily. “They never came out right.”

Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing. “So there were several cobblers.”

Sirius made a funny noise in the back of his throat and then mumbled something that Remus couldn’t understand.

“What was that?”

“I said eleven!” Sirius snapped, biting a chip roughly. “I drew the line at an even dozen.”

Remus turned to the side so he could look at Sirius. He rested his cheek in his hand and just stared at him in a mix of flattered and bewildered. “You made eleven cobblers that all turned out wrong?”

Sirius shot him a look and then drained half his milkshake in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “They weren’t good enough, okay? Sure they were edible but when has that ever impressed anybody? When Mrs. Potter made them they were amazing. I never quite got to amazing.”

Remus took a chip and dunked it into his milkshake before popping it into his mouth. “What did you end up doing with eleven edible cobblers?”

“I’d take them up with me whenever I visited my brother Reg,” Sirius confessed, taking a napkin and beginning to shred it with his fingers. “Do me a favor and let me wallow here for a while alone in how pathetic I am. I’ll pay for this.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

Sirius gave Remus a wary glance. “You don’t?”

“A little misguided, perhaps,” Remus said, taking a pensive sip of his milkshake. “Maybe you just need a little help, not that I’m that good at baking myself, but two heads and all that.”

Sirius stared at him in awe. “You want to come back to my place?”

“For cobbler.” Remus said sternly, poking Sirius in the chest. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Of course,” Sirius said, slipping off his stool and going to the register to pay for them. Remus finished off his milkshake and went to the door to wait for Sirius. A few moments later, Sirius joined him, bounding over like an excited puppy. “Ready to be amazed?”

Remus considered it for a moment and then laced his fingers through Sirius’. His face broke out into a wide smile matching Sirius’ own. “I’m ready.”

#wolfstar #I write things #unprompted #casualmaraudering #fluff #neighbor au #oh my god they were neighbors #artist remus #long post #now I want a milkshake #sirius black x remus lupin #feel better love!

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Girls Just Want to Have Fun

It’s always fun jumping into a movie I know next to nothing about, and this requested review for Wes will be no exception. All I know is that Girls Just Want to Have Fun is an 80s teen romp with the worst photoshopped cover photo I’ve ever seen. It looks like Michael Scott put it together. I know it stars girls, AND I know what those girls want. That’s half your narrative battle right there. So do they achieve the fun they seek? Well...

They do! A lot of weird shit happens along the way, but yeah, fun is had and that’s all that really matters. God, 1985 was a simpler time. I mean, I know everyone was living in constant fear that the Russians were going to invade Kansas and we’d be faced with a neverending nuclear winter, but in the face of all that existential terror you also get movies where the entire pitch is “So there’s this girl (Sarah Jessica Parker) who wants to be a dancer on tv, but her parents don’t want to let her. But she does it anyway! And her partner is chosen for her and, boy, they do not see eye to eye. But then they do! And they have to practice a lot. And then they win the dance contest!”

You know some studio exec heard that and screamed at his secretary to hold his calls for the day so he could sign the contracts and then do a mountain of blow off them.

Some thoughts:

It’s so weird to see Sarah Jessica Parker without curly hair! I was never a Sex and the City fan, so my exposure to SJP is purely Hocus Pocus based.

This dance sequence over the credits is incredible. Why do we not have shows anymore that are just a large group of young attractive people dancing in sync? No host, no dialogue, just the power of dance. I was born in the wrong decade. I would have appreciated the shit out of the 80s when I was alive.

Poor Helen Hunt - she must be one of those people who always looked like she was 35, even in high school. Granted, she was 22 when this was filmed and she’s playing a teenager, but still.

Helen Hunt is wearing dinosaurs in her hair. 80s fashion was on a wavelength that I don’t think any of us living will ever see again.

Omg this rich bitch (Natalie, I guess? She’s not named for at least the first 30 min of the movie) had Claire’s closet from Clueless 10 years before the movie existed! This is already groundbreaking.

NOW SHE HAS A BUG ON HER HAT. A big plastic green grasshopper. This review is mainly going to be about the insane things Lynne (Helen Hunt) wears.

Speaking of - I’m getting big lesbian vibes from Lynne Stone and I am so here for it. The homoerotic tension when she acts like she’s gonna fight the rich bitch? Delicious. The immediate intimate connection she makes with SJP? Practically U-Hauling.

I love an 80s dance montage, and this movie promises to contain basically nothing but that tied loosely together with some nonsensical dialogue in between. This is gonna be my new favorite movie.

Ooh Nestle Quik syrup! I forgot about Nestle Quik.

Favorite line: “There is a time and a place for calypso music, young lady.”

Ohhh I see what this is gonna be - Janey (SJP) is a classically trained dancer and gymnast, and Jeff (Lee Montgomery) is more of a rough and tumble music video kinda guy from the streets. You can tell cause he’s got a motorcycle and a leather jacket. And he wears cutoff sleeves! He’s a white guy in Chicago, who could be more street than that? And they’re butting heads! How will they ever be able to make it work for the big dance contest??

How did Natalie know Janey’s phone number? She specifically said it was unlisted. Unless she remembers it from overhearing it offhand after the dance tryouts...? That’s insane, I can’t even remember what I wore yesterday let alone a 7-digit number someone shouted in a crowd.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Is she wearing a belt made out of bullets? And a Davy Crocket hat. This is galaxy brain lesbian fashion. If the costume designer for this movie didn’t win 10 Oscars...

The music director on the other hand...not sure what is up with all these weird KidzBop covers of excellent songs like “Dancing in the Street” or the titular “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” but if you’re gonna include them, you gotta spring for the originals. This is just sad.

I’ve never been at a party with an ice sculpture. I think that’s how you know you’re among the rich.

Whatever happened to Jonathan Silverman? I miss when he was the nebbishy sidekick in every 80s movie.

Who enters a party by catapulting through the damn window?? Punk does not mean that you no longer know how to use doors, sir!

Who serves a full roasted turkey at a party? Is this how rich people live? This feels like the equivalent of using Google translate to identify rich people food in another language, then translating it back to English.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now I think she has space shuttles in her hair.

Wow we got a real 1-2 punch of sexual harassment in this club. Who wrote this Tune in Tokyo gag and was like “You know what would be hilarious? If this shitty little nerd convinced this girl to raise her arms so he can just grab her boobs full on, front and center. And then she gets upset and runs away. God I’m good at this *snorts another line*”

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now it’s two globes (like, two Earths) with crab claws on them? This is a choice that I don’t understand, but I think I may just not be seeing what it is clearly. I am digging her mirror sunglasses though.

I know Janey is smart but when did she learn how to hotwire a security system? It’s not like Google or Youtube existed, and I doubt there was a library book about how to dismantle that specific system. MYTH BUSTED.

Oh god oh no I’m so gay for these Dixon sisters from Kansas City, these two gorgeous black women in tuxes and spandex leotards. They 100% should have won this dance contest.

Why did guys stop wearing crop tops? Can we bring back slutty quarterback as a fashion trend for dudes? Seriously, the costume design here is everything.

I really love Jeff and his little family - his sister and his dad are so proud of him and supportive. You never see that in dance narratives featuring guys. I like the reversal here of gendered expectations.

Did I Cry? No, but my heart was warmed at various moments.

Honestly, why can’t more narrative arcs in movies be solved via dance battle?

Lynne Fashion Alert: She’s now dressed as...Cleopatra? Wait why the fuck is there a horse here?

Oh that’s it that’s the end! Man, you can’t be mad at a tight 90 min film like this - it gets in, it gets out, bing bang boom you’re done with enough time to read before bed.

Is this a cinematic masterpiece? No. But is it good clean fun? Absolutely. Barring the brief [obligatory 80s] sexual harassment scene, there’s very little to be upset with here. Kids wanna dance, they’re told they can’t dance, they dance anyway! It’s the power of dance! You’re either into it or you’re not, but if you’re not, I ask that you search your heart and try to find one teeny tiny sliver of joy inside it. You’re gonna need to feed that joy if you wanna make it through 2021, and watching this movie is a darn good place to start.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #girls just want to have fun #sarah jessica parker #helen hunt #lee montgomery #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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goldenmazzello · 4 years

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Lay all your love on me | Part 2

(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)

Warning: Alcohol, anxiety, angst, hungover, languague, mixed feelings, flashbacks.

W/C: 5k.

Masterlist

Although you were all exhausted from your last day on set, you were going out and have some fun and celebrate. You needed this. You all needed this. So when Ben suggested to go to a new bar for some drinks all of you enthusiastically agreed, especially because you, Joe and Rami were coming back to the US tomorrow.

Now, you were at your hotel room getting ready for your last night in London. You chose a little black dress with embroidery black sequins all over it, it also had a nice cleavage that left nothing to the imagination. That was your favorite dress, you felt absolutely confident when you wore it. You put on a pair of black high heels, you were almost ready.

Suddenly, you heard a knock from the door and gave a glance to the clock that was hang on the wall. Fuck. You were late and you hadn't done your make-up yet. You weren't used to wearing a lot of make-up, you prefered having a good skincare routine but since you've had eye bags from the exhausting week on set and your skin wasn't helping due to your PMS pimples, you decided to slightly cover them.

You opened the door and Joe was standing there, wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black jeans, a leather jacket and a pair of black boots. He looked stunning.

"Wow, you look..." You both said at the same time and laughed. You moved your sight to the floor with blushy cheeks.

"Are you ready?" Joe asked while studying you with a curious expression from the door frame.

"Hmm...do we have time?" You played with your hands, nervously. "I mean, I've haven't done my make-up yet, but I promise it won't take more than 5 minutes. Please Joey." You looked at him with puppy eyes, trying to convince him. He chuckled.

Joey. You were the only person who called him like that. You thought that maybe his mother called him like this but no, you were the only one and Joe found it pleasant. He got annoyed when someone who wasn't you used that nickname.

"Okay, you are already pretty but anyway, you can do it, we have like 10 minutes." He checked his watch as he entered the room and sat on your bed.

"Thank you!" You hugged him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He could feel your scent. His heart began to beat hard like a hammer. He swallowed.

You grabbed your makeup bag which was a few inches away from the bed on a table and started to apply your red lipstick quickly. Joe was following every movement. You bent over the table to have a better look of your face in your little mirror to apply concealer and Joe couldn't help but fixate his eyes on your thighs and then, your ass. it wasn't the first time he did it, but that little dress allowed him to have a perfect view of your long legs and he couldn’t resist.

"I'm ready!" You turned around and faced him, he was silent and pretended to look at the window. "You okay?" You walked towards him and grabbed his hand.

"Y-yes, I was just...thinking about our flight" He lied. You rubbed his hand gently and sat by his side. You'll be the death of him.

"Sure? You look...tense" You said worried.

He nodded. "I'm tired but I not going to stay in bed in our last night in London." He tittered.

"Okay, let's get going!"

The bar was overcrowded, something to expect for a bar that opened two weeks ago. There were some tables and chairs lined up against the walls and others were just packed into the middle of the room. It was kinda dark, since the lights were red colored, but it was perfect, you still could see people’s faces. Music from the 70s, 80s and 90s was playing at the background.

As you sat at the table, you could notice that it was full of bottles that Ben and Gwilym had brought, since they were the first of the group to arrive.

“Well, you really want us to celebrate tonight Ben.” You raised an eyebrow while looking at them. Ben giggled.

“Of course!” He said as he grabbed a glass and poured champagne on it. “Where are Rami and Lucy?”

“Here!” They shouted from the door and walked towards the table. “What the hell...we’re only six in here. why is the the perfect amount of alcohol for the entire bar?” Lucy asked, blinking.

“Your blonde friend wants us to be shit-faced.” Replied Gwylim and took a sip of wine. Ben shrugged.

You raised your drinks and Ben began talking "Cheers for this movie and everything that will come with this!"

"Cheers for us guys!" Rami shouted.

Bohemian Rhapsody was a very promising movie. It was one of the most anticipating of the year worldwide, so maybe it will lead to awards nominations such as the Oscars and it also will give all of you more recognition. The best was yet to come.

An hour later, you’ve already drunk half of what was on the table. it was going to be a long night.

There was a tall blonde girl leaned on the bar counter, who was gazing at your table. She was having a drink with a straw that made her lips look big. Maybe, she was doing it on purpose.

“Hey, that girl is trying to get your attention.” Ben elbowed Joe and he looked at her.

Your eyes rapidly moved to Joe, waiting for his next move.

“Go and have fun.” Gwylim blinked.

“I don’t know, I don’t think she’s looking for me.” Joe commented.

Joe wasn’t interested at all, especially since you were on his thoughts all day. But maybe, if he tried to talk to other women he could keep his mind occupied for a bit. Whatsmore, he has been in a forced celibacy for the past months due to filming so it could be an opportunity.

"Are you kidding me? Joe, she's been staring at you for like the last five minutes." Gwilym said. "Go and invite her a drink, do something!"

Joe hesitated for a minute until he put his phone in his pocket and went with her.

You didn't know why, but something made you feel sick to your stomach. Why were you feeling like this for Joe? He was your friend and you should be happy for him. Did you...like him? It wasn't a secret that he was very attractive, but you never thought about him as your lover.

Your not-so-sober state was making you feel so nauseous. You were also tired from your last days of work which were stressing and hadn't been eating properly because you were busy. This wasn’t going to end well.

You stopped drinking and sighed. There was a growing unease running through your veins, you couldn't take it anymore. You rushed to the bathroom. Fortunately, you were the only one in there. You locked yourself in an individual loo and pressed your forehead against the door, breathless. You closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath, but you felt as if the sharp point of a knife was stabbing you in the chest. The feeling of your heavy pounding heart and a persistent tightness in your shoulders were taking over you. You began to count, one, two, three, four to remove the explosion in your brain that was sending your thoughts spiraling out of control. You couldn't put into words the way you were feeling.

A few minutes later, your breath was becoming normal. You stayed there, trying to recover.

You thought it wasn't going to happen anymore, or at least tonight.

On the other side of the bar, Ben noticed that you were gone. He looked for you desperately, but he couldn't find you anywhere.

He immediately went to the bar counter where Gwilym was standing there, laughing out loud, he has just moved his hand on Joe's head and disheveled him, showing off his perm. Joe wasn't happy at all but the girl just laughed and continued talking.

"Guys, I can't find (y/n) anywhere." Ben explained.

Joe's eyes widened. he apologized with the girl and looked for you. Gwilym followed him.

"Why don't we tell Lucy to go and see if she's in the bathroom? She might be there."

"It's a good idea but, where is Lucy?" Joe moved to the crowd where Rami and Lucy were rocking their bodies to some 80s love songs.

Joe explained her what happened and she went to the bathroom. Rami helped the boys.

What if someone hurt you? what if you were in danger and you couldn't ask for help? Joe couldn't stop thinking about the worst case scenario. He felt a twinge in his chest.

As Lucy entered the bathroom, she looked under each door and felt relaxed when she saw your black high heels there.

"(y/n)? (y/n), are you okay?" She knocked the door.

She sent a message to your group chat.

Lucy: I found her, she's in the bathroom. Don't worry.

"Yes, absolutely." You opened the door and she almost jumps. Your eyes were red and your mascara was running on your cheeks.

"What happened? Did someone do anything to you?" She hugged you tight and you hugged she back even thighter.

"No, no. I'm just...I don't know, I was feeling anxious but I think I'm better now." You moved to the mirror and opened the tap water. You washed your face.

"Was it for anything in particular? What were you doing when you started feeling like that?"

You explained the situation and she hugged you again. “I’m here for you, don’t worry.” She said sweetily. You smiled.

You came back and the guys sighed in relief.

"She's okay, don't bother her." Lucy warned them. Joe sat beside you and put his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" Rami asked.

"Give me that." You snatched the wine bottle off his hands.

The blonde girl showed up again. She whispered something on Joe's ear and gave him a piece of paper. Then, she blinked at him and left the bar.

"Man, what's on the paper?" Ben was dying to know about it. Joe gave it to Rami. Ben stucked out his tongue.

Rami opened it. "Ohh, what a heartbreaker you are, Mr. Mazzello." He gave it back to him. Joe held it in his hands as he read.

"I really liked your perm. If you fancy doing something after the bar, let me know 64788433"

Joe tore the paper and took a sip of wine. Ben, Rami and Gwilym's jaw dropped. You felt relieved. "What?"

"I can't believe you're wasting such an opportunity!" Ben said with a wide eyed face.

"She's not my type." He continued drinking.

He didn't feel like leaving you. He felt alarmed by your state, you were his friend and he wan’t going to leave you when you were feeling like that. Although he didn't know what happened to you, he could notice you were tense. He would do anything to make you feel better.

"Dude, you're mad. It's your last night here." Rami insisted. Joe didn't care.

"And, what about you? Did you find anyone for tonight" Gwilym asked you, mischivously.

You almost choke. "W-What?"

"You know, a one-night stand.” He moved up his eyebrows. You giggled.

"I'm not much into that, I'm more classic, you know." You confessed.

"Come here, I'm gonna find you a hot date!" Lucy begged you.

"It's okay Lu, I wanna be on my own tonight." You smiled gently.

It was 2 a.m, you were all a mess and there were like 3 more hours ahead. Oh shit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to our place tonight.” Yelled a man from the little scenario, holding a microphone. ”It’s 2 a.m and that means, It’s karaoke time!” He raised his arms and people clapped excitedly. “We invite you to come here with a partner and give us a performance! Who will be our first duo tonight?”

“Here! These pretty girls right here are going to sing first.” Ben jumped from his chair and pointed at you and Lucy, who gaped at you.

“Oh no, shut up Benjamin!” You tried to sat him back to his place but it was impossible.

“Come on girls, let’s go!" The man encourage both of you. Everybody turned their heads to your table. You swallowed.

"Are you sure?" You asked Lucy and she shrugged.

"I guess we have to do it, we have no choice." She said in a small panicky voice as the whole bar was waiting for you to go.

"Fuck, then let's do it."

You rapidly took two more shots of vodka so as not to be so conscious of what you were going to do and walked towards the scenario with her. As you got out of your chair, Joe followed your body with his eyes. He swore no one ever looked so good in a dress and it hurt him to know he couldn't have you that night.

Ben took out his phone from his pocket and started to record, maybe it would end up posted on Instagram.

"So, to who do we owe the pleasure tonight?" The man handed Lucy and you microphones.

"I'm Lucy and she's my friend (y/n)." Everybody clapped and there were some whistling. For a second, you regretted wearing that dress.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lucy and (y/n)!" He yelled, leaving the scenario.

You both moved to the little screen you had in front of you. Lucy chose Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

You took a deep breath and started singing. "Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want." You moved your head to Lucy's direction.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want." She sang and held your hand. You both started moving your hips from side to side following the rhythm of the music, trying to remember some moves from the music video.

The boys were singing and clapping from the table, totally enjoying it. You started to feel more comfortable and to enjoy it too.

"If you wanna be my lover." You both sang the last line of the song and hugged. You quickly came back with the boys while you heard clapping again.

"You girls nailed it!" Rami gave Lucy a quick peck.

"I still hate you, Ben. You better be careful, I'll kill you." You blustered annoyed. He mocked you.

"Please tell me you're going to sing with me!" Joe put his best puppy face that made it hard to deny anything.

"Yeah Joe, when pigs fly!"

Two hours later, you and Joe were on the scenario, you were totally sloshed.

"Purple rain, purple rain. I only wanted to see you underneath the purple rain." You both sang from the top of your lungs. Joe had his arm around your waist and you had yours around his neck, moving backwards and forwards, trying to dance.

"For you Ben, I'll ruin my voice for you!" Joe pointed at Ben, who was trying to hide behind Gwilym.

Joe lost his balanced and fell to the ground, but that didn't stop him for singing. Screaming.

"I only wanted to see you underneath the AHHHHHHHH PURPLE RAIN, PURPLE RAIN, UHHHHHH." He grabbed your leg like a kid.

"Okay Joey, it's enough." You burst out laughing and helped him up.

As fast as you opened your eyes, you closed them. A merciless sunbeam was squirting straight in, making the oppressive force in your head go deeper. You turned around and checked your phone, 12:30 p.m, you had to be at the airport in exactly five hours.

You couldn’t remember neither coming back to the hotel nor falling asleep. As you sat up bed with a rather unpleasant feeling, you felt a shiver down your spine, the room was cold and you were still wearing your black dress. You felt a wave of nausea and ran to the bathroom. You ended up bent over the toilet, puking your guts out. You haven’t been like this in months. The last time you were like this was last year when your ex broke up with you. When you finished puking, you struggled to lift your head up, but the head throbbing was making it impossible. You rested your head in your hands and began to rub your temples, trying to massage away the headache. It was pointless. You felt you were going to die in about five minutes.

You looked at your face in the mirror, your mascara was running on your cheeks and your red lipstick was smeared, you looked terrible. After cleaning up your face with a damp cloth, you turned on the shower and tossed your dress and your underwear. You felt really gross. The drops of water running down your body felt warm and you enjoyed it. After a long shower, you got changed into your comfiest clothes and finished packing.

While you were drinking water, your phone buzzed. Joe was calling.

“Hey, how are you?” Asked Joe with a husky voice. He might have just woken up.

“I feel like shit, I’m never drinking again.” You protested. Joe laughed.

That's what everybody says waking up with a terrible hangover and then, they drink again and repeat it over and over again.

“We both know that’s a pretty unconvincing lie.”

“Well, I’m not drinking any soon. That sounds better?”

“Absolutely.” You nodded, smiling. “Can you come to my room? I can’t move and I feel I’m about to pass out if I don’t drink water soon. Please, I’m gonna die, don’t let me die!” Joe screamed, being totally dramatic.

“You aren’t gonna die, Joey. I’m on my way.” You hang and walked towards his room. You knocked the door and Joe cursed, he had to get out of bed.

“God, I can’t even walk.” Joe said as you entered the room. He jumped back to bed. “Come here.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, walking on his direction.

“Of course, come here, I’m gonna die.” Joe pouted. You rolled your eyes and lay in bed.

You called room service and they brought you bottles of water and some snacks.

“Joe, you have to take short sips of water.”

“I’m thirsty.”

“I know but it would get worse.” You squeezed his bottle and now, his face was wet. You laughed out loud.

“You’ll regret it.” He left the bottle on the nightstand and started to tickle you.

“Please, please, please, Joe, stop or I’m gonna throw up the water, please stop” You begged between laughs. Joe stopped and you sighed in relief.

“Well, I see you aren’t feeling so bad after all.”

“Kinda, but I wanna stay here until we head to the airport.” He moved close to you.

“So do I.” You placed his head on your chest and hugged him. Joe felt he was going to die.

Never had he been this close before. He didn’t want to move because he was practicaly on your boobs. He tried to avoid any dirty thoughts but his view wasn't helping. When he felt your fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes.

Joe wished this was part of his routine. You and him, waking up together on the same bed, him, giving you kisses all over your face and body. He wanted to kiss you so bad. He liked to think that your lips were as soft as a cotton. He hoped someday he’ll find out if he was right.

"You know," said Joe, breaking the silence. "I think you've never told me, but how did you find out about Queen?" Joe questioned.

It was a rainy cold saturday afternoon. Boredom had taken over you, so you decided to sit on your computer while your mom was baking a delicious banana bread while your dad was working on a project for his job, you assumed that he had become a workaholic because no one would ever dedicate so much time to his job on a free day.

"Can you look for a song on YouTube? It's awfully noiseless in here." Your dad said stretching his back, he had been sitting for like 5 hours.

You knew that your dad liked The Rolling Stones so you clicked on Start me Up music video. When it finished, you checked on YouTube's suggestions. Queen - I Want to Break Free. You knew that Queen was a well-known British band but you've never listened to any of their songs.

"Dad, mom, do you like Queen?"

"Yeah, well, I used to listen to them a lot when I was young." Your dad told you.

"One of my favorite songs by Queen used to be I Want to Break Free." Your mom said as he took out the banana bread out of the oven. It smelled amazing.

"That's the one YouTube suggested me."

You watched the music video while eating what your mother have just cooked. What a pretty girl, you thought when a blonde schoolgirl appeared in the kitchen. A few months later, you realized it was actually Roger Taylor.

"I can't believe you thought he was actually a girl." Joe couldn't stop laughing.

"In my defense, some people in the 70s thought he was a woman."

"And then what happened?"

"Then, there wasn't a day in which I didn't listen to Queen, and nowadays it's still that way. I really love them. They helped me through difficult times and they still do.”

He smiled. “It’s crazy how every person has at least a memory of Queen in their lives. I remember that Bohemian Rhapsody was the first song I downloaded on Napster.” You interrupted him.

“Which is ilegal.”

“Shh, don’t tell Brian and Roger.” You giggled. “And then,” he continued. “When I directed Undrafted, I would drive every morning listening to Somebody to Love and it gave me good vibes for the day. It was great”

You talked for like two hours about Queen. Now, you were on Joe's chest. "What are your plans for the next days?" Joe started to play with your hair.

"I'm staying in New Jersey with my family, you know, it's been a while since I've seen them. And the other week I'm having an audition in New York for a theater play."

"Great, what is its name?"

"It's Romeo and Juliet. A classic. I really hope I'll get this, otherwise I don't know what I'll do." You sighed.

"You'll get the role, don't worry about it, you are wonderful." Joe grabbed your hand and you rubbed his.

"Thank you. And what are you up to this week? Any meeting or something?" You inquired.

"Not yet. I'm going to visit my family and some friends and of course I'll wait for you to free so we can start with our To do list in New York." He smiled sheepishly.

"I can't wait for it!"

"Hmm, I was meaning to ask it earlier but anyway, what happened last night?"

You were frozen. You tried to find the exact words to explain him you were feeling anxious and that you didn't know the reason why. He let you know that you could always count on him.

A few minutes later, Joe fell asleep, he was still holding your hand. You stared at him for like an eternity and thought about how you felt last night. You weren't sure about your feelings as something more than a friend. You loved him with all your heart, he had become someone you really cared for, you were together all the time and you knew that it would still be like that from now.

He had a peaceful look in his face that made your heart melt. You were grateful that you were going to spend a few days in your hometown where you will have enough time to clear your mind.

After a week at your parents' home, you came back to your apartment in New York and now, you were getting ready for your audition. You kept reading the script over and over again while you were on your way in the taxi.

While you were waiting in the queue to enter the theater, your phone buzzed. It was a message.

Joe: Good luck sweetie!

You were beaming from ear to ear.

Joe finished cooking one of his specialties, meatballs with spaghetti, his favorite food. His friend Aaron was about to come in any minute. It was a long time since they last reunited, especially because they were busy with their acting careers.

The doorbell rang and Joe opened the door of his house. Aaron Tveit was standing there, holding a bottle of wine and some cans of beer happily.

As they ate, they talked about their lasts projects and brought up some memories of Joe's movie, Undrafted, in which they were co-stars. When they were about to finish the delicious supper, the doorbell rang. They looked at each other.

"Is it really the doorbell?" Aaron asked, confused.

"Yes but, that's strange, I'm not expecting anyone."

Joe opened the door and his gaze flickered over your presence.

“I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow, what a lovely surprise!” His smiled disappeared when he noticed you were weeping. "What's wrong?"

“Sorry I came out of the blue but I really need you.” When you leaned over the frame of the door trying to enter his house, you saw he had a guest. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had people tonight. I can come tomorrow morning." You moved backwards.

“Don’t leave, (y/n).” He grabbed your arm. “You can join us.” You hesitated, “Please, stay.”

You entered his house and he took you to the kitchen, not before telling his friend he would be back in a minute. You sat on the counter and he stood in front of you. “Tell me, what happened?”

“The audition...” You played with the edge of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. “It was awful, they treated me so unkind...and obviously I didn’t get the role.”

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).” He embraced you in such a tender and warm way that made you feel safe immediately. He rubbed your back and whispered sweet things in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn't lie, in the days you spent away in New Jersey, Joe couldn't leave your mind. He was there, 24/7 and you couldn't stop talking about him to your family. Your mom only needed two hours to say you were having feelings for him, despite your denial.

“Forget about that.” He took you to the dining room, where his friend was with his phone. As he saw you were coming, he left it on the table and smiled.

"(y/n), he's Aaron. Aaron, she's (y/n)." Joe introduced each other. Aaron was a brown haired man with beautiful blue eyes. He seemed to be in his mid 30s, just like Joe.

You remembered seeing them on tv, he was in Gossip Girl!

"It's nice to meet you, Joe talked about you a lot!" He admitted. Joe blushed and you smiled.

Did he really talk about you with his friends?

Joe insisted on serving you a plate of food and you acepted it. An hour passed, now you felt better, Aaron was so friendly.

“I’m having an audition on friday for a musical, If you like, I’ll give you the script.” Aaron said while you were having a sip of wine.

“What is it about?”

“It’s a Broadway musical based on the movie Grease. I think you’ll like it. They are looking for someone to play Sandy Olsson."

You almost choke. “B-Broadway? Oh God. I don’t know..”

Broadway. It was a tempting proposal, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be acepted to play a role in a such an incredible musical, especially after your failed audition from today.

“Hey, why don’t you give it a try?” Suggested Joe. “You have nothing to lose. It’s a big opportunity, you should definitly go.”

“And you still have time to prepare for this.” Aaron unlocked his phone and asked for your number. “I’ve just sent you the script. Don’t worry, I can help you if you want, you can call me at any moment and I’ll try to help you. Tomorrow I’ll send you the adress and everything you need to know. And if you want, I can pick you up and we can go together.”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You smiled.

“So, that’s a yes?” Joe asked expectantly.

“Yes!”

Joe was absolutely happy for you. However, his mind was being cruel.

“Joey, are you listening to me?” You asked him. He rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry, I think I’m falling asleep. What were you saying?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure!”

He had to do something, too much love will kill him.

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x y/n #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello x oc #joe mazzello headcanon #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast #borhap #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys #joe mazzello angst #goldenmazzello

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notalwaysthevillian · 4 years

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Heart Eyes and Headlines

Summary: Remy Sanders grew up famous. His father was an actor, and his dad was a rock star. Due to this, he ends up with a bodyguard for most of his life. After a brief stint without one, Remy decides to hire himself a new bodyguard. And this one is hot as hell.

Pairings: Romantic Remile, Prinxiety; Implied Romantic Moceit

Word Count: ~2.2k

Read the other fics by the other members of @thesquirtlesquadwrites (meaning @not-so-innocent-bi-sander and @nekoabiwrites) here!

Remy Sanders grew up having a lot of nice things. Despite this, his dads had made sure he was grateful for what he had. They had been overjoyed when he’d donated his presents to the local children’s hospital when he was ten.

Well, most of the presents.

But having two famous dads wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Due to his father being an Oscar winning actor and his dad having won a few Grammys, Remy was thrust into the limelight more than he ever wanted to be.

Around the age of thirteen, the press had started trying to get close to him to get their information on his dads. It only took Remy throwing coffee at a camera once before Roman and Virgil opted to hire a bodyguard for their son.

Davy was an excellent bodyguard, and even better at lying to the press. He had a bit of a smaller stature, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take someone to the ground if he had to.

And he’d had to. A few times.

When Remy became a legal adult, his dads had sat him down, asking if he still wanted a bodyguard. Davy had met someone and was thinking about settling down, but was willing to watch over Remy for a few more years if necessary.

Remy had bid Davy adieu, but continued to keep in touch. Who wouldn’t when his husband was as sweet as can be?

The press occasionally hounded Remy, but for the most part had learned to back off. He couldn’t help but laugh when he heard a few paparazzi mention that Davy could be lurking around the corner.

His blissful bubble only lasted until his 24th birthday. He threw a big extravaganza, but managed to keep it a private party.

Somehow, someway, some press had gotten in. His party, and his drunken rants, had been broadcasted in the news cycle.

Mortified, Remy talked to his dads about a bodyguard again.

Which brought him to what he was currently doing. Sifting through various applications as he lazed on his couch.

“Let’s see…” he mumbled to himself as he flipped a paper over. “Emile Picani. 26 years old, no experience. But he did work as a therapist. Possibility.”

As he continued on with the applications, he couldn’t get the therapist out of his mind. It sure would be nice to have someone who’d listen to your problems, while also protecting you from your problems.

In the end, he ended up choosing one Mr. Emile Picani to become his bodyguard. He’d replied to the application with his acceptance, receiving a formally worded response back. They agreed to meet up at the local coffee place within the hour.

About ten minutes before he was supposed to be there, Remy grabbed his black leather jacket, calling, “I’m meeting my new bodyguard, be home soon!”

Barely hearing the goodbyes, he headed down in the elevator. Once he was in the lobby, he flipped his sunglasses on. It helped that they had a dual function - sun protection and camera protection.

Avoiding the paparazzi the best he could, and he’d gotten fairly good at it, he made his way into the back door of the coffee shop. The owners were wonderful, allowing him to use the employee entrance. He suspected it was because he tipped enough to keep this place running. But why wouldn’t he? They had fantastic coffee.

The owner, Logan, nodded at Remy as soon as he walked in. “Usual?”

“Yes please.”

Moving to sit at the agreed table, Remy sat so he could face the door. When Logan came over with his drink, he already had a fifty out. “Thanks, Lo.”

“You’re not usually here this late in the afternoon.” Logan commented as he wiped down a table nearby.

“Oh, I’m meeting my new bodyguard today.” Remy took a sip of the drink, reveling in the flavor. “This is perfect, Logan, thank you.”

“Isn’t it always?” He teased, before heading back behind the counter.

At four on the dot, the door opened. Remy’s eyes flicked to the man who’d walked in, looking him up and down immediately. This guy was hot as hell. He had to be about 6’4”, with the most muscled arms Remy had ever seen. How did someone make a Steven Universe shirt look that good?

Feeling the blush creep up his neck as the man headed in his direction, Remy quickly chugged the rest of his coffee.

“Did you need another one?” The man asked, hovering by the table. “I can grab one when I go get one for myself.”

“You don’t have to -”

Before Remy could protest further, the man grabbed the cup from his hand, giving him a smile. Remy tried not to think about the spark that had passed through their fingers when they’d brushed together as he watched the man walk up to the counter.

Once Logan had finished with the order, he shot a wink to Remy, who sank down in his seat. Why did this guy have to be so hot? It was hard enough hiding from the press in general, he couldn’t exactly walk down the street as...excited as he was.

“Here you go!” The man said, sliding the coffee across the table before holding out a hand. “Emile Picani, at your service.”

“Um, Remy Sanders, but you knew that.” Remy said, shaking Emile’s hand. It was super soft, this guy definitely used lotion. “So...I looked over your application and saw that you used to be a therapist. What changed?”

Emile took a sip of his drink. There was no way he didn’t see Remy’s eyes watching his mouth. “I stopped getting patients. For a while I had a steady clientele, but then people stopped liking my therapy style. I didn’t want to change who I was, so I figured it was time for a career change.”

“And you chose to be a bodyguard instead?”

“When I was going through my options, a friend of mine suggested it as a joke. But I thought it over and it made sense.” Emile’s eyes started to sparkle as he spoke. “I enjoy helping people in any way I can. Working out is a stress reliever for me, so I stay in great shape. And the paparazzi have always ticked me off a little, even though I’d never show it.”

Stashing his thoughts of ‘this man is perfect’, Remy leaned forward, resting elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. “You seem perfect for the job. But I am curious, are you a fan of either of my parents?”

“Oh, I’ve been following Roman’s career for years.” Emile finished off his drink. “Not in a stalker-y way, just in a generic fan way. And Virgil’s music is excellent, but it’s not really my style? My friend Remus enjoys it though.”

After talking for another hour, Remy’s phone went off.

Father: You coming home for dinner? Or did you get eaten by the press?

Rem: Be home soon!

“Are you cool with walking me back to the pent-the apartment?” Remy asked. “Obviously you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.”

“Sounds great.” Emile stood, grabbing their garbage and tossing it.

Rem: Set another place at the table.

Dad: On it

Remy lead Emile out the back of the coffee shop, before pointing down an alley. “This way.”

Almost as soon as they’d popped out of the alley, a few journalists descended on them.

“Remy! What can you tell us about Roman’s oscar nomination?”

“When is Virgil dropping his new album?”

The questions grew to a crescendo, before Emile stepped in front of Remy. His crossed arms, combined with the look on his face, made him look much more intimidating than the sweet guy Remy had just talked to for over an hour.

“Mr. Sanders is not taking any questions.” He said, his voice as cold as ice. “Please excuse us.”

Shockingly, a few of the journalists backed off. All except for Joshua, the lead reporter for Slander. While the others were distracted, he tried to move around Emile.

It didn’t go so well for him.

Before Remy could blink, Joshua was on the ground, his notebook knocked into a puddle. Emile raised an eyebrow, his hands fisted at his sides. “I said that he’s not taking any questions.”

Not giving Joshua a chance to get up, Emile nodded to Remy, who continued on down the sidewalk.

“That was incredible.” He whispered in awe when they were out of earshot.

Emile shrugged. “Part of the job, right?”

Dinner that night went swimmingly. Virgil and Roman found Emile to be an extremely polite man. When Remy told them what had happened, they’d nodded at each other, clearly approving the new bodyguard.

“I don’t know if anyone can beat Davy, but he’s a pretty close second.”

Over the next eight months, Remy really got to know Emile and vice versa. Davy hadn’t really talked much about his private life on the job, but Emile was a lot friendlier. Well, friendlier with Remy anyway. Joshua was now much less of a problem.

No, the problem now was Remy’s ever growing crush on his bodyguard.

The first time Emile leaned down to whisper in Remy’s ear, asking if he wanted to leave a party, Remy had to use all of his willpower to keep from melting on the spot. Emile hadn’t meant anything by it, but his hot breath against Remy’s ear was something Remy for sure wanted to feel again.

Whenever they went out, Emile went out of his way to open doors for Remy. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that turned Remy’s insides to goo every single time.

In addition to his good looks and stunning personality, Emile was ripped as fuck. Remy knew that he had thick arms, but when he’d walked into the penthouse gym to find Emile working out with no shirt, the noise he made was inhuman. This was followed by him darting off to his room and screaming into a pillow.

After eight months, the two of them had started to be alone more often. At first, Remy hadn’t gone out as much, unsure of how Emile would react to his usual party lifestyle. But as he’d stopped partying, he realized he really didn’t enjoy it as much as he’d used to.

So he stopped partying all together.

Instead, he and Emile would go to places Remy had never been before. Once he’d found out that Emile had used cartoons in his therapy sessions, he dragged the man to a new art exhibit that features old cartoons in new styles. Emile’s smile had been comparable to a supernova that day, rather than its usual sunniness.

But, of course, the press had started to notice that Remy and Emile were hanging out more often.

“Um, Rem?” Roman had asked one morning, hiding a smile. “Care to explain this?”

He tossed an issue of Slander on the table. Remy groaned when he saw that it was a picture of him and Emile on the cover.

The headline was even worse.

Is Remy Sanders dating his bodyguard?

“We aren’t dating.” He hissed at the magazine, wishing he had laser vision like Roman had in his latest movie. “God, I wish Joshua would knock this shit off.”

“I dunno Rem,” Virgil said as he looked over his husband’s shoulder. “It kinda looks like you’re giving him heart eyes.”

Blood rushed to Remy’s cheeks in an instant. “I - I’m not -”

Roman merely raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not? Because from what I’ve observed, you have a huge crush on him.”

Blushing even more, Remy stuffed the magazine in the trash and headed off to his room to get ready for the day.

Buried in his closet, for the first time, Remy heard Emile call his name. “In here!”

He felt Emile approach as he dug through his jackets. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was absolutely no way he didn’t see the headline.

“So, um...about what Joshua wrote.”

“God, I hate that guy.” Finally finding his favorite jacket, Remy yanked it off the hanger and pulled it on. “He should really mind his own business. So what if I have a crush on you?”

The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop. The second he realized what he’d said, he buried his face in his hands, feeling his skin burn. “I’m so sorry, we can pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Why?”

Soft hands grabbed Remy’s wrists, gently uncovering his face. Emile looked into Remy’s eyes, his own cheeks a baby pink.

“What?”

“Why pretend you didn’t say that?” Emile leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it by now, but I like you too.”

“You do?”

Emile nodded, his eyes darting down to Remy’s lips. “Mhmm.”

His heart bursting with joy, Remy surged forward, connecting their lips. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

The next day, Slander had a new headline.

Remile confirmed!

#romantic remile #romantic prinxiety #romantic moceit #sanders sides #ts sleep #remy sanders #emile picani #virgil sanders #roman sanders #kissing #physical violence

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theoneeyedwriter · 4 years

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the months as people

january: puffy jackets, warm boots, hot chocolate, reading under a blanket while it’s snowing, making snow angels, poems about the snow, cuddling up by the fireplace, fuzzy socks, late night thoughts under hundreds of blankets

february: romantic, people person, handwritten cards, boxes of chocolate, day trips to the spa, writing poems, making crafts, elaborate dates, contagious smile, confidence, lots of perfume/cologne

march: plant enthusiast, journaling, morning walks, smell of fresh cut grass, wet paint brushes, old novels, playing piano, listening to classical music,

april: jumping in puddles, dancing in the rail, rubber boots, throwing stones at a lake, brunch with friends, doodling in margins, herb gardens, listening lo-fi, drinking lemon water, knotty hair, taking shaky photos, listening to the rain against the windows

may: homemade flower arrangements, baking, strolls through parks, pink blouses, dirty converse, bullet journals, postcard collection, drinking green tea, collecting honey, pressed flowers, succulents, humming indie songs, always amiling

june: sunflower fields, jean shorts, making bracelets, bingeing tv shows, hidden candy stash, road trips, unkempt hair, carefree attitude, thrift shopped shirts, playing the guitar, singing badly, having a small group of close friends

july: walking a dog, riding a bike through town, stopping for smoothies, eating fudge, nights on the boardwalk, rollercoasters, fried foods, loud laughs, photo booth memories, bonfires on the beach, always wearing a bathing suit, messy room, playing the ukulele

august: tan lines, sun kissed cheeks, crop tops, ice cream, visiting the pier, buying souvenirs, relaxing in the pool, doesn’t do summer reading, baseball caps, night swims, smells like sunscreen, surfs, has bad grades, loud, animated

september: leather bound books, warm wood, coffee with lots of creamer, visiting second-hand book stores, blazers, reads shakespeare and oscar wilde, fantasy fiend, prefers books to movies, smells like the pages of a book, likes to study, takes cute notes

october: unfazed by horror movies, elaborate costumes, creative, sweet tooth, listens to lana del ray, binges old horror films, only has two or three close friends, smells like popcorn, always hosting movie nights, unaccomplished style, a little edgy, very sweet

november: hand knit sweaters, burning candles, big appetite, loves driving, collects photos of their adventures and friends, walking along railroad tracks, small coffee shops, scrapbooking, home-made crafts, quilts, antique furniture, has a vegetable garden

december: warm heart and smiles, welcoming hugs, giving compliments, overly decorates for holidays, watching late night tv, snuggling with their significant other, good at singing, likes cooking but can’t bake, thoughtful gifts, family oriented, has lots of friends

#january #feburary #march #april #may #june #july #august #september #october #november #december #the months as people #aesthetic #people as aesthetics #aesthetics as people #inspiration

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fang123456 · 3 years

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So glad to read your take on this.

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is0gild · 4 years

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 28

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 7,573

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Turns out getting disowned is exhausting.

Oh sure, there'd been the initial rush of "I did it! I finally stood for myself to my family!" Then came the panic of "...oh dear god, what did I just do?!" Followed swiftly by the euphoria of "I'm finally free! Really and truly free!" Plus several other feelings that were all colors of the emotion rainbow, so many in fact that it became difficult to keep track of them all. They'd coursed through my body like electricity, keeping me going long enough to return to my old bedroom, hastily pack up what little I'd brought with me, march out the front door of my parent's mansion and straight into Lea's car before he'd sped off with us.

It didn't take long however. Just a few minutes on the road and poof! All that surging energy had scattered and abandoned me, like fleeing rats off a sinking ship. I slumped into the seat, suddenly feeling empty and so very, very tired. I didn't talk and Lea didn't try to make me. Instead, he just left me alone to listen to the low music coming out the radio as I stared vacantly out the car window. I suspected he was giving me a chance to process everything that'd just happened, figuring I'd speak up when I was ready. If I was ever ready.

I tried to process it all. I really did try. But it was like a thick, silent fog had descended over my mind, making thinking difficult. The lack of sleep from the night before seemed to finally be catching up with me. It was easier to just give in to the white noise of my thoughts as I watched the landscape outside blur by, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing mile. Eventually, I dozed off.

When I slowly stirred awake later, it was to the faint smell of leather mixed with a familiar cinnamony boy scent. Peeking one groggy eyelid open, I found myself still in the car seat but with Lea's jacket folded and tucked behind my head now as some sort of makeshift pillow. The car was no longer moving and the engine was off - perhaps that was what had woken me up.

"Rise n' shine, sleepyhead!" came Lea's chipper voice as I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.

Rubbing my eyes, I glanced at where he stood next to the vehicle, one elbow propped on the top edge of my open car door as he grinned down at me. "How long was I out?" I mumbled, giving a little stretch to work out some of the kinks in my neck and back.

"Few hours," he shrugged as I noticed he was still wearing those silly heart sunglasses, only now they were perched atop his head. "You looked like you could use the Z's and I didn't wanna disturb ya, so I've just been driving in circles round Twilight Town for a while now. C'mon," he tossed his chin to one side, gesturing for me to climb out of the car.

I yawned and unbuckled my seatbelt, then felt his hand on mine as he helped me out. The sun was hanging low, making me wince and shield my eyes against it. Blinking a couple times to let my vision adjust, I then looked around and my brow furrowed as I recognized the parking lot we were in. "...the mall? Why are we here?"

"What d'ya say?" he tapped a finger lightly to my nose, his grin twitching wider. "Up for a lil adventure?"

I stared blankly at him for a few seconds. But his smile was infectious and I could feel a matching one slowly tugging at my lips. "Sure."

He retrieved his jacket, shrugging into it before slamming my door shut and locking it. Then his fingers laced through mine once more and he led me inside. I knew where he was taking me even before he turned us down the deserted wing of the mall that was under construction. It didn't take him long to pick the locked door and soon I was carefully following him up those winding, rickety old steps. As we reached the top of the clocktower and stepped onto the outer walkway, a warm breeze greeted us. I let him guide me around towards the clock face side and as we turned the corner, a tiny gasp escaped me.

By now the sun has dipped halfway below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with orange and crimson. Soft, billowing clouds painted the heavens above while a warm, golden hue had settled like a blanket over the cityscape below. It made the buildings almost seem to glow and sparkle in the twilight as if by some sort of ancient yet whimsical magic. The sight of it all was beautiful. Overwhelming. Breathtaking.

"You're right," I murmured at last, unable to take my eyes off the view. "Sunset really does make this place sing."

"Told ya," he beamed, plonking his rear down onto the ledge and letting his feet dangle off the side. "I like to come here whenever I've had a rough day that's kicked the shit outta me. It usually helps me sort out my thoughts and feelings. Centers me. Gets me in a better headspace." He patted the spot behind him in invitation and I obliged, taking a seat next to him. Then he was reaching inside his jacket and pulling out two little red lollipops. He ripped the wrapper off of one, popping it into his mouth before offering me the other one.

I quirked an eyebrow down at it. "Not Sea Salt ice cream? Isn't that sacrilege? Won't Xion and Roxas kick you out of the club?"

He smirked around the sucker and shrugged. "I won't tell if you won't. 'Sides, I know you're not the biggest fan of Sea Salt, so figured this could just as easily do in a pinch."

"...thanks," I smiled softly, taking it from him.

"Course! Now just sit back, relax, and drink in all that majesty," he stretched a hand out wide before him to indicate said majesty before leaning back, bracing himself on his palms. "I'll be here whenever you wanna talk about it. Or not. I can also be here to just chill until you're ready for me to drive you home. Point is, I'm here for you, whatever ya need."

I didn't say anything to that at first, just gazed out once more at the amazing sight below. I inhaled slowly, as if trying to breathe it all in as I watched the thin, distant smoke plume coming off the tram while it wove its journey throughout the city. My hands were in my lap, fingers idly twisting the lollipop one way then the other then back again, leaving its plastic wrap unopened.

Since waking up in the car, I hadn't really given much thought to all that had happened today. I think part of me preferred to remain blissfully content pretending none of it had occurred. That it'd all just been a dream. I knew the second that I gave it so much as even an ounce of real thought, that it'd all suddenly become so very real. I was dreading it. But it also seemed I couldn't put it off anymore.

The memories of just a few short hours earlier were beginning to creep back into my mind unbidden, refusing to be ignored any longer. They welled up in my chest painfully until finally bursting out of me in the form of a shaky but derisive huff of a laugh. "So… guess I'm no longer a Fryse, huh?"

Lea snerked, drawing one knee up to his chest while swinging the other leg. "Somehow I doubt it's that simple."

"Grandfather seemed to think it was," I sighed heavily, setting my hand down beside me on the ledge. Apparently next to Lea's, for I could feel his thumb brushing against my pinky.

"Forget him," he razzed his tongue. An impressive feat around the lollipop. "He's just a big, whiny man-baby in a grumpy old blowhard suit throwing a fit and struggling to stay relevant. We didn't exactly hear your folks singing the same tune as him, did we?"

"...they weren't exactly disagreeing with him or leaping to my defense either," I hung my head as my eyes started to prickle. I blinked the sensation away.

"Hey now," he said gently, covering my hand with his. The warmth from his palm was soothing. "If anyone knows how hard it can be to stand up to family, it's you. Betcha it ain't easy for your pops to go against his old man's wishes. 'Sides, today was a lot, not just for you but for your folks too. Give them some time to let it all sink in. Who knows, before long they could be telling Gramps to take a hike and reaching out to you to try and patch things up."

I shook my head with a wry snort. "You don't know them like I do. Even if by some miracle they realize they had no right to be so controlling and overbearing, they're too stubborn and proud to ever admit it. No, rocks will break out into song and dance before they ever speak to me again, much less admit they were wrong."

"Wanna put munny on that?" he challenged with a grin and I just rolled my eyes. "You'll see. Just you wait. But for now, the important thing is ya did it. The hard part's over and your life is your own now to do whatever you want with it."

"Suppose that's true. It feels like a weight has been lifted," I smiled as I looked out onto the sunset once more.

My heart really was feeling lighter than it had in a long time. I was free to do whatever I wanted… now if only I knew what exactly that was. But ah well, one step at a time. For now, I'd just be happy with the fact that I had a job, some friends, and was tentatively exploring the world of theater. That was enough for me at the moment. I could figure out the rest later. I had the time now and nothing holding me back. Not anymore.

I glanced at Lea out of the corner of my eye, nose wrinkling slightly in amusement. "Can I just say though that you deserve an Oscar?"

He turned his head towards me, eyes crinkling. "Do I? What for?"

"When you got all in a huff over Grandfather trying to pay you to dump me and get lost," I hummed a low laugh, shaking my head. "I have to hand it to you, even I thought you were really mad when you came barging into the room to get me."

"Oh, I was hella pissed actually."

"...you were?" Both eyebrows shot up my forehead at his nod. "But why? It's not as if we were ever really dating. Heck, we were planning on breaking up," my fingers bounced in air quotes around the two words, "in a few weeks anyway. You could have just agreed to it, taken Grandfather's munny then did as he asked, at least as far as he ever knew. He would have been none the wiser."

Lea scratched at a spot behind his ear, lollipop stick shifting as his lips pursed to one side. "Well I… I guess it just ticked me off that the asshole woulda tried to pull something like that with his own granddaughter. That if I was someone you'd really been in love with, how he woulda just gone and broken your heart like that and expected me to help him do it." His eyes narrowed on the reddening sky, "Old coot's just lucky his brittle osteoporosis bones kept me from punching the crap outta him."

I blinked at him. Then one corner of my lips tugged up. "You're sweet, you big old softie," I told him, leaning into his side and resting my head on his shoulder.

"I, uh… shucks, El, you're gonna make me blush," he chuckled. I felt his arm come up slowly to wrap around my shoulders, squeezing them in a reassuring hug. Then he cleared his throat," So… your sister and your ex, huh?"

A grimace pinched my face. Somehow, I'd almost forgotten that part. I think I'd been trying to block it out. "...yeah."

"Ouch," he summed up eloquently.

"Tell me about it." I hesitated, staring down at the sucker as it still twirled to and fro between my finger and thumb. "They got together the day after the wedding fell through. Imagine… the centerpieces had barely been carted off by the caterers before Hans was jumping my little sister. And this whole thing?" I pointed back and forth between the two of us, "You and me? All just Anna's ploy to get Mother and Father so angry with me that they'd have nothing left when they found out about her and Hans."

"What? No, that can't be right. Anna cares about ya too much to ever do something like that to you."

I frowned. "Well… she did say she honestly thought it would help me deal with Mother and Father… that that was the main reason she pushed me into it. But she also admitted that a small part of it was for her own selfish reasons." There it was again. A tiny, aching twinge in my chest. I shook my head against his shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt rub against my cheek. "I just can't believe that she'd use me like that. That she'd go through with such a ridiculous, half-baked, harebrained scheme just to try and avoid getting into a fight with our parents."

His whole body shook with a snort. "Says the girl who just went through with a ridiculous, half-baked harebrained scheme just to try and avoid getting into a fight with her parents."

...doh.

Elsa, Queen of Putting Her Foot In Her Mouth.

"Touché," I grumbled, scowling straight ahead. "To be fair, it was still Anna's harebrained scheme. I was just the fool that went along with it."

Lea laughed, "Still, my point is ya both know how difficult your folks can be, so you can probably understand a lil where she was coming from."

A sigh. "Maybe a bit. Even so, at least I never threw her under the bus like she did me. I... don't know if I can ever forgive her for this."

"Give it time," his hand gently smoothed up and down my arm. "A day or two. Let yourself cool off. When Anna comes to talk to you - and trust me, she will - just try and listen with an open mind, 'kay? I have zero doubt you two crazy kids'll work this whole mess out. Plus ya gotta keep in mind, it's all thanks to her and Hans that you got that last kick in the rear you needed to finally stand up to your snooty family and tell 'em what's what and just straight up lay down the law. That oughta score her a point or two at least, right?"

My eyebrows knit together. "I guess… by that bit of twisted logic, yes, Anna showing up with Hans was the tipping point that made me decide enough was enough. If it weren't for her, I might have never told my parents the truth or-" my eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. "Oh gosh, the truth! The whole mall- Everyone still thinks we're- That you and I are still- What are we supposed to tell them now?!"

I felt him shrug, heard his fingers scratching at his cheek. "...the truth?"

I groaned, "Ugh, wouldn't it be simpler just to say we broke up?"

"...yeah… maybe…" His voice grew quieter, more distant, with a note of… something else, but I wasn't quite sure what.

My lower lip tucked in in thought. Then, "You're probably relieved... what with this insanity finally being all over and done with. Now you can get your life back."

"I dunno," he hummed, resting his cheek atop my head as he gave my shoulders another small squeeze, thumb tracing a small circle against my arm. "Was just sorta getting used to it all. Gonna miss being your fake boyfriend."

A grin pulled at one side of my mouth. "...it was kind of fun, wasn't it? I think I'll miss being your fake girlfriend too. Almost makes me a little sad."

"Well buck up! Got just the thing to chase away those post-make-believe-relationship blues," he released me now, lightly rubbing my back as I pulled away. I watched as he was once more reaching inside his leather jacket, this time pulling out a-

"You've got to be kidding me," I deadpanned as he slipped the cartoon-lip sunglasses onto my face. I didn't even fight it. I knew it would have been a losing battle. "Just how many of these things did you steal?"

"Just the two," he smirked, flipping his heart-shades down to sit on the bridge of his nose. Lollipop finished, he flicked away the little white stick only to whip out yet another sucker to replace it. "Smoke 'em if you got 'em," he chirped, tearing the plastic off before stabbing the candy between his lips.

...well, when in Rome, I guess.

I opened mine as well and closed my mouth around it. Huh. Cinnamon. Who'da thunk?

"Atta girl," he chuckled, nudging my shoulder with his. "Rocking those sweet ass shades to boot."

I wanted to roll my eyes at him. But it would have been halfhearted at best and let's face it, the effect would've been totally lost behind the lip-glasses anyhow. Instead, a tiny laugh bubbled out of me whether I wanted it to or not.

So there we were. Sitting atop a mall clocktower, eating candy and watching the sunset through cheap, novelty sunglasses. And even though Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really had royally crashed and burned and now laid shattered in a million pieces that I still had to clean up and sort out… in that exact moment, somehow…

...somehow things didn't seem all that bad.

"Ya sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I said for what felt like the thousandth time. At Lea's dubious squint, I laughed softly, "Really."

I mean, I thought I was.

At least, I seemed to be as we made our way back down the clocktower's decrepit wooden steps. I wasn't sure exactly how long we'd stayed up there. Long enough for early night to fall and for the first stars to begin lightly dotting the sky, however much time that had taken. It'd been nice, just sitting there watching the reds fade to purples and blues. Comforting, in fact. An almost zen-like calm had fallen over me. I didn't blame Lea for being skeptical however. This was me we were talking about here. And after the day I'd had, even I was still kind of anticipating the inevitable meltdown that would totally be on brand for me and had still yet to come. Maybe it was just lurking in the shadows, lying in wait and ready to pounce when I least expected it. Or maybe it wouldn't come at all. Maybe watching the gorgeous sunset had been just the thing I needed to disperse it before it even began.

I could hope so, at least. Here's crossing my fingers!

We got to the bottom of the stairs and rejoined the mall proper. The stores were still open but it looked like closing time would soon be upon us, so while the crowd had thinned considerably by now, there were still some shoppers milling about making their last minute purchases. Just as those double doors leading outside to the parking lot came into view, Lea suddenly stopped, tapping the side of his fist into his palm.

"Almost forgot, gotta pick something up. I'll be super quick and meet ya at the car." He was about to take off but hesitated mid-turn, looking back at me with a small frown. "...you sure you're-"

"I'm okay," I insisted, huffing out a chuckle. My hand gave his shoulder a small shove, "Hurry up and go already."

However instead of going, he grinned down at me and stepped closer, his hand lifting towards my cheek. But then it froze midway, hanging there for one very long second before he hastily snatched it back to ruffle his hair instead with a weak laugh. "Heh… be back in a flash!" Then he bolted, vanishing into the throng.

I just stood there for a few seconds, staring after him as I bit my bottom lip. Pretty sure he'd been about to kiss my forehead out of habit, but had thought better of it at the last minute. We were in a weird grey area at the moment. Officially, our little dating act had come to a close. But no one at the mall knew that yet, so… were things like that still okay? At least for a little while longer? Probably not. We wouldn't want to complicate or confuse matters. He'd probably made the right call stopping himself. The smart and sensible call. We just needed to quit cold turkey.

It would be for the best.

Still, knowing that did nothing to ease the dull ache I now felt in my chest. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. I kind of wished he had given me that forehead kiss. Just one last time. Gosh, it was only now hitting me how accustomed I'd grown to all his little touches. I really was going to miss being his girlfriend, even if it had all just been for show.

Curse that boy and his stupid dating embargo!

Hugging myself with a sigh, I walked slowly out the mall exit. The night air felt good on my skin as I took my time crossing the parking lot towards Lea's car. True to his word, I wasn't waiting there long at all before I spotted him emerging from the shopping center to jog towards me with a white plastic bag in hand. He opened my door first before sliding across his hood to let himself in on the driver side.

"No peeking now," he winked at me as he plopped down into his seat, handing the bag to me.

I blinked down at it as I held it between my hands. It was knotted tightly at the top, making sneaking a peek not really an option anyway. There was no logo on the bag, nothing to identify where it'd come from, nor was it see-through. The only thing I could determine was it felt box-shaped inside. Arching an eyebrow, I held it up to my ear with a little shake.

Snerking, Lea's grip closed around my wrist, forcing my hands still. "None of that either."

My eyelids drooped at him but I relented, settling the bag into my lap and buckling myself in. Lea did the same before turning the key in the ignition, backing us out of the parking spot and hitting the road.

A few minutes later found me unlocking the door to my apartment and stepping inside with a, "Hello? Anyone home?" My call was greeted with silence from the totally dark room inside. Frowning, I flicked on the switch and as everything lit up, I noticed the door to my roomies' bedroom open and black inside. Nope, not in there either.

"Huh. Wonder where they got to," Lea mused from where he stood in the doorway behind me, toting my luggage he'd so gallantly volunteered to carry up for me.

"Their car wasn't in its parking space," I pointed out as I made room for him, moving towards the dining table to set the mystery bag down on it. "Figured Riku might just be making an emergency baby cravings run for Rayne and that we'd at least find her up here still… maybe they went to a movie?" I guessed, pulling out my phone to see if I'd missed any texts from either of them. Unfortunately, that's when I discovered the battery had died. Which made sense now that I thought about it. It had been running unplugged since the crack of dawn when I'd used it to pull up every variation of the scotcheroo recipe known to humankind.

Setting my bags down next to a kitchen chair, one of his hands went to his hip while the other rubbed the back of his head. "Well damn. Was hoping they'd be around to feed ya."

"Feed me?" I echoed, a crease forming between my eyebrows as I turned to face him, leaning back against the backrest of the couch.

He snorted at me from across the dining table. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you haven't had a bite to eat all day, missy."

"Not true," I folded my arms under my chest and looked away with a tiny scoff. "I'll have you know I filled up on scotcheroo batter all morning."

"Sure, cuz that's healthy," his eyes narrowed over his grin. "You didn't have anything at the party last night either. Maybe I should order you some takeout," he muttered as he pulled out his phone and swiped to unlock his screen.

I looked up towards the ceiling with a sigh and a shake of my head. "You don't have to take care of me, you know. I said I was okay."

"You also said you don't know how to cook. I can't leave ya to fend for yourself and starve," he said distractedly, frowning down at his phone while his thumb flicked across his screen a few times. Probably scrolling through whatever food options were still open at this hour.

"I wouldn't starve, I do know how to use a microwave," I countered, hand idly reaching for my braid. Except… no braid. That's right, it was still up in that haphazard bun. A rather uncomfortable, haphazard bun, I might add. I pulled it free, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders as my fingers shook it out. Ah, so much better. "Rayne's always leaving leftovers in the fridge for me to heat up."

"Ya sure? Really, I don't mind making a quick food run for y-" he glanced up from the screen to me just as his fingers seemed to have a malfunction and dropped his phone. He gave a tiny yelp and fumbled with it for a second before catching it firmly in hand once again, breathing a soft whew!

I arched an eyebrow with a snerk. "You doing alright there?"

"Yeah, uh… yeah! These things are slippery lil bastards, huh?" he waggled the phone in the air with a feeble chuckle, his face reddening from what I guessed would be embarrassment over his little bout of clumsiness. Pocketing it again, he took a step back towards the front door as he crossed his arms, wedging his hands into his armpits. "Well if ya think you've got the food situation covered, I'll probably just be headin' out then."

I frowned, pushing myself up off the sofa backrest. "You're leaving?" I'd been under the impression that he was going to stick around at least for a little while longer. The company would have been welcome, especially with Rayne and Riku not home.

He ambled another step back, looking down as he scratched the tip of his nose. "Yup, got a lotta… homework. Yeah! Tons of it. Mountains of it back at my place just... calling my name, heh! So, ya know… better get to it!"

"Oh… yes, of course," I mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Obviously he had schoolwork to get back to. He'd had no time to do it all weekend thanks to me, so he was probably looking at a heavy backlog. I'd taken up too much of his time already burdening him with my problems. It was time to let him go. Taking a deep breath, I put on a brave front and forced a smile. "Have a good night. And thank you for… well, for everything. It… All of it has meant the world to me."

He hesitated for a few seconds, frowning but expression otherwise unreadable. Then he dragged his hand across his face with a tired-sounding laugh. "Don't mention it. Just… do me a favor? Get something substantial in your stomach before breaking into these," he approached the table once more, retrieving the little white bag and holding it up. "Til then, we'll just tuck them away in here so they don't melt," he said, moving towards the fridge.

Melt? Huh. Come to think of it, it had slightly been cold to the touch, but I'd hardly noticed it at the time. My head tipped to one side, "...do I get to know what they are now?"

"Guess it can't hurt to let the cat outta the bag at this point," he opened the freezer door, placing it inside before shooting me a grin. "Do the words Frozen Heart mean anything to you?"

I stiffened. "...as in the ice cream?"

"Yup!" Lea beamed now, closing the door again and propping his shoulder against it. "Whole pack of 'em! That's your fave, right?"

Blinking a couple times, I nodded slowly. I could feel it. This… weird, funny feeling in my chest. "How… When did you figure it out?"

He gave a half-shrug. "Told ya, El. Gotta gift. Knew it since day one, actually. Just kept the lil guessing game up cuz it gave me an excuse to talk to ya all the time and hopefully bring you a laugh. But figured you could use it after the day you've had. Just what the doc ordered, chocked fulla all the stuff you like - mint chocolate chip with a full strawberry in the middle, or the 'heart' at the frozen center, all coated in crunchy, crystallize sugar shell, aka the ic-"

I don't know how it happened. One second, I was just standing there with the space of the whole kitchen between him and me. The next, I'd closed the distance somehow and was colliding into his chest, forcing a small surprised oof out of him as my arms wrapped around his waist, hanging on for dear life. I felt his whole body tense with a confused, "El?"

"I'm not," I muffled into his shirt.

"...you're not…?"

"I'm not okay!" I looked up at him now, not letting go. My calm had cracked and feeling Lea's arms closing around me only served to shatter it completely. Every inch of me felt like an exposed nerve as all those emotions came crashing painfully in now. "I'm not! Nothing is right! Nothing… nothing except for you! You, with your warmth and your smiles and your ice cream and… and your silly nicknames and ridiculous sunglasses and your lizard and your sappy movies and your college course catalogues and… and…"

I didn't even know what I was trying to say anymore, so I seriously doubted Lea did either. He didn't seem to mind however, his hand with a slight tremor to it coming up to brush along my cheek, sweep a few pale strands behind my ear, slowly stroke down the full length of my hair. He just nodded and let me go on, his gaze softening as he rested his forehead against mine.

"...and everyone else is just so… so… I mean, Grandfather with his birthday party of judgement! And Mother! Mother and her sneaky lullaby, using the nose trick against me! The nose trick! That thing is sacred! But no, it was all just so she could find goth contraband for Aunt Yelena to throw in my face! And Hans! Hans, with his stupid sideburns! His stupid, sister-groping sideburns! And Anna! I still can't believe she… that she'd… I mean, I made her scotcheroos! Scotcheroos! Well, at least I tried to make them, but still, that should count for something, right?! And-" I felt his thumb wiping away something wet at the corner of my eye. Tears. I hadn't even known they were there. With a tiny jolt, I gave a weak laugh, "And I'm a total babbling mess! Sorry, I… I just need to not be thinking about this right now. Distract me, please. Anything to get my mind off of-"

And then he was kissing me.

I lost all sense of my surroundings as it all just seemed to fade away, no longer important. Every last thought in my head was obliterated. I could no longer tell left from right, heads from tails… nothing. I knew nothing except the warm caress of his lips against mine. Nothing except his scent, so familiar and yet in this moment, suddenly somehow new and intoxicating. My knees buckled but his arm wrapped around my waist, catching me and trapping me against him. His other hand had tangled itself in my hair as my fingers slid up his chest, clutching his shirt for support. I was dizzy and lightheaded and giddy all at once, my world completely turned upside down and-

Oh.

Oh wow…

...so that's what this is supposed to feel like.

All too soon Lea broke it off, drawing his head back slightly with a soft, shaky breath that I didn't so much hear as felt against my lips. He dragged his gaze from where it lingered on my mouth up to look into my eyes, his own now hooded and dark as they searched mine. Still trying to piece my scrambled brain back together, I struggled to find words and the only ones I could come up with were a breathy, "...not… quite the distraction I had in mind. I was thinking something... more along the lines of a movie?"

His eyes widened and his muscles went rigid. Then in the blink of an eye, he'd released me and backed away several steps, shaking his head as his hands raked through his crimson spikes. "Shit. Fuck! I shouldn't have done that. I had no right to- Crap, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, El! God fucking damn it, what the hell is the matter with me? I'm so stupid! I never shoulda-"

I abruptly threw myself at him again, arms hugging his neck and pulling his head down as my lips found his once more. He staggered with a sharp intake through his nose, his whole body going stock still. My heart raced as I molded against him, sinking into his pleasant body heat.

Slowly, his mouth responded as his trembling hands reached for me, trailing down my sides, exploring the curve of my waist before coming to rest on my hips, gripping them tightly as he tugged me more firmly against him. My fingers toyed with the hairs at the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft groan from him as his kiss became more fervid, filled with such… such… raw, unbridled need. Abruptly, he was pushing me up against the fridge, pinning my body between it and him.

Something fell with a clatter. A magnet? I didn't really know. Nor did I really care. But the sound was enough to snap Lea back to his senses as he pulled away with a gasp and suddenly held me at arms length. "No! This isn't right! You're vulnerable right now, I shouldn't be- Shit, I don't want you to think I-" He released a frustrated snarl, pressing a fist to his mouth as he backed further away, angrily pacing now. Then, "I should go."

He turned, hastily making his way towards the front door. Halfway there however, he hesitated, steps faltering as he glanced back towards me. He swallowed hard, something in his eyes telling me his flimsy resolve was this close to breaking. "...I need to go," he repeated, voice hoarse yet determined now as he pushed forward, reaching the door and letting himself out, slamming it shut behind him.

I was still propped up against the fridge, barely standing. The room was quiet except for my soft pants to catch my breath and the booming of my rapid pulse in my ears. My face was hot and I could still feel the sweet ghost of his lips on mine. Feel my whole body buzzing from his touch.

...he was right. Goddamn him, he was right. Now wasn't the time for this… whatever this was. I should go to bed. I should rest up and approach this with a clearer, more rational head on my shoulders tomorrow. He'd made the right choice. The responsible choice. If we'd kept carrying on like that, it would have been a mistake and…

...and so what?

So what if it was a mistake? It was my mistake to make! That I wanted to make. Besides, I didn't think it actually was a mistake, not really. It's not like this was just some spur of the moment attempt to hide from my pain within his physical comfort. This… this was something I'd be wanting for some time. And so now, what… I was just supposed to put it on pause and wait? Just because of something so insignificant as… bad timing?

To hell with that.

I'd been pretending. This whole time, I'd been pretending. And no, I didn't just mean the fake relationship to fool my parents. I'd been fooling myself. Tricking myself into believing this was just a crush when it was really… I don't even know, but it was so much more than just some simple crush! I'd been pretending my feelings were trivial, pretending that… that I couldn't see those same feelings in Lea when really I'd known. I'd known all this time, but I'd been too afraid to face them. To face him.

I was scared of everything. Always stressing and second guessing myself and overthinking things. But not this. I wasn't scared of this. Not anymore. In that moment, I'd never been more sure of anything in my life and I-

I had to stop him from leaving.

I pulled out my phone, almost dropped it but caught in time, then pressed the power button.

...nope, still dead.

Right. I tossed it onto the table as I ran past, rushing for the door. Maybe he hadn't made it to his car yet. If I hurried, I could hopefully still catch him. My hand closed around the doorknob, yanking it open and-

-jumping backwards with a tiny yelp to avoid getting crushed as Lea suddenly came falling through it, his back crashing flat against the floor at my feet. He hissed in pain, wincing up at me.

"Are you okay? What..." my brow furrowed as I looked down at him, then to my door, then back. "...were you just… leaning back against the door?"

He hopped up to his feet, laughing self-consciously as he dragged a hand along the back of his neck. "Yeah! Sorry! Just… needed a sec to, er… to get my head on straight." He inched back a step towards the hallway outside. "Right, so uh…" Another step back. "I'm gonna..." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder with a click of his tongue, "...gonna get going now."

As he began to turn away however, I grabbed his hand in both of mine. He froze, looking down at where my fingers wrapped around his. Then up at me, confusion in his eyes.

This whole time, I'd been pretending. But now…

"...I don't want to pretend anymore," I told him quietly, stepping closer and gazing up the few inches that separated us. Recalling something he'd once told me, I added, "I… wish we were real too."

Lea sucked in a low, shuddering breath, hesitating for only a heartbeat more. Then a soft, "Oh thank god," came tumbling from his lips as he grabbed my face with both hands to kiss me again, pouring his entire being into it. Kicking the door shut behind him and still locked in our embrace, he backed me further and further into the room until my legs hit the backrest of the couch and we both went toppling over it, my back hitting the cushions with him on top of me.

Abruptly, he pulled his lips off of mine, but only long enough for him to sit up on his knees so he could jerk off his jacket and throw it somewhere. Then he came back down, his hands finding mine, weaving our fingers together to either side of my head as his nose brushed against mine. His mouth stopped just short of my own however and I could taste the hint of his breath as his eyes crinkled and he smiled tenderly at me. Oh gosh, there was that dimple of his again. That dimple was straight up murder. My heart spasmed and I bit back a grin myself. Then he was kissing me.

It was soft as slow at first, as if to savor it. Then his tongue was lightly grazing along my lips and the kiss deepened. It came as no surprise that he tasted like cinnamon - I probably did too at the moment. However, the flavor was way more enticing on his tongue than it could ever hope to be just coming from some candy. His lips were growing more urgent, more demanding. Fire. It felt like I was on fire. It felt like my insides were melting to mush.

He was gently pressing his weight down into me, his hand moving to hook under my knee and tug it up, wrapping my leg around his waist. Now free, my own hand wound itself into his hair again before trailing down his neck and further, feeling the hard planes of his back through the material of his shirt, digging my nails in.

Breaking our lips apart, Lea now traced hungry kisses along my jawline and down my neck until he found my pulse point. He swirled his tongue against it, causing my body to react on its own and arch my back up into him. His body eagerly pushed back as his teeth began to nibble at the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. A hum of a sigh escaped me and he answered with a low growl deep in his throat, suddenly biting down hard.

My neck burned deliciously and I made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan. I'd never, ever made a noise like that before in my life. I might have been embarrassed if I had had half a mind to. Instead, I was too lost in the pleasure as he sucked on the now tender skin before chuckling, slowly trailing his lips just a bit further up my neck and lightly nipping at a fresh spot.

Oh dear lord, he was going to do it again.

I barely scraped together enough sense to breathe, "Lea, wait."

His whole body tensed as he went very still, his breath heavy and hot against my throat. Then all of a sudden he was pulling away, sitting up and quickly shifting to the opposite end of the couch from me. "You're right," his voice was husky, his face flushed as he hunched forward, elbow propping on his knee as he brought his hand up in an attempt to hide his tiny, guilty scowl. "You're right. Fuck, I was moving too fast. Sorry, I… I didn't mean to-"

"No," I said quickly, scooting closer to him. "That's… not what I meant. I just… I'm not sure when they," I glanced towards my roomies' empty bedroom, "will be home. We wouldn't want them to find us out here, er..." I cleared my throat, my cheeks doing the impossible and blushing even harder than they already were. I paused, trying to compose myself and gather my scrambled thoughts, absently licking my lips as I did so. He went very still, half-lidded eyes now very intently focused on my mouth. My chest fluttered under the intensity of his gaze and I cleared my throat again, "What I'm trying to say is that… maybe we should…"

Ugh, I was too flustered to say it.

Flustered, but not nervous. Or anxious or scared or awkward or… This wasn't making me feel any of the things I normally would've expected myself to feel in this situation. No, this…

This felt right.

This is something I wanted. Really, really wanted. I could feel it, deep down in my heart. And for once, I wanted to listen to what my heart was telling me.

And right now it was telling me to kiss him.

So I did. I slowly reached a hand up, softly tracing my fingers over his jawline before clasping at the nape of his neck and gently tugging his head down so I could press my lips to his again. He inhaled, long and slow, his warm hand cupping my cheek.

He seemed reluctant to end the kiss, his mouth following mine when I finally pulled away. But then I stood up and faced him, taking his hands in mine and drawing him to his feet as well. Smiling shyly up at him, I began pulling him towards the door to my room and as if in a trance, he followed. I led him inside, the door quietly shutting behind us.

Author's Note: Sooooo... pretty sure they know they like each other now, what do ya'll think? :P Oh gosh, writing and sharing this chapter all but made me burst into flames *blushing intensifies* lol! I tell ya, for someone who starts so many fics where romance is one of the major themes, it is VERY rare that I actually get to The Big Kiss (TM) scene, so this just had me squirming the whole time xD Lea, that dear boy, he tried so hard to be the responsible one, he really did, but a guy only has so much willpower! And I know, things weren't really talked out this chapter, but don't worry, a lil discussion is on the horizon xD Also, does everyone remember something Elsa said to Lea way, waaaay back in chapter 15 during their car ride up to her old condo? Something small but SUPER relevant here... xD On a different note, we finally know it! Elsa's fave ice cream: Frozen Heart, oooOOOooOOoo fancy! THIS one is not named after a keyblade - I really wanted to of course name it after Arendelle world's keyblade in KH3, but let's face it… Crystal Snow was kinda a bland name! Frozen Heart would have been WAY better, not to mention a SUPER obvious choice for a keyblade name so I dunno why the design team didn't go with that! Anyway, its Ice Palace menu listing might look a lil something like: "Blue mint chocolate chip with silver sprinkles, coated in an icy, crystallized sugar shell on the outside and a strawberry slice that can be found buried deep within its chilly center. Will you be the one to melt this frozen heart?" …or something equally cheesy xD Anyhoo, heads up guys, if you hadn't guessed, we're now entering the homestretch of this story! Figured that'd be okay to tell ya, since if this were a paperback that you could physically hold in your hands, you'd be able to tell when there were only a few more chapters left in that case too xD But I have some good news waiting for ya'll at the end of this story's final chapter, so hopefully that gives ya something to look forward to!

Next time… oh gosh, just what does the future hold for these two crazy lovebirds? Once the sea of raging hormones has ebbed, what will be left? Are these two finally gonna get together for realsies? Or will this decision they made in the heat of the moment be seen as a mistake? And what about all of Elsa's fam drama? Did she really manage to leave it all behind or will it rear its ugly head again? Do we REALLY believe Lea when he says he only stole two of the novelty glasses? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

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Hell’s Bells || Oscar and Kaden

TIMING: Before dinner with Regan and the scream LOCATION: The Silver Bullet PARTIES: @forfuchssake and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Just a normal night at the Bullet with some friends

It’d been entirely too long since he’d gotten to spend some good old fashioned quality time with his nephew and Oscar was more than ready for Kaden to show him this hunter bar. There was something to be said about the sense of community and comradery that all hunters seemed to share. It didn’t matter if it was a warden, slayer, or a fellow beast hunter-- that connection stood. They all had a duty to protect people and it was something that bonded them all together. As usual, he donned his favorite leather jacket for a night in the bar. When he picked Kaden up, he gave his arm a playful nudge and joked, “You excited to show an old man hunter like me all the good haunts?” He followed Kaden into the bar and instantly became engulfed in the energy. The buzz of chatter in the air and the stories he could pick up if he concentrated was contagious. They ordered a round of beers from the bar and he asked, “See anyone you know around tonight?”

“So long as you don’t embarrass me, old man,” Kaden said with a smile, returning the nudge. The Silver Bullet was home away from home. At least that’s what he kept telling himself it was. Somehow the more he went, the less that seemed to be true. Still, he was hoping that having Oscar with him would make it feel a little more like home again. Or a lot, depending. “Hey, Sam,” he said with a wave as they walked in and headed to the bar. As they took their beers, Kaden glanced around. “I know most of the regulars here,” he said. Then again, maybe he spoke too soon. “Or I did.” Admittedly he didn’t swing by as often; he found himself spending time with Regan more often than not. Shit, did he recognize anyone here other than Sam? His heart sunk a moment and then his eyes locked in on a table with some familiar faces. “There,” he said with a nod and led them over. Kaden greeted the table as they got there. “Devin, Mads, Kyle, this is my uncle Oscar,” he told them, introducing the hunters sitting at the table to his uncle. “It’s a whole ass family reunion tonight.”

“Me? Embarrass you? When have I ever done anything like that,” Oscar joked with a hearty laugh. The Silver Bullet was just the vibe he was looking for. Meeting new hunters had always been one of the fun parts of the job. Not many could relate to the challenges they faced on a day to day basis and Oscar could only hope that Kaden was utilizing this community. It was important to have a healthy outlet for this shit and these guys understood. He waved to Sam and ordered his beer. He looked to Kaden who seemed to be looking for familiar faces. “You did? You really are getting domestic on me,” he retorted with a laugh until Kaden pointed out a table. There was a somewhat mousy looking one that Kaden called Devin. He looked really smart and he’d bet anything he was a warden. One had to be good with their words to work with the damn fae. Mads looked tough, but gorgeous. He’d definitely be buying her a drink. Kyle was drinking a Natty Light and Oscar did his best not to judge. “Good to meet everyone,” his eyes landed on Mads, “Especially you.” Everyone gave him a welcoming wave. “So, who here has some fun stories tonight? This town I’m sure there’s some good ones.” Not surprisingly, Kyle was the first one to pip up, “Well, last week I killed an ustra. Tricky bastards those ones,” he exclaimed slamming his can down on the table.

Kaden rolled his eyes at Oscar’s ribbing. “Yeah well, keep it in check if you can stand to, alright? I know it’s going to be a tall order for you.” It was strange how quickly all of his worries about this evening faded away as he saw the group and sat down with his drink in hand. This was fine, normal, even. Well, his version of normal. Certainly not what most people would have considered normal. He let out a small sigh as he took a drink. “Shut it,” he grumbled under his breath. He’d never seen himself as the type to settle into anything, hell he’d always planned to model his life after Oscar’s in a lot of ways. It hadn’t bothered him just how “domestic” his life had become until his uncle decided to point it out. It almost felt like an insult coming from him. And he didn’t even know the half of it. As Oscar flirted with Mads, Kaden rolled his eyes again, but a hint of a smile was still on his face. Of course Oscar zeroed in on Mads. Made sense. And he could sure do worse. “An ustra? Shit, good for you, Kyle. I saw one the other week. It nearly got me. I only got out bec--” The words caught in his throat. He only got out of it because a werewolf helped him. Putain. “You lose the plot, Langley?” Devin asked. “Are you lying to us? Come on, there’s no way you took one by yourself,” he finished with a huff. Kaden wanted to crawl into a hole. He took an awkward sip instead. “Fuck off. I had something caught in my throat. It was definitely an ustra. I got a lucky shot in right at its eye. That was it. How about you fucking let me finish speaking next time, Porter, huh?”

While Oscar was a little put off by Kyle slamming a can down on the table, he was impressed with him taking down an ustra. From what he knew, they were tricky bastards. You had to avoid their venom or you were surely done for. What had surprised him was that Kaden had gotten defensive while speaking of his own ustra encounter. He raised a brow and let him finish. “Glad you’re both alive to tell the tale. I’ve never seen one myself though maybe that’ll change in this crazy town.” He gave Kaden a pat on the back and chuckled, “No need to get defensive, Junge. I’ve seen you take down worse. Devin here’s probably just mad he hasn’t seen one.” Devin seemed to huff something under his breath and Oscar took another swig of his beer. He turned to Mads and gave her a devilish grin. “What about you, Mads? You look like you could kick my ass.” As much was true and damn attractive at that. She smirked and responded, “You’re right, I could kick your ass, but you caught me on a good night so I won’t. What I can’t believe is that these guys over here are bragging about an ustra. That’s child’s play.” She threw back the rest of what looked like whiskey on the rocks before she finished, “Meanwhile, I just took down an asanbosam. Fight an agile tree vampire then we can talk about who the real badass is here, boys.”

Kaden’s first instinct at the word defensive was to bite back, and he nearly did. Until Oscar finished speaking. Right. A bit of a smile crept on his face. Devin seemed less thrilled by the assessment. “That may be true. However, I’ll have you know there’s a banshee in town that I’m working on tracking, I’m sure I’ll have a kill more impressive than your ustra soon enough,” Devin assessed, cleaning his glasses as he waxed on. At the word banshee, the beer he was sipping seemed to aim right for his windpipe and Kaden beat his chest a moment as he tried to get his breath back. Shit, shit, fuck, putain de merde, fucking shit fuck, fuck. “What’s wrong with you, Langley?” Kyle asked. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he sputtered between coughs. Fuck, fuck, he had to focus, think quick. “I was just cracking up at the thought of you bagging a banshee. The fact you even think there’s one in town is fucking laughable. You know how rare those are?” Devin’s feathers looked ruffled and he was practically steaming. “Have you not heard the screams? Seen the broken glass? You have to know as well as I that--” Kyle waved his beer can in Devin’s face to make him stop. “Yeah, yeah, no one cares, dude.” Kaden exhaled, trying not to let it be a full on sigh of relief. His stomach was in knots and they were only a few minutes into the evening. He was going to need a lot of refills tonight, that was for sure. “Asanbosam? Pft, big deal. Took down one of those, too.” If they could just stick to the undead, that’d be great. “I mean, alright, a witch helped a little but only after I saved her life. Let me know when you go up against a vrykolakas. Then I might be impressed.”

When Devin mentioned tracking a banshee, it came as no surprise to Oscar he was a warden. While he respected the crap out of what they did and what they went up against, he much preferred his life as a beast hunter. Not nearly as much wit and watching your words required. “A banshee? Can’t say I’ve heard of one this side of the Atlantic, but the death rate in this town is probably appealing to them,” Oscar mused though he was taken aback by Kaden sputtering on his drink. Had he missed something funny there? There was a certain tension to Kaden still that he couldn’t quite place. He gave him a few good pats on the back and pressed, “It’s not far fetched, I mean hell, we saw a bies on my first night in town. If there is a banshee in town, I’m sure we’ll all hear it soon enough.” Especially given they all had more sensitive hearing than most. There must have been some sort of weird rivalry going on between Kaden and Devin that he wasn’t all that interested in entertaining. Kaden was better than that. Thankfully, with Kyle’s influence, Devin seemed to be dropping it. He couldn’t help but laugh at everyone one upping each other. He gave Kaden a joking nudge. “Nice job taking down an asanbosam… though I will say I’m sure Mads looked way better while doing it.” He gave Mads a sly wink to which she responded with a coy grin. “Vrykolakas are rough, too. Haven’t worked with too many spellcasters, but a slayer back in Prague helped me out with a pricolici. Worst of both worlds, those arschlochs.”

Kyle muttered something about them all sounding like nerds as he slammed his can of shitty American beer down on the table. Oscar rolled his eyes, had to love the younger generation. “You’re not going to make it long with that kind of attitude. Different monsters require different weapons and fighting tactics. It’s one thing to enjoy the fight, it’s another to be stupid.”

“Sure is,” Kaden mumbled into his beer. Hell the death rate was half the reason why Regan was employed in the town. Funny enough. If he left to go to the restroom to go vomit,would anyone notice? “Yeah but bies can’t get on a plane and fly across the ocean. Just because you think you heard a barn owl once doesn’t mean it was a banshee or that she-- it’d even still be in town, putain.” Still Oscar’s last comment churned a pit in his stomach. Of course they’d hear it. They all would. When she screamed for someone’s death, half the town could hear it. It was a wonder she hadn’t come across a warden yet. For a brief moment Kaden’s eyes caught Devin’s and he wondered if he would be willing to kill the other man for Regan’s sake. He looked away just as quick. Vomiting in the restroom was feeling more like a necessity. No, he wouldn’t be willing to take someone’s life, especially not another hunter’s. Right? The beer in front of him was starting to look like an enemy to the knots in his stomach. Focusing on whatever was going on between Mads and Oscar seemed less upsetting, surprisingly, he turned his focus there, away from Devin. “Well we know she looks better than you, so not surprising” he said with his own half smile. He had little doubt they’d be leaving without him by the end of the night. Fine by him. Oscar deserved some fun. He was always good at finding it. I would be nice if Kaden could remember how to have fun right about now but the thought of pricolici just flashed a vision of Montgomery’s trophy room in front of his eyes. Shit, why was he so fucking off tonight?

“Don’t worry, Kyle can be our cannon fodder. That is what he was trained for, right?” Kaden ribbed. Kyle didn’t seem to know what that meant but he did know it was an insult. “Man, shut up Langley. No one cares about your fancy lineage, dude.” Kaden went to roll his eyes but as much as he was joking, he really didn’t enjoy seeing more dead hunters. “Calm down. I didn’t say shit about that, you did, But seriously, if you want any help or tips let me know. No bullshit.”

There was clearly some sort of rivalry between Devin and Kaden that Oscar wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to understand. A banshee being in town really wasn’t all that far-fetched. Considering the death rate, it’d be the perfect spot for one to call home and there would probably be lots of screams. It was only a matter of time before one revealed itself if there was a banshee here. He took a chug of his beer and shrugged off the whole debate, “Sure, they can travel. Time will surely tell.” Hopefully, not paying too much mind to Devin would help shake off whatever tension was there. He’d have to ask about that later though he figured that’d be a message. By all indication, Mads seemed interested in him and he had no intention of wasting that momentum. He laughed and agreed, “Damn right, she does. Though that could be said of her versus anyone in this bar. Maybe she’ll still give an old man like me a fighting chance.” Her smirk told him everything he needed to know though her response let him know she wasn’t going to make it easy. “I’d consider it, though I do think you should at least buy a girl a drink first. I may be able to kick your ass, but I’m still a lady.” With a nod, he answered, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned to Kaden and asked, “Need another beer, Junge?” He looked a bit perplexed to see just how untouched his beer was. “Actually, I’m getting you another one. Don’t let a nice Spatan like that get warm.” He gave Kaden a big pat on the back before he went off to grab another round for himself, Mads, and Kaden. He asked Sam for their drinks and brought them back over to catch the tail end of Kyle and Kaden’s conversation. “Seriously, kid, it’s got nothing to do with clout. In a town like this, you gotta know what you’re up against. No one wants to see your obituary in the paper.”

Kaden knew it was only a matter of time until a warden ran into Regan if they weren’t already hunting her but he still hoped time wouldn’t tell, that she could be spared that part of supernatural life. Anyway, it was fun to see Mads giving Oscar a hard time. And nice to not have to worry about his own bullshit. “Are you suggesting that he’s not a gentleman?” Kaden asked Mads, feigning surprise. “I can assure, this,” he said, gesturing to Oscar, “is a gentleman through and through. He does owe you a drink, though,” he said with a smile. It was easy though to focus on someone other than himself. Plus, the sooner that Oscar left with Mads, the sooner he could head home, maybe stop by and see Regan. Putain, he felt like he became such a stick in the mud. “Oh?” He almost missed that Oscar was talking to him. How he could feel so utterly alone at a bar surrounded by people was a wonder. “Right, sorry. Thanks. Do you need any help getting the--?” Oscar was already gone before Kaden could finish asking. He didn’t need help, anyway, Kaden knew that. He always had things covered. Somehow his uncle always had life figured out. Kaden thought he had his figured out, too. But hey, he could take some comfort in the fact that he had more figured out than Kyle did. “I’m not going to die. I got this covered,” Kyle said before chugging the rest of his beer. “Look, I got this tattoo. It’s for protection. No way am I going to kick the bucket for at least five years.” Kaden pinched his nose and shook his head, unable to stifle the laughs at seeing what looked like a generic tribal tattoo on Kyle’s arm. “If you say so, ‘dude.’ Good luck,” Kaden said through laughter. “I hope you didn’t pay too much money for that.”

As Oscar was walking back with all three drinks in tow, he wished he could turn the hunter hearing off from time to time. A protective tattoo? Was this Kyle guy an absolute idiot? It’d be a miracle if he made it five more days let alone five more years. It sounded like there was no talking sense into that thick skull of his, so he opted to not push it any further. He was much more taken with Mads anyway. If Kyle wanted to be a dumbass, that was his prerogative. He set Kaden’s and Mads’ drinks down in front of them and shook his head, “Pretty sure you got scammed, Kyle. Don’t let some tattoo make you forget just how dangerous what we do is.” Okay, maybe he hadn’t entirely let that slide. Was he a cocky bastard himself? He sure was, but he knew his shit. There were very few beasts out there that he couldn’t recognize and have some recollection of the best way to kill them. Without that knowledge he’d have been a long ficken time ago. He’d had just about enough of Kyle’s shit and Kaden seemed over it, too. Seeing if Mads wanted to get out of here after they finished this round seemed like the best idea. There was a wry grin on his face as he asked, “So how are my chances looking now that I’ve been a gentleman and brought the prettiest lady in the bar a drink?” Mads rolled her eyes at him playfully and answered, “I decided you were coming home with me when you first joined us.” A woman who could kick his ass and knew what she wanted and went for it. His wicked grin only widened and he placed a hand on her lower back as he slid onto the stool next to her. “I’m sure Kaden here will appreciate not having to chauffeur me back to my hotel. I’d say I’m cramping his style, but that would be a lie.”

Kaden made a mental note to ask Luce if she saw Kyle in the shop and if it was her that pulled a prank on him and robbed him of his money or if that was where she drew the line. It’d be an entertaining conversation either way, he had a feeling that much was true. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand talking to Kyle and he couldn’t bear to be alone with Devin, he was too afraid he’d give himself away. Come on, Oscar, flirt faster. Right on schedule, his uncle practically leaned over and winked at Mads across the table. Very subtle. Still, he was thankful. It was odd watching him flirt with women at a hunter bar meanwhile he wasn’t trying to pick up anyone himself. Hell, he had someone to go home to. So much of it felt wrong but at the same time, he wasn’t really sure he’d trade it. Looking around the bar, the allure, the comfort, it felt hollow. Not completely but it wasn’t what he remembered. But he was happy to see Oscar was having a good time. And was about to have a better one. “You’re right, old man. Some of us have better shit to do at home. And people,” he said with a coy smile. “No offense to you, Mads. You can do better, though.” He downed the rest of his beer and gave Oscar a pat on the shoulder before turning to head out. “Have a good night,” he said and gave a small wave before heading out and going home back to a quiet night at home, something that oddly felt more normal now. Who would have guessed.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #writing #oscar #forfuchssake #hell's bells

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