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anxiouspineapple99 · 8 months

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Just a Touch of Your Love

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fives follows you to your dance class thinking you’re going on a date. Confessions of love and sweet sweet smut ensue!

Warnings: mutual pining, oral sex (m & f receiving), PiV, lots of sappy worshipping

Word Count: 3785

A/N: I’m going to convert you all into Fives girlies (GN) one day. This man is just 🥰🫠 i LOVE writing Fives.

Song reader is dancing to is:

Song smut was written to:

>We will be back on Coruscant 1300 today. Meet us at 79s at 1700 - Fives

You stared at the unexpected message on your datapad and you couldn’t contain the giddy leg kicks you did off the edge of your bed. Fives was coming home!

You were just friends. At least, you tried to convince yourself of that fact over and over but your heart didn’t seem to listen or care. So tonight you were throwing caution to the wind, consequences be damned. You were telling him. At 79s. After you’d had enough drinks to knock out a bull bantha.

>Have an appointment. Will be done around 1730. See you at 79s after!

You glanced at the chrono and made your way to the door tossing your small bag over your shoulder. In an effort to keep your mind occupied while Fives was gone, you’d joined a dance class at a local studio. The workout helped keep the anxiety about his safety and the stress from work at bay. You also loved it being walking distance from your apartment and you usually enjoyed having the opportunity to ruminate in your thoughts before class started. However, today you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched the entire trek to the studio.

“She says she’s busy and is going to be late.” Fives stared at your message on his datapad anxiously.

“So?” Hardcase absently answered as he laid in his bunk.

“What if she’s on a date?” Fives began to pace, mindlessly tapping the datapad against his thigh as he stroked his goatee.

“Which brings us back to…so? I thought you two were just friends.” Hardcase sat up, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He’d had suspicions that there was more there than Fives had wanted to admit.

“We…are. But any guy she’s with needs to meet my standards. I need to know she’s safe. Physically and emotionally.” Fives rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned against the parasteel wall of the barracks.

“Sure, brother. Whatever you have to tell yourself. So you’re going to follow her?” Hardcase cocked his eyebrow with a knowing grin.

“Yep,” Fives tossed the datapad down on his bunk and walked toward the door.

“Good luck. See you tonight at 79s!” Fives threw a hand up in a lazy wave as Hardcase called to him. However Hardcase had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing his brother again until morning.

Fives followed you from your apartment to the dance studio. He sighed in relief when he realized it wasn’t a date and then was overwhelmed with curiosity at your new hobby you’d kept hidden from him. He briefly considered waiting for you at your apartment but he was brimming with a need to see what you were doing. He followed a small group of spectators in, and immediately scanned the room for you. His keen eyes spotted you, front and center of the small group of dancers that were already performing.

He swelled with pride watching the way you owned the room with smooth and graceful steps and the incredibly sexy gyration of your hips (maker your ass looked good in those heels and booty shorts.) His eyes were drawn to your lips that were silently mouthing the words of the (admittedly somewhat suggestive song) you were dancing to. If only he could kiss you right then and there. He couldn’t help but think how glad he was he wasn’t watching you on a date and how desperately he wished you were his.

As the class wrapped up you heard the giddy twitters of your fellow dancers. You turned to see what the commotion was about and flushed deeply seeing him watching you from across the room. His forearm rested against the wall and he leaned into it. His legs were slightly crossed, the toe of his right boot resting on the dorsum of his left. His helmet may have been on still but you could feel his gaze on you, completely ignoring the gaggle of giggling girls that had surrounded him. You gave a shy wave and made your way over, bag slung over your shoulder.

“Hey…what are you doing here?” You whispered as you tugged your hair back into a ponytail.

“Watching you. Can’t believe you were holding out on me! Let’s get out of here,” through the modulation of his voice you could hear the lilt of joy you’d missed so much while he’d been gone. He plucked the bag from your hand and escorted you out the door, hand ghosting the small of your back sending your heart racing as you began the walk back to your apartment.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d taken up dance, mesh’la?”

“You always make fun of Hardcase’s dancing and I thought…”

“What? I make fun of Case because he can’t dance. He looks like an injured tauntaun. I wouldn’t make fun of you. You’re… graceful and lovely when you dance. I could watch you all day.” The earnest sincerity of his compliment sent your heart into a tailspin. You were certain that had he not been wearing that bucket you would have kissed him right then and there.

You paused, “But how did you find me? And why? You could have just waited for me at 79s.”

He removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm, “I’m an ARC trooper, babe. Reconnaissance is my specialty,” he winked at you. Your mouth pressed into a hard line as your eyes narrowed.

His bravado dropped as his shoulders turned in and he meekly continued. “Fine, You were so vague in your message and…well if you were on a date I wanted to make sure he wasn’t a sleemo. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You blinked, stunned speechless.

Fives clenched his jaw before a look of determination broke through, “Don’t you ever wonder why I always stay with you when we’re at 79s?”

You shrugged and kicked a pebble as you walked.

“Because I want to. I want to stay with you, not go home with some girl whose name I’ll forget by the time I sneak out of her apartment. I’d pick you a hundred, a thousand, no…a million times. No hesitation. I’d take on the entire CIS, GAR, and the chancellor himself just to keep you safe.”

“Oh. Well…what…what if….” You stared at your feet and picked at your nails.

“Yes, cyare?” His soft baritone offered comfort and safety.

“What if I want that? I want you?” You could barely squeak out the words, terrified you’d read the entire exchange wrong.

His nose crinkled briefly as he processed your statement, “You want…really? Me?”

His eyes lit up as you nodded your affirmation. He dropped your bag and closed the gap between you, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, hooking them under your bum and lifted you into a spin as his helmet clattered to the permacrete.

“Fives!” You yelped with giddy surprise, “what are you doing?”

“I saw it in a holofilm once and I wanted to try it,” a blush rose to his cheeks as he started to lower you back to the ground.

“No! Don’t put me down yet! I like it!” You pressed your forehead to his, unable to contain your beaming grin.

The remainder of your walk back to your apartment was filled with giggles, gentle touches, and joy radiating from both of you so brightly it put the twin suns of Tatooine to shame.

“So I will get cleaned up and we can head to 79s, yeah?” You twittered as you punched in the code for your door. The door hissed open but before you could walk inside, Fives’ fingers circled your wrist and yanked you back toward him.

“Fives!” You shrieked as he swept you into his arms again, “I’m sweaty and gross! I need a shower!”

He grasped the back of your neck and pulled you in for the first kiss he needed more than air.

“Mmph..not gross,” he mumbled, his lips pressed to yours. “…mph…sexy,” he continued with sloppy enthusiasm. “…beautiful…ethereal…delicious…resplendent..a divine goddess I will worship for the rest of my life…” Every praise filled adjective was punctuated with those frantic and sloppy kisses to emphasize his earnestness. “If you insist though, I’m joining you. At this point I don’t think I can stand being apart from you, mesh’la.”

His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to access your soft neck. The two of you clumsily fumbled through your door, pulling armor and clothing off haphazardly as you refused to pull apart from the kisses you’d both only dreamt of before that moment.

The mess of lips and limbs stumbled into the ‘fresher. You blindly fumbled for the tap as Fives’ hand at the back of your head kept your lips pressed to his own. You sighed into him as his warm soft lips parted, his tongue seeking entrance to entangle itself with yours. He pressed you against the shower wall as the water hissed to life, his lips never staying in one place for long. Your sighs touched his ears like a melody, your body the instrument and his kisses the method of playing it. He reveled in the sanctity of your skin on his and even still you both shared a ravenous need to be closer.

“Turn around,” he whispered into your lips as he reached for the shampoo over your shoulder.

His strong deft fingers began massaging your scalp. Kisses were interspersed along your neck and shoulders as his hands weaved an intimate and soothing rhythm through your locks. You tilted your head back, chasing the sensation of his fingers moving through your hair, a sensual sigh escaping your lips. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple as one hand continued massaging and the other trailed down your throat and along your collarbone. His fingers traipsed lazily along your skin, slowly working your floral body gel into a lather, caressing, tickling, teasing. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs flicking your sensitive nipples. His teeth grazed your neck before he sucked his mark into your shoulder. Your melodious sounds stoked his own flame of arousal to a raging wildfire, his own groans a harmony in the song of your love. Your nails dragged along his thighs needily as you pressed ever closer to him. Wordlessly he turned you to face him again, running soapy hands along every soft curve of your body with devotion.

You followed his lead, massaging shampoo into his scalp until suds ran down his neck. You paused to press open mouthed kisses to his pecs, circling your tongue around each of his nipples. He growled in response, grasping at your waist as his head lolled back in electric pleasure. Your fingers traced the v-line leading down to his erect penis. You grasped the shaft, pumping a few times before dropping to your knees and taking his tip in your mouth. You relaxed your jaw allowing him to reach the back of your throat. His velvety skin alone was delicious and you ached to taste his release. You slowly dragged your mouth along his length, your tongue flicking and pressing until you reached the tip. You swirled your tongue around it, your pussy clenched as you tasted the precum he leaked. You sank your mouth to the base once more and he bucked his hips moaning your name. You dug your fingers into the firm cheeks of his ass, encouraging him to fuck your mouth. Drool poured down your chin as he grasped your hair, thrusting wildly as he chased the pleasure your mouth provided. Your fingers tightened their grip as his thrusts became erratic, his release eminent. He braced himself against the shower wall as he created the peak. You swallowed everything he had to give. He pulled you back to your feet for another kiss, moaning as he tasted himself on your tongue.

As the warm water rained down from the shower head rinsing the last of the soap away, Fives’ eyes remained fixed on you, his gaze lustful and admiring at once. His fingers were velvety, memorizing every curve he’d only once admired from afar. He turned you to face away from him, trailing kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulder. His arms wrapped protectively around you. His touch was reverent and worshipful and his kisses had slowed to a purposeful momentum. Through it he revealed the burning desire he’d suppressed until this moment. His hands slowly investigated your body more while his lips danced about your shoulders and neck. His pace was almost agonizingly slow as his hands returned to your breasts, brushing his thumb across your nipple.

The wanton moan that escaped your lips made him chuckle, “Do you know how long I have dreamt of this? You’re even more exquisite than any fantasy I have ever imagined.”

You reached back and ran your hand across his cheek. He leaned into you, kissing your palm, not stopping until you moved your hand to grasp the back of his neck. The hand that had rested on your thigh hand made its way between your legs. His caress was no more than a tease, a delicate stroke back and forth that stoked the fire within you even more than you’d thought possible.

“F-Fives…I” you gasped as his featherlight ministrations continued while his other hand’s teasing of your nipple remained steady and relentless.

“Patience, mesh’la. Let’s move to your bed.”

Fives wrapped you in a towel and carried you to your bed, laying you down as if you were made of glass. He immediately caged you in, his symphony of kisses whispering secret wordless promises. He pressed his leg against your aching core, groaning as he felt how wet you were for him.

He began pressing soft, open mouthed kisses down your neck. He journeyed along your clavicle, down your sternum to your breasts and then he paused, circling his tongue around your nipple pulling a gasp and then a filthy moan from you. Meanwhile his deft fingers drew wispy concentric circles around your other nipple.

“Fives, oh maker… that’s…you’re so good at that,” you whined barely coherent as he wound you up like a wind up toy.

He purred, catching your eye, his own amber eyes filled with lust and adoration.“Let’s see what else I’m good at.”

He maintained his pace, slow and deliberate as he moved his kisses down to your stomach. He wanted to taste every part of you. He ran a hand up between your breasts and across your collarbone, holding you down as he first ran his tongue and then his goatee over your ticklish hipbone. He made his way to your sensitive core, running his goatee lightly and slowly down your folds. He placed a hand on each thigh, holding your legs open as he licked a single strip along your sex.

“Oh stars, Fives!” You gasped, bucking your hips in pursuit of his tongue.

His remaining fiber of self control snapped. His hands gripped your hips, greedily pulling you closer to him. He pressed his tongue deep inside your pussy swirling and thrusting with a vigor that had you nearly screaming his name. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he heard the depraved sounds having his face pressed to your sex drew from you. His fingers returned to your thighs, holding your legs open so he didn’t miss a thing. You dug your fingers into your bed sheets as you panted his name like a prayer. He hummed savoring how you tasted. He’d imagined this moment countless times when alone in his bunk late at night but it didn’t hold a candle to the reality of the taste of your slick on his tongue.

“So good, mesh’la. You taste so good. Such a good girl letting me devour you.”

He gently inserted a finger inside you as he moved his tongue to your clit. He wrote his CT number, one five at a time, over and over again while his finger tenderly toyed with that perfect spot inside of you, first a stroke and then a swirl. That was when the coil he’d been winding up all evening snapped. You saw white as waves of pleasure washed over you. He only pulled back when he was certain you’d been fully satisfied. He trailed light kisses all the way up your body back to your ear.

“Lay down. It’s your turn,” you purred, looking up at him through fluttering lashes.

You nuzzled your nose into the junction where his neck met his shoulder, breathing soft words of praise he could barely hear. You took his earlobe in your teeth, grazing lightly, repeatedly encouraged by the groans resonating from his chest. You sat up taking a moment to admire his beautiful tan skin, playful eyes and the most genuine smile you’d ever known.

As your legs straddled his waist, he ran his hands softly along your curves, “Cyare. So beautiful. Mine.”

He leaned into your touch as you cupped his cheek. You began to rub your dripping wet pussy against his taught length. He whined and bucked his hips chasing your warmth. As the gyration of your hips continued teasing him, you pressed your chest to his. You dragged your nails across his scalp as your teeth made marks along his collarbone.

“Please, mesh’la. Need to be inside you,” he whimpered against your ministrations.

“Sir, yes sir,” you purred as you sheathed his throbbing cock within you, slowly moving down his shaft feeling every glorious vein as your walls pulsed around him. You traced the ‘five’ tattooed on his temple as you began to rock your hips. His groans were celestial and urged you on. His hands traveled to your hips and then to your ass where he squeezed firmly as you rode him slowly gliding up and down on his cock.

You ran your hands along his firm pectorals, tracing his nipples. Gradually you began to roll them between your thumbs and forefingers. He groaned, bucking his hips harder into you. You shifted your hips and leaned back slightly moaning as the new angle allowed you to reach that spot deep inside you once again, this time with his rock hard cock. His grip on your hips was bruising and you shuddered as you felt yourself approaching your own climax once again. He reached a hand up to tease your nipple once more. It was electric, pushing you closer to the edge. You threw your head back in response to the intoxicating sensation.

“Come with me Fives, can you do that for me?” You sounded desperate, and you certainly felt it.

“Kriff yes I can, cyare,” his thrusts into you were erratic as you both chased your second release.

“Inside me, Fives. I need you to fill me up.”

“Oh baby, I love you,” he gasped as you both crested the peak together riding out your synchronous waves of pleasure until you were both spent and nearly overstimulated.

You collapsed onto his chest, out of breath. He ran his fingers through your hair as he softly rubbed your back and delicately placed light kisses along your forehead. Even as you felt him softening inside of you, you weren’t ready to move and lose the feeling of wholeness and connection you felt to him.

You nuzzled your cheek into his chest, “Did you…did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?” He asked drowsily.

“You said you love me. Did you mean it or was it just…”

“Yes, mesh’la. Of course I mean it. I am out of my mind in love with you, have been for some time. But, you don’t have to say-”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a firm chaste kiss to your lips.

“Did you still want to hit 79s tonight?” You asked as you pulled back.

“Kriff that. This is way better than that dive,” he chuckled, his amber eyes sparkling in the dim light of your room.

Unfortunately, the beeping of his comlink beckoned him. He grumbled as he shifted beneath you, both of you cursing the emptiness you were left with when you finally rolled off him. He moved to the edge of your bed, awash in the glow of the ambient light. You crawled to him, unwilling to keep your hands off of him for any extended period of time. You pressed yourself to his back, wrapping your arms around his neck while kissing his temple as he answered the comlink.

“This is Fives.”

“Fiiiiivesss! Brother! Where the kriff are you?” A very inebriated voice crackled through the comm.

“Jesse! I told you he isn’t gonna come! Well…he probably came. But not here!” A second voice broke through the background accompanied by a cacophony of laughter and music.

“Tell Hardcase I heard that and we will have words about it tomorrow,” Fives reprimanded while giving you an apologetic smile. “And there’s been a change in plans for me. I won’t be there tonight. I’ll see you back on base tomorrow.”

You heard a few annoyed grumbles and a couple of congratulatory cheers before Fives closed the link.

“You sure you don’t want to meet up with them?” you nudged, an impish twinkle in your eyes.

Fives laughed and shook his head, “No.They’ll live. Here. Alone with you. That’s where I want to be. It’s where I’ve wanted to be for a long time. I’m not wasting it now.”

You squealed with delight as he grabbed you and swung you into his lap.

“Besides, cyar’ika. I was hoping you could perform that dance you were doing earlier today for me. Only for me.” His eyes were dark with desire as his hold on your waist tightened.

“I think I can do that. Should I wear the heels I had on too?” You crooned.

He threw his head back with a huge grin, “Oh maker yes please. But…only the heels. I want to see every inch of you, and then I’m going to make you scream my name again.” He leaned in to kiss your neck, “and again.” And then another kiss, this time to your temple, “and again. Everyone in this building is going to know my name tomorrow morning.” You melted under his touch, desperate to feel him inside you once more.

“Keep that up and I won’t get around to that dance,” you teased through a lascivious sigh.

He growled, “In that case…” he helped you to your feet and gave you a light swat to your behind. “You get those shoes, beautiful and I’ll start the song.”

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callmelyc · 10 months

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Written for Twitter julance

#2023JuLance

Week 1: sharpshooter PART 2- Life of the Title

Pridge groans "there is it AGAIN, that's the fifth time this week!"

Lance pauses his game from his place hanging upside down off the bed "there's what again?"

"Is it that code name again?" Hunk ask coming in with all their movie snacks leaning over to read pidges screen.

"I think so?" She's typing again trying to get to a good stoping point "we don't actually have any proof it's a name, the galra just talk about it alot...it keeps coming up & its in almost all the logs now."

"What's the name?"

She huffs "again, no proof it's a name- and it's Ghost Rite"

Lance snorts "that's so lame for the galra no way that's a name"

Hunk just frowns a bit "well whatever it is isn't invited to this sleepover, can we just watch the movie...please?"

As movie night goes off without a hitch lance can't help but feel like this won't be the last time he hears that name.

~*~

They're having a meeting with the blade today to discuss Keith's return to team Voltron when the name gets confirmed as a name.

"Kolivan, do you happen to know why the Galran keep discussing a Ghost Rite?" Allura says since she knows everyone has been worried about it and knowing something like this could be beneficial to them.

If lance had been daydreaming before he sure wasn't now, the moment the not name was mentioned the blades behind kolivan stiffened.as miniscule as the difference might have been lance has good eyes for a reason, he noticed things he knows no one else will. His focuses zeroed in on them, they knew something and based on kolivans pause at responding he'd say they might even know more than they'll let on.

"The Ghost Rite has become a marker of fear for the galra these last few pheobs. Their name alone has become a threat of sorts..." Kolivans eyes stay forward but some of the men behind glance briefly towards lance so quickly most wouldn't notice "has...Voltron not heard of this?"

Shiro frowns a bit "we've only been picking up on the name in the data we've collected from missions and stray com signals. Until today we didn't even know if it was a name."

This time kolivans eyes look towards lance "This individual is a key player in this war, we only ask Voltron keep him in check."

With a few more subtle glances noted and diplomatic goodbyes the meeting ends with only more confusion. No one comments on the way the blades kept looking towards lance but one thing they do focus on is the confirmation it's a name.

"Do you think it's a vigilante?" Hunk ask nervously "y-you don't think he's a bad guy right? The blade asked us to keep an eye on this guy and the galra fear him he's gotta be terrifying!"

Shiro pats his shoulder "calm down hunk, I'm sure whoever this Ghost Rite is will be a good ally if we ever meet. He might even be part of the resistance."

"I can ask mat to keep an eye out for the guy?" Pidge suggest.

Shiro smiles "that's an excellent idea"

Lance watches everyone from afar unable to shake those glances the blade gave him. He feels like he's missing something...oh well, how important can it really be?

~*~

That thing lance thought he was missing? Yeah, turns out it was really important.

They're on a mission split into three teams: shiro and allura handling the diplomacy, Keith and hunk handing evacuation, and pidge and lance doing some sneaky infiltration to rescue some stray prisoners that managed to get captured and sent off planet. Easy right?

/Wrong/

This ship was a maze, unlike any they'd seen before and the only thing bringing comfort to lance right now was the fact he had red who could get them out of here the fastest. It was eerily quiet, full of upgrades and still far too easy to sneak into.

"You think this is a trap?" Lance whispers to pidge while she hacks into the door systems "I mean...this is too easy, right?"

"That's what ur here for loverboy, your the fighting force here-" her fingers fly across the keys then there's a audible click to go with her triumphed woop "and I'm the brains!" Pidge swats at lances arm "let's go!"

The moment they get to where pidge needs to be all hell breaks lose. The galra aboard the ship come rushing down the halls flanked by sentries "pidge lock yourself inside the control room, I'll distract them while you get ur data-"

"Oh it!" She shouts "and lance?...good luck"

Lance is flying around the corner listening to the door latch itself shut with an override faster than you can call him sharpshooter. He's ready to face these galra head to head, ready to be the wall protecting pidge a meer wall away!

But when those galra get around to face him and lance materializes his Bayard into his trusty blaster? they stop rushing forward. Lance holds his position, Bayard pointed directly towards the line of galra that came to a stop and a stare down commences.

Not letting his gaurd down at this strange behavior, lance observes. This is when he starts to realize what that important thing was.

The galra before him aren't just at a pause, they're terrified. Their hands are trembling, faces pulled into a defensive snarl, some even take cautionary steps backwards to get further away.

The back of lances mind is itching with an answer, it's right at the top of his tongue-

"It's the Ghost Rite" one whispers, voice as shaken as his clawed hands that grip his polearm. Then it clicks-

All the times they've talked to the Blade glances have been thrown lances way, every time they go on a mission the mentions of the name increase. When pidge asked her brother to keep an eye out for the Ghost Rite he looked confused-

It's him, God lance can't believe they all missed this! He can't believe the galra gave him such a lame name when he's been trying to get sharpshooter to stick- /no, focus! Now is not the time!/

Looking back at these men and seeing how shaken they are about lance standing here, he thinks maybe....maybe he should test the waters a little?

Ya know, for science.

Lance steps forward making them step back twice the distance. He repositions his gun causing the weaker to flinch while the rest to either drop their weapons or hold theirs unsteady.

He smirks....someone whimpers.

/Oh/ lance thinks trying not to laugh /this will be fun/

The rest of the mission goes off without a hitch, with lance using his newly acquired info to get them to bend to his whims a little things went faster than usual. Data collected, prisoners saved, planet freed and another win for voltron all the while lance is the only one to know about the Ghost Rite.

Of course, he didn't tell anyone about it not when he has no proof. Who would believe him anyways? His entire team thinks he's great with people, super kind and an all around great guy! Of course they think him capable, they saw what went down on Euble and all the other missions they go on, but that doesn't mean they'd think him a sign of fear for the galra.

So with every mission they go on lance watches the galra freeze or stutter at spotting him, he smirks or lets them know it would be on sight- they drop things or put up much less of a fight, then they all go on their merry way!

It's been a lot of fun. Some ships don't even leave actual galra stationed anymore, there's been more and more sentries and less intense battles. Lance counts it as a win.

The name even spreads past the galra, soon enough any criminals in general know about lance, even the ones trying to take over part of their own home planets. All lance has to do is stand behind his lovely team during diplomatic missions and the secretly horrible ones will glance towards him, freeze up and excuse themselves.

He's becoming a master at subtle threats too. When these people recognize him he just has to wave his hand a certain way and they blanch faster than the vegetables Hunk preps.

In the end these people are almost always working with the galra...but still lance is having a blast with it. There's nothing quite like being the secret weapon.

When doing meetings with the Blade he can tell they've noticed that Lance is...aware of his title. The next time it's brought up lance smiles at their inevitable glances his way, kolivans eyes alight with recognition then things continue forward as if a revelation didn't just occur.

The next time the blade are physically aboard the castle kolivan pulls lance aside alone "you are aware now."

It's not a question this time "I am" lance confirms meeting kolivan eye for eye.

"I trust we are in your good graces?" He ask lance reluctantly as if worried for his response.

It's the first time lance remembers the blade are all galra too "yeah, you guys are on our side...I trust you."

Kolivan looks at him a little longer like he's making sure lance isn't just lying to have an edge "this will be beneficial then."

Lance watches him leave wondering just how deep this all goes.

~*~

He's protecting a small group of civilians in a diplomatic mission gone wrong when their hiding spot he chose is blown. Well...sorta.

The galran throw down a group the planets higher ranking individuals right Infront of lances hiding spot. Each and every one of them is tied up, disarmed and panicked. Standing before them is a huge burly beefcake of a Galra, seriously this guy is massive, all snarls and glower.

And this guy Is clearly not happy, nor are his little henchmen.

"Where is he?" The burly one lance has dubbed boss man ask, brandishing his sword.

"Where is who?" One of the council members voice, he's terrified lance notes but the Galra man only growls.

"The Ghost Rite!" He shows his teeth "we know he's amongst you and we want revenge"

The civilians next to lance start to shake "We don't know who that is!"

Lance lays low, calling his Bayard to his side.

"Lies! He's rumored to be a member of Voltron, where is he!" A blade is held to the counselors neck now and that's when lance decides to act.

He ignores the hushed begging from the people beside him asking him not to leave. He steps into the open.

"I heard you're looking for me?" Lance says with a smile

Boss man turns eyeing lance up and down taking notes of the V on his chest and blaster in hand "So it's true then, the sniper of vld is Ghost Rite"

"You've killed almost all of my men-" he takes a fighting stance growling at Lance "you've ruined everything!"

"What, like it's hard?" He distantly hears the few of the prisoners off to the side curse under their breath but that's ok they don't know how good lance is at games like this "maybe you should've trained them better to not get spotted so easily"

He watches the henchmen start to tremble and shoots them a smirk. If he can buy enough time maybe his team will be able to get here, either way the prisoners will be freed even if he has to do it himself.

The Galra growls and tells his last two men to stand gaurd for the prisoners. He charges at lance "they only fear you because you can kill at a distance!"

He's clawing at lance viscously, at every dodge he makes "you are NOTHING in close combat!"

Lance spins changing his stance to go towards the galran coming at him. Everyone shouts terrified before a light zings through the air a sharp polearm taking its place and stabbing through the commanders chest.

"The Ghost part of my name comes from people never getting away to tell others I can defend myself upclose too" lance says low enough that only the one infront of him can hear "I won't be the only ghost here."

"You-" he gargles in response.

Lance pushes him off the polearm with his leg before spinning around to the final two "do you wanna try me or will you yield for arrest?"

When he turns ready to free the prisoners he finds his team looking back at him slack jawed in a mix of pride and shock.

The final two men are detained, practically begging to be away and that was the day his team discovered he was the Ghost Rite all along.

(it also meant them freaking out bc the galra are afraid of him "lance! Even the blade are a little scared of you wtf!")

(Allura taught him the polearm she's so proud)

Part 1

#lance vld #vld lance #voltron #lance mcclain #julance #if you see any mistakes no you don't #im teaching myself how to write fics be gentle with me #this is part 2 part one is somewhere ill figure out how to link to it i promise

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mountswhore · 3 years

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hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

#mase #money mase #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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cassianandfenrysaremyboyos · 3 years

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hey! I only recently started reading acotar (i'm on the third book) and I love love love Lucien, and I'm super excited at the prospect of him and Elain... actually they are the main reason I'm reading at this point but all I've seen on twt is about the other ship for Elain 😔 Is there any hope for Elain x Lucien in the later books?? I'm asking bc I don't want to get major spoilers but also I'm tired of getting my heart broken by non endgame ships lol

Welcome to the Lucien and Elucien train!! We're very happy to have to you! 😊💕

I wouldn't worry about what people are saying on twitter. Just because one part of the fandom is more vocal doesn't mean their ship is more popular or that it has more chance of happening in canon. Right now neither ship is canon. But absolutely there is hope for Elucien!!

First Elucien are mates. Sarah loves mates/soulmates. We've seen that with Feysand and Nessian, and I don't know if you've read Throne of Glass but the main ship in that series are also mates and the main ship in Sarah's other series, Crescent City also show signs of being soulmates. Sarah loves writing about that deep soulmate type of love! They might have to overcome obstacles but ultimately they choose each other.

Also Sarah has talked about how in her early planning she briefly considered making Nesta and lucien mates but quickly realised they wouldn't work together/would tear each other apart. If Sarah really wanted to write about a rejected mating bond she could have left Nesta and Lucien mates and had them reject the bond. But she didn't because she loves soulmates.

Sarah has also said this about Elucien "there was actually a great deal of tension, growth and healing to be found for both of them together" She's never said anything ever about the other ship as far as I know? Certainly nothing romantic.

There is so much potential for healing between Elain and Lucien. One of the things I love about Elucien is they have so much in common. They're both gentle souls. Some people might not realise that about Lucien, but he really is. Lucien is someone who is deeply traumatised from violence, you see it in the first book in the scene when the injured Faery is brought into the Spring Court manor and he's deeply distressed by it. It clearly triggers his ptsd from his own trauma, but it also shows us that Lucien is someone who can't stomach violence, at least not in the way some of the other characters do. And Elain, well at this stage, since we haven't really seen her development or gotten her pov yet, being a kind gentle heart is really her defining character trait. They're two characters who would cherish a peaceful life away from war and violence. Two characters with the potential to be so soft together, to provide each other with a safe space to be vulnerable, and show their weaknesses and talk about their trauma. And be comforted by the other and have the other understand. They have such complimentary personalities. Something the other ship doesn't have. Azriel is a torturer (I love Az btw so this isn't a critiscm just observations about his character) he is filled with a cold hard rage, something Elain hasn't seen from him/doesn't truely know about him. And currently he's most definitely not one to open up and share about his own trauma, which certaintly doesn't work for two characters making a healing journey together. Something Sarah, as shown above see's as important. Elain and Azriel are simply too different imo. And I know people can argue opposite's attract. But opposite's attract only applies to a certain point, with certain things. If two people are just fundementally different a relationship won't work between them long term.

Meanwhile Elain and Lucien have just enough differences that they're not too similar but have enough in common to mesh really well together.

And even their differences are complimentary. Lucien has a bit of bite and sass about him, and that's something I think Elain needs to help bring her out of her shell. Elain is someone who has been coddled and infantalised and sheltered, people don't challenge her or speak freely to her, they censor themselves around her. Very minor spoilers seeing as you're only up to the third book, but in the 5th book, Acosf there's a moment where Nesta snaps/swears at Elain, and Nesta immediately regrets it because you don't talk to sweet precious Elain like that. But Elain just laughs. Elain wants people to speak freely to her, to stop sheltering her and show her some sass and bite. And who's the perfect person to do that, our boy Lucien!! Again some minor spoilers but I love this comparison

Lucien in Acotar

Elain in Acosf

Look at this parallel between them *chefs kiss*

Like Sarah said these are two characters that will push growth in each other and challenge each other. In a way that Azriel and Elain don't. Azriel, and this is very apparent in Acosf, coddles Elain, he speaks for her, makes choices for her, wants to stops her from doing things, without ever thinking about or asking Elain what she wants. He does it to protect her but is disregarding her choice. Lucien on the other hand, and again some spoilers if you haven't reached the end of Acowar yet this is after the final battle

He's clearly worried about her but he doesn't let HIS worry/fear get in the way of HER agency.

"And I heard you made the killing blow" He sounds almost proud of her, like he would encourage her despite his own worry, and wants to see her strong and flourish.

What I also love in this scene is that again it shows how their both gentle hearts. "Well I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live" Lucien will fight and do what he needs to (and so will Elain if she has to). But Lucien isn't a warrior he would much rather never have to see war or battle ever again.

And then we have multiple references to Elain needing sunlight, needing to get outside, needing light to thrive. Again minor spoilers but there is also a scene in Acosf where Elain is wearing black and it's mentioned how she looks plain, overwhelmed, subdued by the colour, like it doesn't suit her at all. There are a lot of subtle references suggesting Elain doesn't quite truely belong in the Night Court, that it's not where she can thrive. And who is associated with two courts, Spring and Day, where Elain could thrive? Who is associated with fire and warmth and light? Who is the heir of the day court? You got it our boy Lucien. Elain needs light and Lucien is light!! Literally the name Lucien means light! Coincidence? I think not.

Another similarity between them is Lucien is a diplomat, someone who uses words and charm and communication to keep the peace between courts. And Elain is said by Feyre to be be able to convince people to do anything, to charm them, to excel in social settings. And she was the one who kept the peace between her family, was the bridge between her father, Nesta and Feyre. And Imagine if in the future Lucien takes on a role in the day court or (and I'm sorry Helion) for whatever reason becomes the High Lord of Day Court, Elain could be an amazing Lady of Day, would flourish and charm at court balls or social occassions. Not to mention they both have great hair and are always put together/dressed immaculately. Like they would be A PAIR!

Then there's the gifts Lucien gives Elain (again minor spoilers for Acofas and Acosf) which are so thoughtful. In Acofas he gives her magical gardening gloves knowing gardening is something she loves and that she doesn't have any. And in Acosf he gives her pearl earrings, and pearls are somehing that are mentioned in relation to Elain a couple of other times. But it's like Lucien has noticed they're something she likes? These are just minor things but it's interesting that Sarah included them in her writing. It's almost as if she's subtly trying to hint that Lucien notices things about Elain, and see's her in a way that perhaps other's don't?

Also there's that Elain is very traditional and adheres to a quite a traditional type of femininity and Lucien is a complete and utter gentleman, who absolutely respects Elain and her needs. The potential for them to have an old fashioned courting romance asdgjkgfsa my heart the softness!! I also think they're going to end up being the epitome of your lover is your best friend.

And lastly, in Acosf there is a bonus chapter from Az's pov which ends with Azriel's focus on another character, and I would say personally that this chapter very clearly sinks that other ship.

Anyway in conclusion Elucien are going to be the most beautiful, softest, sweetest, supportive, with some sass as well, ship. So don't worry my friend. And even in the very small chance they don't become canon we can still enjoy all of these things about them in fanon. They will be canon though lol

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #lucien #elain #asks #long post #this got really long I'm sorry lol #but i hope this allays some of your fears anon

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beesinspades · 3 years

Text

bee’s ace xie lian fics~

No matter the fic, I always write Xie Lian as ace and think of Hua Cheng as demi. Though not that much talked about, after a year of being in this fandom, I can safely say that it turns out ace(spec) Xie Lian is actually a pretty popular headcanon, which brings me immense joy!!

I used to be scared of making that kind of post, but seeing how much the rep in these fics means to many fellow aces, I thought I’d do a short masterpost for anyone else who might be interested!

I don’t tag the ones in which there's no mention of the headcanon, but I do tag even those where it’s briefly mentioned or just implied. I kept those out of the list, but you can easily find them on my AO3 account by setting the Additional Tags filter on Asexual Character. I only included those that have either a big focus on it, or those that have at least dialogue or some narration about it.

I will also link in the replies a Twitter thread with fics by other authors!

just this | rated T, 2.8k

“Xie Lian smiles, bright and heartfelt, and oh, here’s that feeling again. I get to have this. Wake up to this. This beautiful thing from my wildest dreams; my most beloved, shining his heavenly light on me.”

or, the first of many moments of intimacy in Paradise Manor.

This one it remains very dear to my heart! It has a big focus since it was my first attempt at exploring this headcanon.

the sunlit altar | rated E, 4.6k

““Since you’ve mentioned it. . . I’ve been thinking,” Xie Lian says softly. He returns to Hua Cheng to grasp his hand, looking resolute. His cheeks are dusted pink, tainted both with embarrassment and the vulnerability of complete trust. “I'd like to try it.””

or, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian's first time on Taicang Mountain.

This is the direct sequel to the first fic but, like all the other fics in the “in your arms (i am loved)” series, it can totally be read as a standalone (it’s even the fourth fic I wrote because writing in chronological order? what’s that)

all yours (all mine) | rated E, 4.8k

Hua Cheng’s eye is dark; hungry as he looks at Xie Lian splayed bare for him, yet a tender adoration too great for words flows alongside it. Xie Lian tries for a moment to understand it, before deciding it doesn’t matter. Whether he does understand it or not, the result tonight will remain the same; they’ll have fun, and it'll make Heaven pale in comparison.

to have and to hold | rated T, 3.9k

“In a flash, Hua Cheng is undressed. Xie Lian’s eyes flick away from the scroll for a brief moment before returning to it, utterly unfazed.

Hua Cheng sits on the bed, poking at Xie Lian’s hand.

Getting no reaction, he takes it, kisses it, then pecks his way along Xie Lian’s arm and, upon reaching his shoulder, adds a bit of teeth. Xie Lian’s eyes remain resolutely set on his scroll, brows furrowing at a line of characters, relaxing at the next.”

or, leisure time at Taicang Mountain cottage doesn't quite go as Hua Cheng had hoped.

in you, i find myself | rated T, 1.7k

“Through the burning flush of his cheeks, Xie Lian thinks for a moment, interrupting his braiding to place a second bead. “So, towards everyone else. . . you’re like me, in some way?””

Big focus on asexuality in this one as it was written for International Asexuality Day! Also, demi Hua Cheng!

rhododendrons | rated M, 2.5k

“Gege, did you know bodies can grow flowers?”

or, Hua Cheng paints Xie Lian a body of flowers.

This is the sequel of another fic in which it’s only mentioned in passing, but reading it isn’t required to understand the sequel! This one also has demi Hua Cheng.

steady love (in a place we know) | rated T, 10.9k

Living and working out of his old van, Xie Lian has always travelled alone. When his best friend suggests they go on a trip together, he enthusiastically agrees—unaware that he's not only about to take Hua Cheng on an unexpected journey, but his own heart as well.

no ice left to break | rated T, 2.6k

““What are you thinking about?” Hua Cheng wondered, reaching out to wipe ice-cream off the corner of Xie Lian’s mouth.

He did it like he does everything else; gently, almost tenderly. As naturally as tugging on Xie Lian’s hand when he wants something, or blowing on a spoonful of broth so Xie Lian doesn’t burn his tongue before offering it to him.

“We should go on a date,” Xie Lian blurted.”

always like this, with you | rated G, 1.4k

Xie Lian sets down his halfway done sweater on his lap, and taps his chin thoughtfully. “So. . . from what you told me back then, you'd be demisexual. . . and I'd be greysexual?”

Obviously very ace focused since this was written for Ace Danmei Week! I wanted to do something different and wrote greyace Xie Lian for this one.

of simple, wondrous things | rated E, 21.1k

In a college that strongly prohibits sex on campus grounds, Xie Lian goes about his studies as a confused spectator of the struggles many students claim to be going through. But when his roommates enter a relationship and sneak out at night to escape the rules, Xie Lian's curiosity on the matter gets the best of him; expecting to be rejected, he contacts Hua Cheng, a sex worker who only accepts new clients by recommendation.

Yet, to Xie Lian's surprise, Hua Cheng doesn't refuse him.

A lot about being ace in there but this time in full story form rather than a short fic! Also has demi Hua Cheng. (as a note, this is not a college au despite what the summary might make you think)

That’s all! For now >:) I hope these fics can bring you as much joy as writing them brought me! <3

#hualian #tgcf #xie lian #hua cheng #asexuality #bee writes #last updated: march2022

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becausethathappens · 3 years

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in the past when i thought others might have gone through something similar to me enough that it was worth sharing for any collective good, i’ve felt compelled to do so. so, here i am again, on the off-chance it helps anybody else who feels the same. 😅

in case you’re like me and enjoyed the most recent ear biscuits (305), but got a little uneasy from some of the well-intentioned response.

labeling yourself as straight or gay or bi or anything does not make it a permanent label unless you want it to be yours.

like rhett mentioned he questioned it himself and stated that he’s open to revisiting should his circumstances change. same probably applies to link given what he gets up to on twitter any given day, i would presume. (this is a joke ✌️)

sometimes even reaffirming the importance that we should all respect one another’s labels can weirdly feel like a request to stop questioning labels at all, for some of us. maybe the ones who took extra long to work on ours, especially so. and to be clear i mean questioning our own labels, predominantly but i also don’t necessarily have the same reticence to suggest the same of others. i’ll try to elaborate as briefly as i can (not very).

at least for me, it can feel like a snapshot of what would have happened if you, as a queer person in whatever way, hadn’t kept questioning. i have called myself straight after i’ve had experiences with women. and presumed i was doing so earnestly, after having given it a college try. all the while cutting myself off from a community that was constantly begging me to reconsider. social pressure to marry a man made the prospect of dating a girl seem so unrealistic that it was goofy to be considered anything more than a tourist in the role, like co-opting something that doesn’t belong to me.

it really took a lot of introspection, as a decades long ally of LGBTQIA rights, genuinely, and repeatedly challenging my own ambivalence to preferring any gender, to realize i honestly cared nothing about that part of attraction at all. it was just easier to submit to what’s expected each time i was presented with a dichotomy. eventually, i had to break the dichotomy, not try to figure out why i felt i had such a long list of “exceptions” that warranted queer people thirst posts. it is not something that happens overnight. in a different life, maybe, i would’ve settled down and never had an opportunity to even figure that out without the right circumstances.

and that’s terrifying, for me, to relive even momentarily and certainly must be for others in much worse circumstances. being queer is one of the few redeeming traits about me, all told, even though the same can’t be said for everyone that uses that term. again, i just wanted to share that it’s not a bad thing to question yourself in the first place and definitely not bad to choose something else besides straight, if you don’t find that to be the right one for you.

i can’t speak to other queer people’s experience, but the times i publicly imply or joke that someone might be queer, as well, i only ever intend it to be the metaphorical equivalent of tucking a flower in someone’s hair. (otherwise, i make sure to use a proper disclaimer that it’s fictional.) to imply that people who are queer would use the suggestion that straight people are behaving in familiar, non-heteronormative ways as something pejorative is deeply hurtful to queer people, whether you are aware or are concerned about that at all. fear of being perceived as gay is usually something many queer people are actively working to reclaim for ourselves through our own trauma of these words and implications being used negatively against ourselves throughout history. if people think the balance between calling someone straight gay and calling someone gay straight is unfairly weighted in favor of gay people in this circumstance, then i hope they agree that we should normalize being gay to a point where there is no difference. currently there’s still a massive imbalance in countless ways, so i think that’s not really on the table for me. imagine a world where everyone was perceived gay, imagine how much safer it would be for queer people of all races and religions, then maybe you’ll see our perspective. though, i respect other queer people who feel differently about that word or any other. i reclaim the word queer or sashays or women in leather jackets or cuffed jeans or lingering touches to make it so those “indicators” are clearly meant to be seen as admirable and aspirational as i find them to be. i do not call people i don’t like queer, even if they’re acting in line with some stereotype that indicates it, for example. we just don’t always voice those complex feelings because it’s easier to be fun and camp with it. taking the bite away from the baggage of said labels in a faux pearl clutching “oh dear, a gay! on my dashboard. i’ve seen it all!” kind of way. it’s the same kind of taunts and "jokes” we received as children, much the way rhett talked about being bullied, but now it’s not meant in derision but veneration.

for my own blog, i want to clarify that there should be a perceived rhetorical difference, going forward, that i’m only ever talking about non-heteronormative behavior. i think joking that you’re acting out of our playbook or having some doubts is meant to be a nod of welcoming not challenge. it is for me. queer people offering me these coat pulls through the years is exactly why i kept questioning myself. so sometimes trying to split the two feels like cutting a lifeboat for undue weight. it’s possible, especially considering the circumstances these Particular Two are in, that this is excessive. but hopefully those outside the fold can understand why queer people are always going to assume someone might be queer on the off-chance they ever need someone to do that for them. it’s just the nature of my own orientation that being that way with multiple friends has ended with them confiding in me that they really don’t know. i will always be that person for you, or anyone, and i’m not going to stop that ever.

even if only to a fictional audience of two: it’s okay to change your mind at any point or keep revisiting the subject for days, weeks, years to come. in case no one else has ever said that, i always will. i enjoyed the episode on its own, but also for having the response it did bring up this issue for myself to sit with and process. bonus feature of bisexuality that i wasn’t aware of! constantly evolving.

i think that subverting the traditionally mainstream audience’s expectations that they will flinch when instructed to be close and intimate in these ways is what draws a lot of people to rhett and link. especially queer people who often see two tall guys with harnett county accents do the opposite every chance. i think they manage, more often than not, to punch up at those societal expectations and the kind of fans they’ve lost who insist they be anyone but themselves. they laugh with us at anyone who thinks they’re offended at being considered gay. or i imagine that they are trying their best to do so, even when they, themselves fall to the same preconceived notions or discomfort. then we can laugh at their own inability to rise to the occasion, they work on it, and try again until they get there. i think it’s very much two sides of the same coin, uplifting perceived queerness as part of the platonic ideal and relentlessly getting all fans to challenge their own expectations, in turn. that’s what works for me, in how i consume their content. if they are not intending these types of punch ups, obviously, that’s a different conversation and a different subject.

so, for the same reason, i don’t ever want them to mistake those from the queer community (or at least me, from the queer community) who they clearly care about, to be in any way one of those groups that rejects them for being open with us. being yourselves is not going to lose me as a fan, at least.

there’s no coincidence to me that this fandom brings in many sensitive, kind, passionate people who enjoy the routine of watching two life-long “best” friends goof around every day. it also draws in a similar many at stages in their lives, as well, who are seeking change, new ideas, or questioning things. question everything is literally link’s motto. semper curiosus. both related much the the same themes to their own challenges of faith, so i know they relate. there’s a whole george michael song, equating the two that shows the overlap is a bit predestined. (no one would think it’s wrong to check in with an evangelical person to see if they’re doubting god, when they seem to be talking a lot about evolution for an oversimplified silly example.) i’m glad they understand that allowing this community to remain creative is deeply helpful in people seeking a source of acceptance, openness, and new paths.

the main takeaway, for me, as rhett has said many times, is their continued support for one another’s and anyone else’s ongoing process of personal evolution. whatever that entails. people are constantly changing for a million different internal and external reasons. on the flip side, though, please understand, if ever people seem taken aback by anyone assigning some permanence to any label, if that person is queer, they may have had or still struggle to change or settle on their own at great personal cost and effort. seeing people pick a lane, as it were, can feel like you’re going about things incorrectly if you’re still changing between them yourself.

if you feel differently about this episode or these thoughts, i respect that as well. to each their own. i’m speaking from my own experience only.

it’s only because i know i would want someone to keep questioning my former certainty to get where i am that i can only ever bring myself to do the same for anyone else. so, for those of you that have struggled or are struggling: i see you and i’m proud of you, exactly where you’re at and wherever you end up, too.

#queer #questioning #soft gmm thoughts #this is way too long #sorry a lot to unpack #ear biscuits #.txt

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kyuuppi · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Kenma

Pairing: Kozume Kenma x Reader (gn)

Genre: fluff!

⚠️WARNING⚠️ possible manga spoilers (future careers)!

WC: 1.2k

“—has more DPS but really weak defense so I think we’ll be okay.”

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to giggle out loud and blow your cover when you enter the apartment and hear your boyfriend’s soft tone from the back room as he speaks to the fans diligently watching his live stream.

You tiptoe across the carpet, keeping a steady grip on the white box balanced in your hands as you navigate through the dark apartment, following the light source coming through the crack in the door. You hear the incessant keyboard clicks getting louder the closer you get to his office. The crack of the door is just large enough to see your boyfriend’s pale hands dancing swiftly across the keys and a portion of one of his monitors. You vaguely recognize the game as Overwatch, one of the games he has been playing more often lately. He had mentioned something about a Halloween loot box and new D.Va skin but you were hardly paying attention, to be honest. You just like hearing his calming voice sometimes, oblivious to that actual video game terminology he’s speaking about.

“Alright, one more match and I’ll switch to something else. It's getting late and the queue times are getting ridiculous.”

You stifle a chuckle just imagining the responses his fans must be giving him in the chatroom. From your experience occasionally watching Kodzuken’s streams yourself, you know there is likely a string of people begging him for ‘just one more game’ or ‘please play this one next!’

Kenma is well loved by his large fanbase and his own dedication to them is clear.

Despite today marking the gamer’s 23rd birthday, Kenma had refused to change his usual streaming schedule or even end early. He generally kept private information, including birthdays and relationships, a secret, claiming his fans were only interested in watching him play games, nothing more. How the man remains completely oblivious to the fact his fans are enamored with him rather than just his gaming skills remains a mystery to you and all of his friends. You are positive the fans would be absolutely flooding his social media with birthday wishes and gifts if they knew what today is.

But alas, Kenma refused any of you and Kuroo’s suggestions of nice dinners or small gatherings with friends, claiming he has to maintain his regular Friday streaming schedule and that his birthday is “just another day.”

Hence why you stand outside of the door of his office now.

With the help of his loyal (read: devious) best friend Kuroo, you were able to secure a copy of your boyfriend’s apartment keys and sneak in with a fresh apple pie you had pre-ordered from Kenma’s favorite local bakery. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat and lingering worries about his impending response before gingerly pushing open the door and stepping into the room.

With his headphones on and facing his screen, Kenma does not immediately notice your entrance. His slender fingers continue tapping keys and shifting the mouse rapidly as he shoots at enemies on the screen. It is only when he glances over at his second monitor to see the chat flying by with variations of ‘oh my god did someone just walk in,’ ‘there’s someone in his house!’ and ‘is that his s/o!?’ that Kenma realizes something is off and his head whips in your direction, clearly shocked to see you standing there.

You offer a sheepish grin as you step forward, slowly lowering the opened box in your hands so he can see the contents.

“Happy birthday, Kenma,” you sweetly cheer.

Unbeknownst to you both, the chatroom nearly crashed with the sheer volume of surprised messages. Naturally, they vary from ‘oh my god they’re so cute!’ to ‘TODAY IS KODZUKEN’S BIRTHDAY!?’

Kenma seems at a loss for a few moments, golden eyes darting back and forth between the warm apple pie in your hands topped with a single yellow candle to your bright, loving smile. Finally, his tense body seems to relax and a small smile graces his lips as he holds your gaze.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

He rises to his feet to gently take the box from your hands and place it on the desk, stream forgotten as he makes his way back to you. You tilt your head, just about to ask what he’s doing when he gently takes your hands in his own and places a soft peck on your lips. Your face heats up at the rare display of affection and the wide grin stretching across your face causes your cheeks to ache. For a few moments, as the two of you hold eye contact, it feels you are the only people in the world and you find yourself wanting to savor and carve this moment into your memory for the rest of your life. It is only the muffled robotic voice announcing “defeat” from Kenma’s headset that interrupts the moment, causing him to glance back at his set-up with a surprised expression, having clearly forgotten that he was in the middle of a match, let alone still recording a stream. Just by briefly looking over the chat he can tell his fans have half a million questions that will be plaguing his Twitter feed for weeks to come. Some fans are even asking for your social media handles and asking if you two will ever do a stream together.

Kenma sighs and returns to his chair, rolling forward to sit in front of his computer once more. You awkwardly linger for a moment, slightly disappointed to see your boyfriend returning to his work so soon. You understand, though. This is his career that he had built from the ground up for himself and your involvement was definitely not something he had planned for. With a slightly heavy heart you make a move to leave the room just as quietly as you had entered but Kenma’s hand shoots out to grab your own before you can take more than half a step.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to today’s stream but unfortunately I will have to end early to spend the rest of my birthday with my partner.”

Your heart stutters at his announcement.

The chatroom is once again flooded with comments, most of which are cooing about how cute Kodzuken is being and how uncharacteristically happy he looks now that you’re here. He pays them no mind however, and swiftly shuts down his streaming program and logs out of Overwatch with one hand, Halloween loot boxes long forgotten. Once his screen turns black and the flashy RGB lights of his computer dim, his cat-like eyes are back on you, lacing your fingers together and gently squeezing your hand.

“Do you want to do anything specific,” he asks.

The giggle that unwittingly escapes your lips sounds absolutely school girlish and you would be embarrassed if you weren’t too busy feeling absolutely elated.

“It’s your birthday, KenKen; you should be the one deciding.”

He looks away, thoughtful for a moment before his eyes shift back to you in question.

“...can we play Animal Crossing? You left your Switch here last time so I charged it.”

Even after a full evening of video games, Kenma still wants to play. His innocent passion leaves your chest feeling fuzzy and you nod your consent.

“Anything for you, Kenma.”

... ... ...

Happy birthday to my favorite pretty setter. ❤️

#the last line is literally me everyday simping kenma LOL #kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagine #anime imagine #anime scenario #kenma birthday #drabble #haikyuu scenarios #kenma headcanons #kenma imagines #kenma scenarios #kozume kenma #haikyuu!!#nekoma #kozume kenma x reader #streamer kenma #kodzuken x reader

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.7 (BAON)

Summary: Team Rescue is on the way...mostly. Look, they aren't good at names.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge had been on worse car rides, but not many. In fact, he could only think of one; riding in the backseat of his own car with Stretch unconscious in his lap, his life ticking away in decimals as Edge desperately clung to Blue’s instruction that he should think of healing magic as similar to making a hollandaise.

It wasn’t ridiculous if it worked and sitting here in this silent car, hyperfocusing on the mostly empty roads with Blue next to him radiating grim determination and Antwan in the backseat, Edge found himself thinking of hollandaise again.

The mental picture of the saucepan was strangely easing, keeping his turbulent thoughts occupied. In his memory, Blue’s voice was preternaturally calm as he reminded them that all the butter couldn’t be added at once because the mixture would break. Edge followed the direction coming from his phone as the voice assistant instructed him in its robotic way to turn left, (you need to add the butter a little at a time) turn right, (whisk it in), your destination is on the left.

It was only when he pulled into the empty parking lot as directed that the real Blue spoke, his high voice uncertain over the confidence of his imaginary twin, “Shouldn’t the security teams be here?”

“No,” Edge said disgustedly. He threw the car into park and pressed a knuckle between his eye sockets with painful force. “because this isn’t the right place.”

The dilapidated sign over the empty storefront declared with a spooky if faded cheer to be ‘Spirit Halloween’ but the only spirits in this place were the ghosts of customers’ past.

“My brother’s sense of humor,” Edge said, “he’s sending us a message. We went trick or treating behind his back and here’s his trick.”

“Of course it is,” Blue muttered, sinking back in the seat. His gloved hands were tight in his lap, a mirror to Edge’s grip on the steering wheel. “Papyrus probably warned him hours ago that I’d left home. He would have been ready for something like this.”

Edge picked up his phone, his bare thumbs moving with cautious swiftness over the screen. “Yes, he would. Which is why we’re going to follow the other tracker now.”

“Other tracker?” Antwan leaned over the driver’s seat to look at the new directions scrolling up the phone screen. His laughter was uncomfortable, more nerves than humor. “How many trackers do you have on your brother?”

Not as many as he has on me, Edge did not say. “On a normal day, only one.” Edge pulled back out onto the empty street, following the monotone drone of the GPS. “Sans set it up for me when Red pulled his little disappearing act after California and then reappeared to wreak havoc on my kitchen.”

“He did what?” Blue asked and Edge winced internally, barely keeping it from showing on his face. He wasn’t at his best, that much was certain, spilling secrets out in a spreading pool, but caring about that would have to wait. There were only so many directions he could pull his focus for now and Blue was hardly going to take out an advertisement in the paper if he heard anything he shouldn’t. A bit of gossip when it came to office relationships and the local scandals aside, Blue was one of their diplomats and he was well able to use appropriate discretion.

Hopefully, his definition of appropriate did not include asking Red any uncomfortable questions at a later date.

“It doesn’t matter. As I was saying, I usually have one tracker on my brother just in case he gets it into his head to face something he shouldn’t alone.” Edge didn’t quite roll through a red light. Better to not get pulled over by the Ebott police if he could help it, Embassy security certainly had enough on their hands right now without having to handle minor traffic violations. “Except, as I said, Sans gave it to me. Which means it’s only as accurate as Sans wants it to be and he has an unfortunate tendency to match my brother when it comes to deciding he knows what’s best for other people.”

A certain sourness fell over Blue’s expression as he nodded. As both a younger brother and a diplomat he was quite familiar with the ongoing irritation of overprotectiveness, even as he often did the same to his own brother.

“Which is why tonight I added my own tracker to Red’s jacket,” Edge said, “I would have followed that one first, but I was hoping not to reveal it so quickly if I could help it.”

Blue hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t think he’d be expecting that?”

“Of course, but I think he’d have a harder time finding and disabling it. Stretch made it for me.” The memory of his maniacal delight when Edge told him what it was for was briefly allowed, as well as his satisfied triumph when he presented Edge with a device that was the size of match head, tagged with near-microscopic hooks reminiscent of Velcro that were made to catch and cling to any fabric with a mere touch.

His design was with the Research and Development team now, minus the tracking device, as they worked to find a use for it that would allow for them to sell it to Humans, along with a dozen other things he’d created. So many of Stretch’s designs ended up that way, patents in which he was not named used as bargaining chips to help keep their coffers full. Stretch always declared that he didn’t work for the Embassy and that much was true. Instead, he worked for all of Monsterkind, that clever mind of his working to get them the funds they needed establish a place in this world. Only a handful of people even knew it and while Asgore could be foolishly soft-hearted on occasion, he wouldn’t considering paying a large ransom for any citizen on the street, even if they were married to Edge. Stretch was important past his twitter feed and it would be narrow not to suspect that these kidnappers somehow learned about it.

This time the tracker was leading them to the other side of town, down on the north side where the neighborhoods were filled with condemned houses and boarded up businesses. The only industry that thrived there were liquor shops whose windows were barred, manned by cashiers who spent their days behind a thick layer of bulletproof glass. His car was going to stand out like a sore thumb, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to waste anymore time by stopping at the Embassy to borrow something more discreet.

At least he could worry less about reprisals from rolling through stop sign; the Ebott police presence on this side of town was minimal.

They made their way through the empty streets without incident. It was late even for the criminal element and a glance down the alleyways they passed showed them filled with shadows that could have been trash cans or curled up humans sleeping amongst them.

Some of the children from the Y lived on this side of town. Actually, most of them did and some of them might well be sleeping on the street right now…no. He couldn’t think of that at this moment, one thing at a time. He couldn’t afford to have his attention ping-ponging around inside his head, not when their destination was in sight.

This time, there were plenty of cars parked in a semi-circle around the building, floodlights pouring from their windows and flashers circling on their rooftops. Embassy security teams were made up of Monsters and Humans, and there were plenty out there in their uniforms. The Ebott police were going to throw a fit about jurisdiction, of that he had no doubt, but that was going to be a tomorrow problem for the Legal department and their FBI connections.

One of the security personnel approached the car as Edge pulled up, both hands raised in a gesture that could either mean for them stop or for him to offer surrender. Edge rolled down his window and he ducked his head inside the car. “Sir, your husband and his friend are both fine,” he said without preamble. “This area is closed off, you should—”

“If you even suggest that I should leave, you’re going to be reassigned to the elementary school playground for the foreseeable future,” Edge said evenly.

To his credit, the guard’s expression did not change. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir. I was going to tell you to park over on the north side,” He pointed to a clearing off behind the other cars. “Your brother is waiting for you up at the entrance.”

“Of course he is,” Edge muttered. “I’m sure we’ve kept him quite entertained with his version of hide and seek.” But he obeyed the direction.

He parked a fair distance away from the circle of the security vehicles and got out of the car, Antwan and Blue at his heels. No one else approached, the rest of the security team keeping a respectable distance away out of either direction from their leaders or simple self-preservation.

Standing near the warehouse entrance and out of the glare of the floodlights was Red, burrowed into his jacket with a Styrofoam cup in his hand and a cigar smoldering between his teeth. As if warned by his instincts or, more likely, through the curling earpiece that was stuck into his audial canal, Red turned to them as they approached. His grin was irritatingly knowing and familiar, pleased as a punch to have held them off long enough that everything was finished but the cleanup.

And yet, it was also such a comfort to see that smirk that Edge nearly went weak at the knees. He wouldn’t be smiling that way if Stretch or Jeff were hurt, even his brother’s sadism had its limits.

“what took you so long, you stop for coffee?” Red snorted. He held up the Styrofoam cup. “coulda brought me some, the shit they’ve got here’d give battery acid a run for its cash.”

“Yes, of course, we got stuck in the drive-thru at Starbucks," Edge snapped. “You’ll forgive me for not bringing enough for everyone!”

Before he could even demand a report, Blue went on past him. Parking lot gravel scattered under his booted feet as he stormed up to Red and swatted the cup from his hands. He paid no mind to the coffee sloshing out over their shoes, his small fists knotting into Red’s jacket front as he hauled him in close to snarl out, “WHERE IS MY BROTHER?”

Even through layers of forced calm, Edge could still appreciate the sight. It was certainly an unusual one. Blue was shorter even than Red and he wore no oversized jacket to give his small frame an illusion of bulk. The overwhelming visual was that of a tabby cat attacking the local tiger and if it were anyone else, Edge might have tried to intercede. It was possible he could have saved their lives, if not their limbs, had it been anyone but their innermost circle.

As it was, he tensed until his brother said mildly, “easy on the threads, baby blue, this’s my favorite jacket. my only one, too. they’re still upstairs. they ain't hurt, so we're lettin' 'em come down in their own time. ain’t no need to rush ‘em. think they needed a mo’ to catch their breath, s’all."

Blue didn’t wait for another word. He let go of Red and turned to the building entrance, running towards it. No one tried to stop him, though Edge noted with approval that one of the security team peeled away from the others to follow him at a discreet distance.

Antwan looked as if he was considering chasing after Blue, but he hung back. With the suspicious nature of a good lawyer, he asked Red, "If they’re fine, why aren’t you with them?"

"sweet that you think me bein' there would be some kinda comfort," Red snorted. "already saw 'em. head on up if you want, we've already cleared away the rest of the honey bun’s little scooby traps." Red offered them a vicious slash of grin. "your liability might need a new rating, he's damn creative when he’s got a hair laid across his ass just right."

That was enough for Antwan. He headed off in the direction Blue had, leaving Edge alone with his brother.

Edge waited until Antwan disappeared before he asked, low, "Where are they?"

Red only looked at him with mild reproach. “toldja, upstairs. what, you think i’d bullshit you on that?”

“I don’t mean them.”

Red was shaking his head before Edge finished. “nuh-uh, nope, not a chance. you ain’t gettin’ a look at those asswipes outside a courtroom. you’re keeping your toes behind the yellow line on this one, sneaking backstage ain’t happening, little brother.”

“I need to see—" Edge began heatedly.

“you fuckin’ don’t. you want to see and your wants ain’t on the list, not this time!” Red lowered his voice, “i get you wanted firecrackers and this is endin’ on a wet fart for you, but i ain’t explainin’ to the honey bun that i stood here and let you add a fresh shovelful of xp to your load on his account. so whyn’t you head upstairs now and go get your liability, huh? take him home and let us handle this, you can read the report tomorrow, yeah?”

Suspicion filtered through Edge’s strained temper, cooling it. Something of his brother’s little speech rang wrong to Edge; it was too consolatory towards him for their normal tastes, something was off here. Now that he was looking at it without his frustrations clouding things, there was also the matter of him leaving Stretch and Jeff alone; comforting presence or not, it was difficult to believe that Red would let them out of his sight unnecessarily. As shrewdly as he could still manage, Edge took a closer look at his brother.

Red did not have any LV but that certainly didn’t mean he had no trauma. His tells were subtle, unnoticeable to anyone who hadn’t watched them develop straight from the gutter. Eye lights slightly narrower than normal, his cigar clenched between too-tight teeth, the rare crackle of crimson magic arcing across his fingertips like a stray bolt of lightning.

There was something Red wasn’t saying, but there was no point in trying to fish it out now; he’d need better bait and Edge already had one in the net to deal with.

Better to leave it as it was. Even if the issue festered, his brother was unlikely to allow it to affect his work. It was difficult not to lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder, however briefly. Edge resisted the absurd impulse. It would not be appreciated. Unwanted concern was more likely to make things worse.

Instead, Edge nodded curtly and headed for the entrance. His boots clacked loudly on the cement floors. Security was milling in the hallways, others crouching over scorch marks and a strange overflowing mass of what looked like multicolored foam oozing down one side of the stairwell. Superfluous information, none of it mattered. He followed the subtle cues from the security personnel, the glances and occasional points that came without questions leading him up the rickety stairs to the second floor of offices and storerooms.

On the landing, a low sound caught his attention, a familiar voice crooning softly. Edge nearly skidded to a stop outside one of the rooms, looking in the open doorway to see the Swap brothers sitting together on the floor, holding each other tightly.

“hey, bro, shh, i’m okay. they didn’t hurt us, sans, i’m fine,” Stretch was saying. Blue was in his lap, clinging like the child he no longer was, and Stretch was rubbing a gentle hand down his brother’s back, leaving behind sooty streaks. He looked up, soft white eye lights catching on Edge still standing in the doorway. His cheekbones were wet, his wide sockets drowning in tears. Stretch scrubbed his face with the sleeve of a shirt that was not his own and managed a tremulous smile. "hey, handsome, miss me?"

He’d seen Stretch only hours ago, dressed in clothing stolen from Edge’s side of the closet and offering flirtatious kisses before walking out their front door. Now he was in baggy clothing that belong to neither of them, the shirt nearly hanging off his narrow shoulders and his bare legs sticking out from the bottoms of the too-short pants to leave the delicate bones of his feet filthy and exposed. All of him was filthy, his pale tears left clean tracks down his cheekbones and Edge did not know what Stretch had done to free them both, what he’d endured until he could., couldn’t begin to imagine it. Or perhaps he simply did not want to, and the precariously thin layer of Edge’s calm finally began to crack. All his desperate worries surged in through that first line of weakness to fill his face and then downward to soak into his aching soul.

"Don't—" Edge choked on the word, unsure what he was even going to say. Don't joke, don't dismiss this, don't ever leave me. He walked over and fell to his knees beside them, hardly feeling the warning jolt from his leg as he pulled them both into his arms rougher than he'd meant. Unnecessary, Stretch came easily, willingly, settling into his embrace exactly as if he belonged there, and brought his brother along for the ride.

"hey, i'm okay," Stretch said, pitching his voice for them both. He rested his forehead against Edge’s, settling a gentle hand on his sharp cheekbone with a sigh. "we’re okay, babe. it's okay."

"It is not okay by any stretch of the imagination,” Edge said hoarsely. His own hands were moving over Stretch, cautious of his lack of gloves even as he convinced himself that this was no dream, these well-loved bones were real. “And if you make a pun on that, you can ride home with my brother."

“wouldn’t joke about it, babe.” Then Stretch promptly made it a lie as he teased, “hope i get extra credit for not stretching things out, actually, ‘cause i sure didn’t get my ‘stay out of trouble’ badge tonight.”

“Pappy,” Blue moaned. His grip in the awful shirt Stretch was wearing twisted as if his disgust needed a physical outlet, “honestly, must you?”

Edge barked a laugh, hard and pained, but in his soul there was only giddy lightness. “No, you certainly did not. I would say any claim that you didn’t find trouble would be stretching things.”

Another groan from Blue was interrupted by a scuffing sound behind them. Edge jerked around, but it was only Antwan holding Jeff in his own tight embrace, whatever whispers between them too low to be heard. Edge hadn’t even noticed them when he first came in and the faint guilt from that was too small to be borne, already swallowed up in overwhelming relief.

Safe, they were both safe and unharmed, and Edge set his anger back, holding it in reserve. No matter what his brother thought, this was not over, and he would not be relegated to the injured group to recover, not this time.

But first, he was taking his love home.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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spyder-m · 3 years

Text

Zerith - "Sanctuary", Ch. II

Prev | Next | FF.net | AO3 | Twitter

Summary: As Cloud recovers, he and Zack settle into a new life in Midgar. Zack hears about some work being available in a bar with a strangely familiar name. The job, however, turns out to be much more dangerous than he initially thought.

Chapter II: "Hidden In Plain Sight"

Having grown accustomed to carrying Cloud around in a catatonic state, the scene before Zack was taking some time to adjust to.

The sight of his friend's eyes completely open and focused, as he nodded and occasionally hummed in agreement while Aerith spoke animatedly to him. The action was familiar and deeply reassuring to Zack; something so inherently Cloud, proving that he hadn't lost touch with himself.

Though, he hadn't said much, too busy downing spoonfuls of the soup Aerith had offered. Zack couldn't blame him. Even after such prolonged inactivity, his body would have been starved.

The few words he had managed though, had come out hoarse and strained.

It was perhaps why Zack was still apprehensive to leave. Aerith, however, pressed the issue of Zack getting some much-needed rest, reminding him of the promise he made. Her efforts, this time, were made all the more effective, as she had Cloud siding with her; levelling Zack with a hard stare.

Ultimately, he agreed, begrudgingly, but was still reluctant to take shelter in the Community Centre; voicing as much to Aerith.

As usual, he kept his reasons for wanting to lay low quiet. Though, at this point, it seemed obvious. With the condition she'd found them in, the way they were dressed, and Zack's Buster Sword resting in the corner of the room, it was obvious that they had been in Soldier. Still, he didn't particularly want to get into the details.

For the time being, hiding out seemed like the best idea. Once they'd settled in for a couple of days, found a change of clothes and were certain that there weren't any Shinra squadrons scouring the streets for them, they could risk going out into the public more.

“Well, you can’t hide out in this Clinic forever,” Aerith said. “You’re going to need to find a proper place to stay.”

Zack sighed with a dip of his head, knowing Aerith was right. While they had been unable to arrive undetected after-hours, the clinic would re-open again tomorrow, likely bringing a slew of new patients in need of treatment. It was hardly an optimal place to stay out of sight.

Aerith frowned. She wished she could have helped more. Though, she didn’t think her mother would be impressed if she were to bring a Soldier home with her, unannounced. As early as her teenage years, she could recall Elmyra telling her to steer clear of Shinra, particularly those in the military.

Perhaps it was out of concern for her safety, but Aerith also sensed it may have stemmed from her mother's own loss. Her husband had died during the Wutai War, and it was likely she did not want to see her daughter have a similar fate befall someone close to her.

Weighing her options, Aerith's gaze landed on the small bouquet of flowers she'd left by Cloud's bed, her eyes widening as the thought struck her.

"I know! How about the Church? There’s plenty of room there."

Zack blinked, the suggestion not one he had expected.

“The Church? Are you sure that wouldn't be a problem?”

“Not at all. They actually provide shelter to a lot of people without places to stay.”

“So, there might be others around?” Zack answered, voice downtrodden.

"Hm, that's true. Although, there’s always the attic.”

"The Attic?"

"Yeah, no one ever goes up there, so you should be fine."

"I dunno, Aerith. It seems risky."

"It can’t be any more dangerous than just doing nothing. Come on, at least let me show you."

Soft hands caught Zack by the forearm, tugging insistently. He could have easily resisted the pull but found himself leaning into it, wanting to prolong the touch. Startled briefly by the spark left from the contact, Aerith flashed him a gentle smile.

Zack felt his stomach flutter, warmth flooding in his cheeks. He’d always thought of himself as someone outgoing, inclined to share intimate space and contact with those close to him.

Yet, for all his charm, he still possessed the psyche of a much younger, more naive man. He suddenly found himself garbled and awkward in the close presence of this kind, charming and incredibly attractive woman. Someone who, in a sense, was older and more experienced than him.

Fortunately, Aerith didn't seem to notice, her gaze flickering over her shoulder as they left.

"Bye, Cloud. Hope you're feeling better tomorrow."

His nerves settled by the passing farewell Aerith offered his friend. Pace slowing, Zack stooped by the foot of the bed, taking the time to properly say goodbye to Cloud.

"I'll make sure to be back first thing, okay buddy?

Cloud's hand lifted in a languid wave, the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips as he studied them. Zack's eyes narrowed, sensing an insinuation behind the gesture, but unsure of what to make of it.

By the time they finally arrived at the Church, most of the patrons had already filed out for the evening. It was perhaps why Aerith had insisted they could take the main route there without being seen, despite Zack’s misgivings.

Though, she must have noticed the tension still weighing upon him as they made their way there. As she would mention, offhandedly, a detour that could be taken across the rooftops that led straight to the Station; completely out of sight.

The advice did help to calm Zack. Though, at the time, he didn’t wonder too much about why she would know of such a route, or considered the possibility that she too, may have been in hiding. Even if he had, it wouldn’t have been fair for him to pry. Not when he was keeping secrets himself.

Like many places underneath the plate, the Church was in a state of disrepair. Much of the roof had collapsed in, there were several chips in the brick and stone lining the insides, and the pews were held together by rotting wood. Though, the building's dilapidated state, somehow, was a comfort to Zack, as he suspected that there weren’t many services being held there, or people stopping by to pray. Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult to hide out here, after all.

In the middle of the room, he noticed large indents and openings in the floorboards, nesting different beds of flowers. Surprisingly, they looked healthy and in full bloom, despite the harsh, surrounding conditions.

Those must be the ones Aerith was talking about, Zack thought, amazed to find such vibrant nature flourishing underneath the plate.

He didn't think plant life could survive without direct sunlight, even with the many openings in the roof. Still, he supposed it reflected many of the Slums' citizens. People who endured and thrived to their fullest, even underneath great hardship.

He couldn't admire the garden for long though, as Aerith's voice pierced through his reverie, guiding him back to where she stood at the base of the stairs.

She led him the last of the way to the attic, beckoning, every so often with a wave of her hand. Zack chuckled, finding her enthusiasm infectious.

The space at the end was filled with unused furniture, boxes and barrels, tools and other nick-nacks spread about. There were gaps in the old roof where moonlight filtered through, painting the room in an ethereal glow.

“Here we are,” Aerith announced, arms stretching out. “Sorry, it’s a little cluttered…”

“No, it’s great,” Zack said. He glanced around before unfastening the Buster Sword from his back, setting it down in the corner. He massaged his shoulder pensively. After having carried the weight for so long, it felt strange to be without it.

"It could be a little more homely though," Aerith said, eye scanning each corner. "I could've sworn there was a mattress around somewhere. “Ah! Here it is."

The mattress was worn and bulky, propped against one of the walls. Her fingers clawed at the fabric, trying to pull it down, unsteadily.

"Oh. Here, let me help you with that," Zack said, moving beside her to ease the load.

He stood behind her reflexively, hands finding purchase just above hers. The top of her head resting just underneath his, a dizzying, flowery scent permeating his nostrils.

Zack dipped his legs before he could become too distracted, lowering the mattress upon the floor, a touch faster than necessary.

"Phew, thank you."

“Don’t mention it.”

His bedding arranged for the evening, Zack propped himself against the mattress, testing its softness. After weeks of finding sporadic (sleep) with only the ground under him, Zack was pulled under almost immediately, unable to remember a time he had felt so comfortable.

Aerith scrounging through some of the other piles of clutter.

“Why don't you take a shower while I get you set up? You look like you could use it.”

Zack smirked. Despite knowing that she hadn’t meant for her words to be curt, he couldn’t resist the chance to tease her back. His silence eventually drew Aerith’s attention as she looked his way. He lifted an eyebrow, completely unmoving. She froze, her earlier words eventually registered.

“Wait. No. Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“It’s okay,” Zack laughed. “You’re not wrong. Besides, a shower sounds great.”

Aerith turned to examine one of the boxes beside her, hoping that it would hide the blush lightly dusting her features.

“I- it's just downstairs. I’ll see if there's something you can change into.”

The water wasn’t the cleanest but felt heavenly as it washed over Zack’s tired muscles.

He lost track of how long he stood underneath the stream, finding he needed to devote a great deal of time and effort to scrub away the stubborn grit and dried blood clinging to his skin. It seemed much heavier than any mere dirt, holding the memory, the strain of their escape.

The rain that had doused him as he covered the last distance into the city could only cleanse so much.

By the time he finally felt purged of all the rot that marred him and shut the shower off, the water had long since turned cold.

Towelling down, Zack caught his reflection in the mirror, startled by the sight. The sharper lines of his face, his hair; somehow even longer and more unkempt than usual. It was disconcerting. Having been unconscious amidst the fallout of Sephiroth’s rampage, it hadn’t seemed as if much time had passed at all.

He wondered how long it had really been, how much older he really was.

The dread did not have long to fester in his mind, as he could make out the soft padding of approaching footsteps, followed by a light knock at the door.

Fastening the towel around his waist, Zack lingered a moment before opening the door, finding a small pile of clothes resting at his feet.

Zack turned back to his old uniform, splayed in a torn, bloody heap by the sink.

Though he had been relieved to finally strip the burden it carried from his body but didn’t know if he could bring himself to actually throw it away.

It was all that remained of some of his most important memories; his time in Soldier, Angeal’s teachings; yet was also tainted by that horrific night in Nibleheim, the experiments Hojo subjected him to.

For now, though, he would graciously accept the luxury of a fresh, change of clothes.

As he made his way back to the attic, he found the mattress already laid neatly out for him; a light sheet covering it. Aerith, however, was nowhere to be found, perhaps wanting to give him some privacy?

Though he appreciated the gesture, Zack couldn’t help the pang of disappointment, having wanted to wish her good night and thank her for one last time.

Maybe it was his fault? After he’d been so secretive. She might have felt the need to keep a measure of distance between them.

Zack sunk heavily into the mattress, relieved to be taking the weight off of his feet. It was refreshing. The clean, albeit ill-fitting clothes and fresh linen seemed alien; a simple comfort he had forgotten.

Staring up, catching what he could of the night sky through the gaps in the ceiling, Zack's hands slipped behind his head, finding himself overcome by a flurry of thoughts.

Despite the fatigue that had clouded him earlier, sleep did not come easily to Zack. With the hush that washed over him, as he was grounded in the solid, secure warmth of the covers, he became preoccupied instead by the chance to reflect on and process everything that had happened.

Sephiroth; the man he had respected, who had been a friend to him; had lost his mind. Burning down Midgar, killing several innocent people. Shinra, the company he had given so much of himself to, was out for his life. As far as he could tell, he had lost years of his life to a madman, confined to a tube and experimented on.

It was all too much to take in, questions bursting forth one after the other.

What had become of Nibelheim? Were there even any survivors? Tifa? Master Zangan? Cloud's mother? It had been such a small, remote town. If no one had gotten out alive and Shinra kept the incident under wraps, would anyone even know that it was gone?

Had the news gotten out to his parents? Did they think he was dead? It had been a while since his last letter. Even if Shinra were keeping things quiet, they must have been worried.

Growling in frustration, Zack turned onto his side, furrowing deeper into the mattress.

Before, Zack had felt as though he was starting to get his life together, driven by relatively straightforward goals concerning his rank and place in the company. With enough hard work, he had hoped to one day afford a nice place above the plate for himself. Maybe even with enough room for his parents if they were interested in moving to the city. Ultimately though, his reasons for joining Shinra had been simple. He wanted to be a hero, to help those in need.

Now, though, he felt as though all of that had been ripped away. He hadn’t been able to help anyone in Nibelheim, to stop Sephiroth. Though he had managed to rescue Cloud, it still left him with doubts as to whether he could truly call himself a hero. Right now, he didn’t know if could stomach returning home. He worried that a backwater town like Gongaga would serve to remind him of Nibleheim, of those he hadn’t been able to save.

Perhaps there was something he could do to repent; helping the people in the Slums, clearing his conscience of the lives that he felt indirectly responsible for having been lost.

Maybe then, he'd be able to return home, show his face to his parents and clear his name.

Zack wasn’t entirely sure where things would go from here, but he resolved to make amends, taking each day as it came.

Zack's blade struck the last of the Wererats, their body disintegrating as it returned to the Lifestream. With that eerie green energy dissipating, Zack's eyes closed, feeling it wash over him; the defeat giving him strength.

Swiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he slung the Buster Sword back over his shoulder, bending slightly at the knees to try and catch his breath.

It was strange. Despite having been caught in many battles over their journey back into Midgar, he somehow felt rusty. His movements were noticeably slower and more sluggish than usual.

Perhaps Aerith had been right about his need to rest. Now that that adrenaline and will to protect Cloud had faded, Zack became completely aware of just how much strain his body had endured making it back to the city. He was still recovering now, trying to regain his full strength.

Perhaps it was good that they were lacking in gear. If he'd charged head-first into a battle with a dangerous enemy, it might have ended badly for him.

It didn't help that the air felt heavier in the Slums, as if the plate was bearing down, suffocating them.

“I think that’s the last of them," Zack said, once he felt he'd recovered. He turned, facing back toward the main hub of Sector 5, thankful that it wasn't too far.

Zack hadn't wanted to venture off the main roads too much, knowing of the machinery and monsters that roamed them delivering deadly attacks from the skies. Without magic or ranged weapons, they would be difficult to topple.

Instead, he'd kept close to the town's outskirts, just in case he wore himself out fighting.

“Alright,” Zack exclaimed, cocking his fist. “Time to collect.”

“You know if I was working too we’d be earning twice as much money, right?”

Zack rolled his eyes as he re-entered the attic, finding Cloud sprawled out over his mattress, hands stretched behind his head and legs crossed; one foot tapping against his calf.

From his body language it was obvious he was restless from being cooped up inside all day, brimming with unexerted energy.

Cloud had been discharged from the Clinic and taken accommodation in the Church roof alongside Zack. Despite clear instructions from the doctor to take it easy, he was adamant about also taking on hunting jobs.

It fell, unfortunately, to Zack to ensure that he followed the doctor’s orders.

“Maybe so," Zack answered, setting down the small stack of Gil he'd collected. "But I’m not letting you fight without a weapon, and that might be a ways away. Guns don’t seem easy to come by in the Slums, so I can’t imagine they’ll be cheap.”

It was the one crucial detail Zack had overlooked when deciding they should take on mercenary work. Outside of the Buster Sword, they didn’t have any weapons or materia to their name. Unfortunately, this greatly limited what jobs they could feasibly accept, as certain more powerful enemies would be difficult to combat without magic.

It made him wonder what had happened to the gear he'd kept back in his quarters at Shinra HQ? Had his place been completely ransacked once he'd been declared missing? It was frustrating knowing that most of their problems could easily be solved if he could somehow just get his hands on it. He had thought of trying to get in touch with Cissnei, but she had already stuck her neck out by pretending not to have found them. He wasn’t sure it would be fair to ask more of her.

Sadly, it seemed like they didn't have much choice.

They were going to have to save and steadily rebuild their equipment stash.

“I wouldn't want a gun anyway,” Cloud protested, stubborn. “You know I fight better with a sword.”

Zack blinked, taken aback by Cloud's response. It wasn’t something he’d thought of.

He supposed he had just grown accustomed to Cloud using a rifle. He was a great shot. But, it made sense that he would want to use a sword. Now that they were no longer part of Shinra, they weren’t operating under any specific codes and weren’t restricted to using only one particular weapon based on their rank.

Besides, no matter the tests or regulations, Cloud had already proven himself worthy of the lauded Soldier position, in Zack’s eyes. Back in Nibelheim, he had not only managed to survive being impaled by the Masamune, but had overpowered and beaten Sephiroth, something that not even Zack had been able to do.

Not to mention, he had also noticed recently that; while Cloud had always kept in good shape thanks to his training; his arms and chest seemed to be swollen with muscle, more so than usual. That was odd, considering his recent inactivity. Could it have been an effect of the Mako?

“That’s fair,” Zack nodded. “Hell, after what we’ve been through, I’d be happy to never look at another gun ever again… Still, we need to prioritise getting the money together for an Inn first. We can’t keep staying in this Church. Aerith’s already done enough favours for us as it is.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Cloud snorted. “I thought you were going to take her on a date to make up for it?”

“Well, yeah, but that still doesn’t mean- Wait?! How do you know about that?!”

“Uh, I was still conscious, Zack. I could hear everything you guys were saying.”

“Oh.”

Zack flushed, not having realised. He had spoken to Cloud often over their journey into Midgar. Partly to starve off his own impending feelings of loneliness and helplessness, but also in the hope that offering encouraging words might help to keep his friend’s strength and spirits high.

In a way, it pleased to know that his voice had gotten through to him, perhaps given him some semblance of hope.

But still, Zack thought, his head ducking. It’s a little embarrassing.

He couldn’t believe Zack had been

“What’s the matter?” Cloud asked, noticing “Don’t you like her?”

Zack’s head whipped back and forth, wildly. It wasn’t that. As a matter of fact, he liked her quite a lot.

“Come on, Zack," Cloud urged. "Another day here won't hurt. When we're pulling in twice the money, we'll be able to rent a room in no time. There might even be enough left over for you to get Aerith something nice-.”

“Fine, fine,” Zack relented, more out of necessity to stop Cloud speaking than anything else. “You can come with me tomorrow and we’ll see how you manage, alright? Happy?”

“Overjoyed.” Cloud drawled.

“We'll probably have to hit up another sector, though. It seems like we’ve already taken most of the jobs we can around here.”

If he was being honest, Zack had actually planned to head out the Slums beyond Sector 5 that afternoon. He’d heard word there was a Neighbourhood Watch program and he might be able to find work there.

"If you think so,” Cloud said, before tossing a yellow orb to Zack. “Here, I think it’s Chakra materia, but I can’t really tell without being able to equip it. I found it downstairs.”

“You’ve really scoped the place out, huh?”

Cloud shrugged.

“It’s not like there’s much else to do.”

“Well, thanks,” Zack replied, slotting the materia in place on his Sword. “That should really make a difference.”

Zack stopped by Sector 7 in the early afternoon; the train giving easy passage without him having to fend off some of the wild's stronger varmint.

Asking around town, he was soon directed to Wymer; who tracked requests that came through the Neighbourhood Watch. The man seemed eager to accept any help that was offered.

The first job on the agenda was clearing out monsters in Scrap Boulevard, a junkyard built atop a series of hills and caves just to the west of the sector’s housing blocks. Monsters often took to making themselves at home there, so it was a regular source of work, and, apparently, the ones who normally attended to it were busy.

Zack, however, was keen to volunteer, seeing it as a good way to gain the trust and attention of the locals and in turn, find more jobs for himself. It didn’t hurt that, on top of the payment in gil, Wymer told him he was free to keep any loot he came across, whether it be dropped by one of the many critters he encountered or hidden amongst the junk.

Zack would grin as he stumbled across an orb of ice materia in one of the caves, pleased that between he and Cloud they were already amassing a small collection of Materia. He wondered if it would be a good idea to invest in a bangle. Even if something cheap, it would at least allow Cloud to fight with magic for the time being.

Finding the place crawling with Gorgers, Cloud's Chakra materia also quickly proved beneficial, as Zack was able to shake off the poisonous attacks levelled at him, striking each down with a swipe of his sword.

After clearing the area, noting with satisfaction that it didn’t prove as tiring as earlier; Zack returned to Wymer to collect his pay.

Wymer was pleased as he handed over the Gil, and Zack expressed his interest in returning tomorrow, mentioning Cloud and asking if he knew of any other jobs the Watch needed help with.

“Hmm," Wymer drawled, hand stroking his chin. "Well, if you’re up for something other than fighting, I remember Barret mentioning something about needing help installing water filters.”

Inwardly, Zack's spirits were dampened, somewhat. The prospect of doing manual labour seemed dull. He especially couldn't imagine Cloud, who had been desperate to see some action, would be thrilled.

Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed. They would just have to gut it out until they could afford some decent gear. Besides, it might be a chance to pick up some new skills. If they really wanted to be mercenaries, they were going to have to get used to taking on all kinds of tasks.

His mind made up, Zack nodded.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great! You can stop by Seventh Heaven to let him know you’re interested.”

“Seventh Heaven?” Zack lifted a brow, curious.

“Oh yeah, it's the bar in the middle of town,” Wymer answered, his hand lifting to point out a large wooden building. Zack's eyes followed, widening at the sign that boasted its name in giant, bold letters.

The sight woke a spark of hope within Zack, a memory returning deep from within him. Seventh Heaven had been a name he had suggested offhandedly, to a carpenter in the slums. A man who spoke about wanting to open a bar in Sector 7.

While Zack did have doubts as to whether or not the man would remember him, but it was a chance he felt compelled to take. Perhaps he might be willing to offer work or a helping hand to a familiar face? Bars needed security, right? Who better than an ex-Soldier?

It would make for a good lead, at least, Zack decided, making his way toward the entrance.

Tifa was surprised to hear a knock at the door, knowing that there were still a few more hours before the bar would open for the day.

At first, she didn’t pay it much thought, suspecting it may have just been someone from out of town; most locals knew their hours, after all.

Still, she had been in the middle of a meeting with Barret, Wedge, Biggs and Jessie, discussing plans for their first official mission as Avalanche.

For that reason, she may have been slightly more on edge than usual.

"Just a moment," she called, before her eyes flickered back toward Biggs and Jessie.

The silent gesture was instruction enough and the group were quick to clear the table of any incriminating documents. Crude maps of the Reactor, lists of passcodes for the different doors and elevators they would need to breach, blueprints for Jessie’s bomb, all slipping out of sight.

As a final precaution, Tifa opted to keep the deadbolt clasped on the door, glancing through the peephole.

Her body tensed up as she made out the stranger’s dark clothes, the large sword perched at his back, that told her they weren’t stopping by for a drink. Though, most crucially, it was the unnatural glint in his eyes that set a tightness in her throat.

It was a Soldier.

Tifa felt her heart throng unsteadily, a sweat breaking out over her flesh. Had Shinra managed to sniff them out already?

She knew the company had a presence in the Slums, but to send down a Soldier? She supposed it made sense. After the assassination attempts that had been made on President Shinra, they must have been taking drastic measures to snuff out anything even loosely associated with Avalanche.

She took a steady, calming breath. No, that couldn’t be it. There was no reason for Shinra to suspect them. Their sector of Avalanche hadn't even made its first major move yet, no evidence that could possibly trace them back here. This must have just been a routine surveillance.

She hoped that Jessie hadn't been speaking with Johnny again. She should have known better. He could never keep anything to himself.

Eventually, Tifa unlatched the door, dragging it open just enough to speak through the crack. Her eyes narrowed, features set in a hard, impassive mask. Enough, hopefully, to mask her initial flood of panic.

"May we help you?"

“Oh,” the man answered. “I, uh- I was just new in town. I heard that you had some work available here.”

Tifa blinked, her façade almost slipping at his response. Perhaps she had been wrong. Shinra tended to be more upfront when ransacking a place, brandishing weapons and making demands, yet he… he was asking about jobs? Was that supposed to be some kind of cover? She cleared her throat, steeling herself before replying once again.

“I’m sorry, but you heard incorrectly.”

“Oh. Okay. Would you happen to know of anywhere else that is looking?”

Before he could get an answer, Zack stumbled back, as the door was abruptly and forcefully thrown open, a large figure stepping out. Zack wasn’t short by any means, but this man had a few inches on him and glared down with a menacing look.

As if his imposing physique was not startling enough alone, a large gun sat in place of his right arm. Zack's eyes widened briefly.

“You heard the lady,” he growled. “Now get your sorry ass outta here. We don’t take kindly to Shinra around these parts.”

From the palpable contempt in the man’s voice and eyes, Zack suspected that word must have gotten out of the massacre in Nibleheim; the reputation of the once-lauded war hero, Sephiroth, being disgraced.

Right now, he could imagine Shinra wasn’t exactly popular amongst certain pockets of the city. Still, it left an unsettling feeling in Zack's gut, to be tarnished with that guilt by association, particularly when the tragedy had scarred him just as much.

Yet, he knew he couldn’t let it discourage him. Perhaps if he continued to forge a name for himself around these parts, they might be more accepting of him in the future.

For now, though, it didn’t seem as though this guy could be reasoned with. While Zack was confident he could hold his own in a fight he didn’t want things to escalate to that level. It wouldn’t do any favours for his fledgling reputation as a Merc. Particularly when they already seemed to hold him in a negative light.

He would just have to continue working around the Sector. If he made more of a name for himself, they might be willing to work with him.

“Alright,” Zack said, hands lifting as he turned away. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Wait a minute, Zack?!”

Zack almost stumbled, shocked to have heard his name.

Turning, he noticed someone approaching; the woman who had spoken to him from behind the door.

Initially, his eyes furrowed, not recognising her. Yet, as she stopped before him, he found himself placing those distinct, red eyes in a flood of memories. Perhaps, most significantly, stricken with tears as they narrowed upon in pain and anger.

“Tifa?!”

His failure to recognise her was yet a testament to the time Zack had lost. As before him, was Tifa Lockhart; no longer a teenager, but a young woman. Taller, with longer hair, lean muscle lining her arms and legs.

Zack was shocked. Last he could remember, Tifa had been struck down by Sephiroth in Nibleheim’s reactor. Beyond that, her fate had been unknown to him.

He had never expected to meet her here, on the other side of the planet.

“What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, the man with the gun-arm was quick to interject.

“You know this punk?”

Eyes darting between the two, Tifa bit her lip. She looked to Zack, expression sheepish, apologetic, but permeating warmth as it held him.

“I- it’s a long story… Would you like to come in?”

Zack sat at the bar, nursing a drink he hadn’t touched; in his own mind, still not legally old enough to drink.

He was stewing in awkward, uncomfortable silence as he waited for Tifa; feeling the other three, at their own table, scrutinising him from a distance. They exchanged hushed, eager whispers; obviously curious about him, but apprehensive to approach or even ask any questions. Zack sighed.

He had been surprised to find that the pinball machine perched by the wall was actually the trigger for a makeshift lift, leading to a hidden underground floor.

From their earlier conversation and the wariness with which they'd addressed him, Zack got the impression this group may have had some sort of grudge against Shinra. Even though he hadn't been around long, no one else had looked at him with some disdain before.

Immediately his thoughts were drawn back to posters he had seen dotted around the Slums, just outside the station. Decrying Shinra and their Mako Reactors for draining the planet of its lifeblood. Could it be that these guys were involved with Avalanche?

Once Tifa had recognised him, that hostility was quick to fade. She invited him inside for a drink, insistent, before dragging the large, fuming man; Barret, apparently; downstairs for a discussion.

That was what led him here, having to act as though he couldn't hear the two talking about him; despite Barret's booming voice carrying distinctly up to the bar.

“What good’s gonna come from working with one of Shinra’s lap dogs?!”

“We could use his help! He was part of Shinra, so he should know his way around and what kind of threat the security will pose. What if we haven’t covered all of our bases?”

“I don’t know, Tifa. I don’t like it. How can you be so sure he isn’t still working for them?”

“He was asking about jobs, wasn’t he? Besides, he was there… that night in Nibelheim. I’d hope that after the things that he saw, he wouldn’t want to be a part of Shinra anymore.”

“Tifa…”

“Just this once, for me? We can let the reactor job be a trial-"

Zack cursed, as their voices lowered into soft murmurs.

The brief snippets he had caught of their conversation were already cause for alarm. Tifa had brought up asking for his help, how his past experience with Shinra and how it would come in useful. To top it all off, he had even said something about a reactor.

There was no question in his mind now. Tifa, Barret, her friends, were all part of Avalanche. They were planning an attack against Shinra, soon, and wanted to get him in on it.

Already, Zack found himself overcome by the urge to leave the bar, knowing he couldn't risk involving himself with them. Everything he had done up to this point had been to keep himself and Cloud safe from Shinra’s clutches.

This would only put them in danger once more.

Suddenly anxious to take some of the edge off, Zack lifted his drink to his lips and swallowed greedily. Almost immediately, he set the glass back down with a grimace. The liquid was bitter and left a burning sensation in his throat. He swore he heard one of the guys stifling a laugh at the other table.

With a flush, Zack's face lowered dipped, hovering just above the rim of his glass. He was reminded, once more, of how his appearance did not reflect his experience, his tolerance; or lack thereof; for alcohol. Even back at Shinra, he had only been a teenager and could never join the older Soldiers whenever they went out to Wall Market for drinks.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer, as the lift pulled back up into the bar. Zack turned on his stool, eyes following Tifa as moved behind the bar. Barret, on the other hand, kept him at a distance. He sat beside the others, folding his arms with a huff.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Still at a loss for and words, Zack simply shrugged, prodding Tifa to continue.

“Right. Well, Barret and I were talking and... On second thought, we could actually use your help, after all.”

Zack’s shoulders stiffened. Based on their conversation downstairs and the hesitance in Tifa's voice, his suspicions were right. Clearly, she was about to ask something major of him, something dangerous.

Swallowing, Zack offered, what he hoped, was an out.

“With the water filters, right?”

Tifa tried to smile, but it appeared more as a forced, uncomfortable grimace.

“Not exactly. See… We’re going to bomb a reactor.”

#ffvii #final fantasy vii #zerith #cloti #zack lives au #fanfiction

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

The Nut Jeans

⇢ and beyond timeline (after crystallised)

[saga index] [drabble index]

kim seokjin x reader // humour // 843 words

“What the hell are these?”

Seokjin, lying on his back on the bed, looked up from his cellphone briefly, catching sight of the garment in question you held up. “Jeans.” He replied casually, attention now back on Twitter.

You tutted, annoyed at his briefness. You wanted answers. “I know they’re jeans. This hole should be illegal.”

With mild curiosity you slipped a hand through the waistband and made a fist, pushing it through the hole questionably placed right beside the crotch. You could probably fit two fists in there. Possibly your head. Bizarre. “You wore these?”

It was near midnight and you were bored. Seokjin was being no fun, you’d spent an hour trying to find something to watch on Netflix because he couldn’t make up his mind. You refused to acknowledge you were just as indecisive. Somewhere along the line you’d had a minor squabble—which really just meant you ignoring him for five minutes until he coaxed you round with a back massage. Thinking about it now, you should probably start ignoring him again because it had only lasted five minutes before he was on his phone again. That’s why you were in his closet, rooting around to find some secret gems he may have lying around. You hadn’t expected to find such a risky pair of jeans rolled up in a ball in the back of a shelf though. Seokjin showing thigh? Unthinkable. He’d walked around in these?

“Yes, I did,” he replied with a laugh, finally putting his phone down. “Pretty religiously actually, over the span of like a year.”

Really? You felt almost put out you’d never seen him in them before.

“The hole kept getting bigger though. I called them The Nut Jeans.” He carried on, explaining it like they were the beginning of some sort of Lord of the Rings trilogy, dramatic hand movements included, punctuating each word. “Because y’know, the nuts could fall out at any time.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, mental image unneeded, but there anyway. “Gross.”

He sat up, outstretching his arms for you to come closer. “You say that but we both know you don’t think my balls are gross.”

You scoffed. “Every pair of balls are.”

He instantly looked rejected, arms dropping to his sides. “And I thought you loved me.”

You refrained an eye roll and made your way towards him, jeans now folded over your arm. “I do, doesn’t stop me from hating balls though.” There was not a person on this earth that actually thought they were nice to look at, surely?

You knelt on the bed, making your way towards him, having no choice but to kiss the pout off his mouth. “Buuut,” you began almost unwilling, “I guess if I had to choose, yours are the best.”

He instantly grinned, hands reaching for your waist to keep you there bent over him. He let out a laugh. “Best balls award.”

Okay he didn’t have to sound so smug about it. You weren’t engraving that on a trophy for his birthday. You nudged him, holding the jeans out. “Put them on for me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I just wanna see,” you shrugged. Voice low. Whiney almost. “I never got to see.” Sue you for being so curious. Gross balls or not, you wanted to see the jeans on.

But Seokjin was shaking his head, sounding all high and mighty when he refused you. “Should’ve liked me sooner then. Could’ve been getting The Nut Jean action long ago.”

You stared at him unimpressed, and he just had to go a step further. Of course he did.

“You don’t know how much pussy they got me.”

“Oh per-lease,” you scoffed loudly. What girl would instantly drop their panties for some tattered old jeans?

“Don’t believe me, I don’t care,” he muttered, reaching for his cellphone again.

You stopped him, hand over his. “Please put them on,” you asked sweetly. He looked up, your mouth millimetres from his. You had him, but just in case— “I promise you they’ll get you the best pussy ever right now.”

He wanted to call your bluff, pulling his head back to really study your face for any indication that you were just messing with him. “I thought you weren’t in the mood.”

That’s what you had told him half an hour ago when he’d suggested you have sex to quell your boredom. It didn’t work like that, what a cop out. But now? Now you wouldn’t mind seeing him in those jeans. Just to see how big that hole really was.

You lifted a shoulder casually. “Well, y’know, there’s nothing like a conversation about balls to get me going.”

“My balls,” he corrected. God, he was really going to let that go to his head, wasn’t he?

He caught the wrinkle of your nose again. You couldn’t help it, like a reflex every time you heard the word. Snatching the jeans from your hand he grinned spitefully. “For that I’m keeping my boxers on, pervert. No nuts for you.”

Written 2020. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

#jin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #fic:crystallised #floralseokjin:writings

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barisifictionarchive · 4 years

Text

MASTER LIST - suggested by the writers

The very talented creators were asked to name the favorite fics they’ve written themselves, so here’s the compiled list with our writers’ suggestions of their best works:

before the alarm. by vadaviita

(392 | General | Complete)

Sometimes, no matter how exhausted you are, you just so happen to wake up hours before you really need to; sometimes, for a moment, you're glad.

Turn the Lights Off, I'm in Love by egirldallon

(545 | Teen | Complete)

It's just Rafael and Sonny dancing. That's it.

Here, In Your Arms by Bicarisi

(626 | General | Complete)

Sonny Carisi has never felt this happy in his life.

Penis Fish, A Tale of Lost Love by rellkelltn87

(726 | Teen | Complete)

Barba is trapped on a beach with thousands of urechis unicinctus, the species of spoon worm colloquially known as the “penis fish." (Trust me, kids, you don't want to Google that.) This is basically a Twitter gag that went too far. Also, it's formatted as a TV script.

Probably don't read this if you're squeamish about weird-looking aquatic life forms.

I will escort myself out of the fandom now.

Discouraged by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(1142 | Teen | Complete)

Carisi goes home to Barba after being blindsided in Arraignments. Again. He’s feeling discouraged and starts to question if he really is suited for being an ADA. Rafael comforts him and convinces him he’s wrong and things would get better.

all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting by wayward13

(1392 | Teen | Complete)

"You grew a beard."

Rafael laughed and looked back and forth between the two of them.

"What is with you two? Does it look bad?" he asks with a smile bringing his hand up to rub his cheek briefly.

"No! You- uh you look really good, Barba," Sonny stammered, "I mean- happy. You look really happy."

"I am."

Good Thing Go by minnesotamemelord

(1501 | General | Complete)

Rafael Barba says his goodbyes.

finally safe to fall by adabarbacarisi

(1600 | Mature | Complete)

Rafael loved fiercely and deeply, when he fell for someone he was as passionate and intense with that love as he was in his work. It seemed it was in his nature to be a little too much, a little too bold, for a lot of people. He had accepted that perhaps that world-changing, earth-shattering, heart-soaring kind of mutual love wasn’t in the cards for him.

That is, until Sonny Carisi entered his life and changed everything.

Family by Ava_now

(1656 | General | Complete)

Happy Valentine's Day! Here, I got you a baby!

Harbor in the Storm by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(1959 | Teen | Complete)

After the end of Sunk Cost Fallacy, Sonny Carisi needs help. Rafael Barba is the only one who can help him.

Only say my name, it will be held against you by Bicarisi

(2053 | Mature | Complete)

Sonny and Rafael had been friends with benefits for over a year. But what happens when it becomes something more?

Begin Again by glammetalkitten

(2389 | General | Complete)

The morning Sonny wakes up as an ADA and not an NYPD detective, he’s, you know, a little nervous. New job, life-changing kind of nervous.

Forgiven by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(2476 | Teen | Complete)

When Rafael Barba shows up out of the blue after almost three years, Sonny doesn't know what to think. He wants to be upset, but Rafael makes it almost impossible. Rafael disappeared off the face of the earth and Sonny can't let himself forgive him that easy. With as sincere as Rafael seems, Sonny can't help but think maybe he was deserving of his forgiveness.

Where's the Love Without Remorse by girldallon

(2809 | Teen | Complete)

Some secrets are purposely kept, for a reason, good reasons.

You Raise Me Up by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(3041 | Teen | Complete)

The Undiscovered Country never happened. Jack McCoy hired Sonny as an ADA then promptly retired, leaving room for Rafael Barba to become the new DA. He takes care of Sonny and supports him, even when no one else does.

White in Your Hair by FreckledSkittles

(3299 | Teen | Complete)

It's been too long since Sonny has seen Rafael. Things have changed, but it feels great.

Call by Coop_Scoop

(4119 | Explicit | Complete)

Rafael finally decides that living in Florida really isn't for him, he hasn't worked since he got there. But he needs to make a few calls to try and get back to where he wants to be and maybe get the person who has haunted his mind since he left.

he doesn't look a thing like jesus by hanzios

(5029 | Teen | Complete)

The first time he summoned the archangel, Sonny was on his couch, reading a Wikipedia page about translated Hebrew transcripts from the Old Testament.

He Who Can Endure It by abogadobarba (daltonfightclub)

(5478 | Teen | Complete)

They were always so close to the precipice of something more, but ever the pragmatists, were also privy to the many ways in which a whisper of impropriety could destroy a career such as theirs, cut down a man by half and leave him aching besides—and that’s before accounting for the scandal of it all.

But before all else, Sonny was a man of His word. So, he learned to endure it.

OR: The one in which Carisi is the new ADA and in a little bit over his head (with both the law AND Barba).

High School Barisi by icedcoffeebro

(8693 | General | WIP)

Sonny is part of the tech team in theatre, and Rafa is the understudy for the main role. They bump into each other more than once.

Taken from my brain during Stop-Motion class.

TW for mentions of parental abuse.

Do You Mind? by Larkin21

(11288 | Teen | Complete)

Pre-Barisi, set in early season 17. Barba's feelings toward Carisi grow beyond a grudging respect for a coworker, as told in missing moments from episodes 2-5.

This is the first part to a multi-part prequel for my story, Mind If I Drop Over? This part is Barba's POV and it's rated teen, mostly for language. All other parts of the series are (or will likely be) rated explicit.

Carisi's Goddamn Legs by juniperhoot

(11502 | Explicit | Complete)

Rafael Barba is obsessed with Sonny Carisi's legs. And the rest of him, come to think of it.

But damn, those legs.

Moments in Time by tobeconspicuous

(11640 | Teen | Complete)

When Catalina was a child she knew that there was something special about her. Her mother said magic flowed through their veins and that some people would never understand.

Catalina was unsure what her mother meant by that until one day when she was ten years old, she found a young boy in her backyard.

The truth within words by Subaruchan192

(11944 | Teen | Complete)

'Dear Rafael, You're gone. It's strange. It’s been a week since you left and yet I can still feel you here. I can feel your eyes on me, but when I turn no one is there. I hear your voice in the hall, but when I go around the corner it's someone else. You are gone, and it is strange, and it makes me sad every time.'

One week after Rafael Barba left without a word, Sonny can't stand all those words left unspoken anymore and decides to write a letter to express them. Along the journey, he discovers that he has been in love with Rafael for a long time only to realize that he is too late.

Or is he? Let's find out.

A Nice Young Man by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)

(12767 | General | Complete)

After the events of episode 16.16 (Barba's grandmother passes) and 16.7 (Sonny's brother-in-law is assaulted by his female parole officer), Carisi reaches out to Barba because that's just his way. Barba is a bit confused about what to do about it all.

We're All Just Passing Through by nukablastr

(13790 | Teen | Complete)

After a series of disasters cause Rafael to miss the last train back to Boston, a chance encounter with a stranger may redefine what it means to go home.

Little One You Have To Take Better Care by MollyKillers

(19270 | General | Complete)

Everyone is born with a dragon inside them as a part of their soul.

Rafael believes because of the coldness in him his dragon is dead. However, when he meets Dominick (call me Sonny) Carisi something in him stirs.

Credo by snakeling

(19833 | Mature | Complete)

If a one night stand is the only way Sonny can have Rafael, he'll take it. But he wants so much more.

Catching Feelings by soul_writerr

(21034 | General | Complete)

Sonny and Rafael are such close friends that everyone around them thinks they're dating. They think that's hilarious, until Sonny starts dating someone else and Rafael realizes he made a huge mistake.

But now it's too late to fix it, so he tries to move on.

A Healing Year by adrianna_m_scovill

(24706 | Mature | Complete)

Rafael Barba learned how to protect his heart from the world, and he gave up on the hope of ever falling in love - until Sonny Carisi made him want all the things he'd accepted he would never have.

The Second Assistant by soul_writerr

(35357 | Teen | Complete)

Sonny is an idealistic, driven journalist who can't find a job. When he starts as Runway's Editor in Chief Rafael Barba's assistant, his life turns into a nightmare. Until it doesn't. And he gets better clothes out of it.

Devil Wears Prada AU.

#barisi #fic rec #themed list #master list #suggested by the creators #less than 1k #less thank 5k #less than 10k #10k to 25k #25k to 50k

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junetuesday · 5 years

Text

sweetener - [seven]

Hoodies and Hormones

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swear words, drinking, menstruation and all the wonderful feelings it brings, fluff.

A/N: just remember that good things come to those who wait :)

Updates Sunday nights

Mother Nature either had really terrible timing, or she’s just one sadistic bitch. The first possibility in you’d-rather-not-think-about-how-long that you might actually need access to that region, and she block booked the place for a week. On short notice, no less.

You'd decided to go back on the pill - not that you were expecting anything, it just made sense. You’d only come off it because you didn’t bother to re-register with a doctor when you went home for the summer, and you weren’t anticipating needing contraception any time soon so you just let it run out. Not to be presumptuous, but things with Tom were going pretty well, plus it’s nice to have some control over your hormones, so a quick trip to the GP later you were armed with a prescription - all you had to do was wait until your next period to start taking it. Which, as luck would have it, came approximately an hour before you were due to meet Tom for drinks, completely unannounced. This was irritating for a number of reasons.

Number One - you had to change your outfit because your Surprise Guest meant you had to put on different underwear, and you only had one pair that didn’t give you VPL in the skirt you had planned to wear.

Number Two - your boobs had grown half a cup size overnight, and that combined with their overall tenderness meant they were very unhappy about being squeezed into a push-up bra.

Number Three - the rest of your body was no better off, cramps twisting your abdomen, your lower back aching, a low-grade headache pulsing behind your eyes.

Number Four - you felt like you were on an emotional rollercoaster. You wanted to cry with rage when you realised it was pouring with rain, so very tempted to cancel and stay in and eat your body weight in pasta and/or chocolate. Of course, once you got there you were thankful you didn’t cancel, almost forgetting about your Visitor - until yet another emotion reared its head:

Number Five - you were, what’s the phrase? Erotically charged. After a while you had to suggest a change of venue because if you kept on sitting opposite him, looking like that and making you laugh so hard you could hardly breathe, you were pretty sure you were going to explode. You didn’t even really want food (though that changed once you started walking to the restaurant and the cold wind brought you to your senses), but you had to make do, given that you couldn’t do what you really wanted to do. That was the worst part, you’d have been able to deal with the other things if it weren’t for:

Number Six - no matter how well the evening went, you would be going home alone, just you and your Tampax. Sitting on that bench in that bus shelter, Tom’s lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth and his hand on the back of your neck holding you close, it had taken all your self-control to stop your hand inching further up his thigh, to not reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the time he’d clearly taken to style it already ruined by the blustering wind. Each time you pulled apart for air, breathless smiles on your lips, you could almost feel him about to invite you back to his place - and each time you kissed him just to stop him asking, until eventually his bus came and you announced its arrival in an unnecessarily stiff voice. It was torture, truly.

And unfortunately, you were still Out of Service the following Wednesday. With just over a week left of the autumn term, most of the university’s sports teams had played their final games that afternoon. So, naturally, between players still in their kits, cheerleaders in full uniform, and those who just knew that AU nights were sure to be messy (if you can’t be an athlete, be an athletic supporter, right?), the students union was packed that night.

Every window was steamed up, heat radiating off the masses of sweaty bodies squeezed inside and condensing on the glass, perpetually cold from the December air. A few choice illustrations were scattered across the windows lining the corridor that connected the main rooms on the first floor, phalli drawn crudely by drunken fingers. You only registered them briefly as you passed through, your mind elsewhere. Pre-drinks had run on a little longer than planned, after you had thrown a mild tantrum when none of your clothes looked right. You had declared you were never leaving the house again, until Liv and Mads spent a good half an hour telling you in no uncertain terms that you looked great and you needed to get a grip. And get a grip you did - around the neck of a bottle of prosecco, and soon enough your tummy was bubbling happily instead of cramping violently. Your mini-meltdown did mean that it was almost midnight by the time the three of you piled into the backseat of a cab, only just getting to the SU before security stopped letting people in. Time, then, was of the essence.

For the last week, you and Tom had been messaging almost constantly, whether it was over text or Snapchat. Mostly inconsequential stuff - Twitter threads he thought you’d find interesting, you asking if he’d mind if you strangled Harrison when you read over the final draft of your project and found out he hadn’t referenced any of his sources properly, screenshots from his weekly Sunday FaceTime with his dog, that sort of thing. Over the last couple of hours his messages had been coming in bursts - three at once, then nothing for forty-five minutes - as the rugby team set up camp in the pub to celebrate their win.

That was where you found him, telling the girls you’d text them to meet up later. Tom had told you where he was when you texted to say you were outside, but he needn’t have bothered - they were hard to miss, a dozen or so boys spread out across sofas and bar stools, making more noise than the rest of the room put together. Most were wearing some combination of shorts, rugby jerseys, tracksuit bottoms, and hoodies, all emblazoned with the Athletics Union logo. It had rained pretty heavily that afternoon, so those still in the kit they played in were splattered with dried mud, caking and cracking on their bare legs. You spotted Tom as you weaved through the crowd, hearing his laugh before you actually saw him.

Maybe it was because you were drunk, maybe it was your raging hormones, or maybe it was just because his hair was all curly from the rain and he looked really cute in his AU hoodie and grass-stained shorts, smiling at you as you approached - in any case, you really wished the rest of the team weren’t there because you wanted nothing more than to go over and kiss him. Alas, they were, the two either side of Tom jeering and shoving him teasingly when they caught him smiling at you. Had you not had such long predrinks, you might have felt self-conscious as you squeezed between two guys that seemed to be as tall as they were wide, feeling too many pairs of eyes on you. As it was, though, you had a sort of tunnel vision, guiding you in between pool tables and sofas until you got to Tom.

“Hey,” he beamed, pushing off the edge of the pool table he’d been leaning on to stand up straight as you approached him.

“Hi -”

You didn’t get out anymore than that (not that you had anything else planned), cut off by the guy to Tom’s right shouting as he pushed Tom towards you.

“Go on lad!”

Tom caught himself just before he slammed into you, his left arm flying out past you to grab the back of one of the sofas. The plastic cup in his other hand crumpled between your chests, but thankfully it was practically empty so you didn’t end up with snakebite all over your playsuit. It was a little jarring, sure, a little aggressive, but him being this close was actually kind of nice. Plus you were pretty sure you heard him mutter ‘fuck’ under his breath, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy hearing him swear like that, voice rough and right in your ear.

“Sorry,” he grimaced apologetically as he stepped back, his fingers grazing your hip as his arm returned to his side.

“S’okay,” you smiled. “D’you wanna go get a drink?”

His grimace twisted back to a grin as you smiled, nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion of another drink. You both looked in the direction of the bar, no clear path through the mass of students in sight.

“Erm…”

“Lead the way,” you gestured, trying (without much success) not to grin like an absolute idiot when Tom took your raised hand in his own, lacing your fingers together.

Together you weaved through the crowd towards the bar, Tom’s almost-empty cup shoved into the chest of the boy who pushed him into you as you passed (much to the enjoyment of the others around him). There was, of course, a queue for the bar, but you didn’t mind too much. In truth you probably didn’t need another drink just yet, you just needed an excuse to get away from the group.

“Sorry,” Tom said again once you joined the huddle of people waiting to be served. “About them, they’re dickheads...well they’re not, they’re alright really, but-”

“S’cool, my friends can be twats, too.” You chuckled, your face falling once you realised what you’d said. “Don’t tell them I said that.”

He nodded sagely, miming zipping his mouth shut, turning a lock and throwing away the key.

“Anyway, well done today.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know much about rugby, but Tom had told you they’d won 41 to 19, which sounded pretty good even to your untrained ear. He’d started talking about how it wasn’t really a fair match because it was their first team against the other uni’s second team, whatever that meant, but you’d been busy rummaging through Madison’s wardrobe for something to wear and by the time you texted back he’d moved on to asking what time you thought you’d be out, so naturally that took precedent.

“Thanks,” he smiled after miming unzipping his mouth - to which you rolled your eyes (but actually found rather endearing). “You’ll have to come and watch a match next term.”

Next term, huh? Sooo this is still gonna be a thing next term?

The queue moved forwards then, the people in front of you moving to the side to take the place left by the group leaving with their drinks, allowing you to reach the bar. There was only space for one, so you leaned on the counter and looked over your shoulder at Tom as he stepped in behind you.

“Only if it’s better weather - I’m not standing in the rain all afternoon.”

The person next to you left with their drinks, prompting another reshuffle at the bar, the girl behind it moving to the opposite end. You would have been annoyed - now you’d have to wait until she came back to your end - but Tom managed to elbow his way into the gap beside you so he was facing you, leaning against the bar.

“Not even for me?” he pouted, eyebrows raised above glassy eyes.

Literally fuck off why are you so fucking CUTE?!

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll see.”

“Yeah we’ll see, alright - we’ll see you in the pouring rain come February.”

“Hmm, okay, sure.”

You shifted as he laughed, feeling his eyes scanning over your face, down to your chest and back up again as you mirrored his position. You rested your forearm on the sticky surface of the bar to steady yourself as someone squeezed in behind you. He was very, very close then, practically chest to chest. You were also very close to the people around you, but you didn’t really notice them, you only noticed Tom’s hand on your waist - not exactly pulling you closer because you couldn’t really get any closer, but holding you where you were at least.

You glanced over his shoulder at the bar staff to see if they were likely to come over any time soon. It didn’t look like it, so you figured you might as well make good use of your time while you waited, right? So, resting your right hand on his chest, you closed the miniscule gap between you. In your inebriated state, jostled by the people around you, you missed your target slightly, your pouted lips just meeting the corner of Tom’s mouth.

Eh, close enough.

Your giggle against his lips was cut off as he kissed you back - properly this time. It was a little messy, as most drunken kisses are, all tongues and teeth and hands pulling at clothes, and so all-consuming, as most drunken kisses are, that you all but forgot where you were by the time you pulled apart for breath.

The deadpan expression of the girl behind the bar brought you back to reality pretty quickly though. Whoops.

Tom cleared his throat and you gave her an awkward smile before you ordered your drinks, thanking her when you ordered and again when you paid, hoping she wouldn’t skimp on the vodka just to spite you.

You following close behind, Tom cleared a path back through the crowd once you had your drinks. He turned to you once you were far enough away that he had space to do so, that easy smile you had become so fond of on his flushed face.

“D’you wanna go back to the others, or…?”

Absolutely not.

You pretended to think for a moment, before a grin spread across your face when you heard one of your favourite songs coming on in the clubroom next door. Tom just laughed as you grabbed his hand, pulling him into the other room to dance.

You couldn’t be sure how much time passed with you and Tom dancing together (read: kissing on the dancefloor and lazily grinding together whenever you took a break to breathe). Eventually you went outside to cool off - both literally because that many bodies packed into a room, dancing and breathing and whatever else makes for one sweaty environment, and figuratively, because you’d been dancing with your back to his chest and you were pretty sure there was something pressing against your ass, and you had to keep reminding yourself that despite the squirming feeling in the pit of your stomach, nothing was going to happen tonight. Nothing physical, at least.

You found Madison and Liv out in the smoking area under a halogen heater, talking animatedly with the other people around the circular picnic-style table. You vaguely recognised them, but not enough to know their names or anything about them, but they all moved up on Madison’s instructions to let you and Tom sit down, so you decided they were good people.

Squished together on the bench, you laced your fingers between Tom’s, your clasped hands resting on your thigh. You sat and talked as you cooled down - sometimes just to Tom, sometimes to Mads beside you, sometimes as part of a table-wide discussion - but his hand stayed in yours the whole time.

After a while you started to shiver, goose-bumps erupting all across your arms and legs, exposed to the winter air by your cute-but-not-seasonally-appropriate playsuit. Liv and Madison were in the middle of a story, bickering about some inconsequential detail, so most of the table were focused on them.

“You cold?” Tom murmured in your ear, his body close enough to yours that he only had to turn his head slightly to be able to speak low enough that only you could hear.

“Sort of.”

He laughed when you shrugged, and you shivered again - only not from the cold, his breath on your skin making all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He asked if you wanted to go back inside, but after looking around the table you decided that, no, you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

“D’you want this?”

Tom tugged at the neck of his hoodie with his free hand, and you started to shake your head no, because then he’d be cold - but he was already letting go of your hand and pulling the hoodie over his head before you got the chance to protest. The jersey he had on underneath rode up a bit with the movement, but you pretended not to notice, choosing instead to focus on the fact that it had long sleeves and your playsuit had spaghetti straps, so you didn’t feel too bad about stealing his clothes. Taking it from him, you tried your best not to mess your hair up as you put it on. Tom was smirking when your head popped up over the neckline, though, so you guessed you weren't very successful.

“Thanks,” you giggled, tugging his hoodie down over your hips as he fixed your hair.

Whether their story had finished, or they just happened to pick that exact moment to look at you, you didn’t know, but either way Madison and Liv ‘aww’ed loudly beside you, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, bowing your head against Tom’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

He just laughed as he took your hand again, squeezing it gently. You took that to mean ‘it’s okay that your friends are really fucking embarassing, because mine are too and at least yours aren’t violent’, and thankfully the topic moved on quickly, drunk minds unable to stick to one thing for too long, so the attention was soon away from the two of you.

“Warm enough now?”

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed as he dropped your hand, leaning against him when he wrapped his arm around your back instead. “Thanks.”

You weren’t actually quite warm enough yet, but you were well on your way. The material of Tom’s hoodie was soft and heavy, and if you were sober you might have noticed that it smelled vaguely earthy and warm, a mix of dirt from his jersey and the amber base notes of his cologne still clinging to the fabric. As it was, you didn’t notice any of that, you were too busy wondering how the hell he’d been wearing it inside, especially with a long-sleeved jersey underneath.

“How were you not roasting inside in this?”

“Dunno,” you felt him shrug next to you. “Maybe cause m’wearin’ shorts?”

You looked down at his legs next to yours under the table, both yours and his bare below your mid-thighs. That didn’t really make sense because you weren’t too cold inside with the same amount of exposed leg and no hoodie or heavy jersey on top, but you didn’t really care anyway. It wasn’t important, so you just hummed in reply.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until someone across the table asked Tom a question about the match that afternoon. You just listened to him talk, barely registering how you were getting jostled as he gesticulated with his free hand, the other tucked under the hem of his hoodie where it rested on your hip. After being outside in the cold, and quite a while passing since your last drink, you had sobered up into a pleasantly drunk state, just a little sleepy and a lot happy.

You would have been happier if you could go home with Tom, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. You’d been prepared for this, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. His texts had been getting increasingly flirty as the afternoon became the evening and then became the night, post-match beers no doubt dulling his inhibitions. It had almost made you not want to go out - it was hard enough to make yourself go home after your date, how would you manage it when you were drunk? You knew that would have been a really stupid reason to miss a night out though, especially when it would probably be one of your last before exam season started. You’d made arrangements though, making Liv promise not to go home with Harrison because that would make it even harder to go home alone. She’d reluctantly agreed, although now you thought about it you hadn’t seen much of him anyway. You wondered vaguely if you’d seen him at all, the details of the night blurring together, and made a mental note to interrogate Liv later about their Relationship Status.

That wasn’t important just then anyway, and neither was what excuse you’d use to avoid going home with Tom. For the moment you’d just enjoy things as they were - a little blurry around the edges, a little loud and a little muddy, but comforting all the same.

⋘SIX | EIGHT ⋙

old taglist: @starksparker @bi-writes @softspideys @thwippeter @cutiehollands @loserparker @madmadmilk @hollandlovely @spiderboytotherescue @hollandbaby @dtftomholland @cabbagebag @iknowisoundcrazy @spiderman-n @luvnyuh @parkerpuffwrites @thwip-it-real-good @positiveparker @ap93mcu @popculture-parker @bilkyrie @pineapplwz @thequeensardine @hollandroos @mikalaka @awkwardfangirl2014 @booksaremylife @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mcuspidey @definitely-not-black-cat @smashley816 @unicorn-princess-1999 @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @jiminielatte @curlyhairedparker @curlytoms @darlingxholland @smexylemony @musiclover1263 @hueppily @therealcap @alwaysafanficwriter @timelock97 @trustfundparker @bon-travail98 @babyplutoszx2 @xxtomxo @que-es-life @spider-babes @expcto-ptronum @rosieredcheeks @laucontrerasv @sweet-baby-cakes @mismatchingsocks @rxsesinjune @toomuchdaegu @baebeepeach @killer-barnes @hauntedbysilence @fratboievans @splashofbi @nicole-lynne @whydidichoosebiochem @parkerindustrys @parkersvibes @tomhollandsbitch @summertime-acoustic @solarspidey @enchantingkittengaditor @hcneybugs @queenofthefangirls7 @fabtasticass @driftingtonystark @txmhoelland @applenter @little-hoseok @mayaisntfunny @toodeeptowake @dangerousluv1 @chubby-cheek-calum @awwyeaahh @aussie-mantle @spiderkat1248 @underoosjae @ultrunning @stormyparker @supernatural-girl97 @petersfreckles @tiny-parker @madeinthemidnightmemories @iamcalledsteph @bellsclarkee @iamscribby519 @captainsteverodgersgirl @jessjesstotherescue @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @littlebookbengal @danicarosaline @xplodingsocks @yourwonderbelle @tommyhollandaisesauce @spiderrpcrker @mellow-delight @danny-the-coolest @gennyld-blog @parkerstylesperalta @spidey-waffles11 @wisdomsprydexparker @hannahholland1811 @hufflepuff-wanda @what–you–egg @lexshead @thisismyblogthing @i-stan-brie-larson @ohmyquackson @tiny-friggin-human @deathofmissjackson @stop-wonder-think @alexs-mardy-bum @marshmallow-babe @smolholland56 @relise-thefury @stretchkingblog97 @1022bridgetp @nedthegay @jurassicparker @fairydustparker @altuniverse @rekrappeter @sofiarasines @misslexilouwho @kissykissykissykissykissy @tomshufflepuff @theideasofa-troubleminded @bearsbeetsbarnes @lala-florez @plxstic-rose @cancerous-lizard666 @quinjetboi @newsienewsie @crazy-bout-books @adayasgeorgia @alexv2902 @fragilebeautifulchaos @oh-my-fancan @amor-y-comida @soccerstud004 @myimagineoutlet @kaleidoscopic-sunflower @boundtorain @holdinbacksecrets @spidermeggo @redmxnn @wdwimagine @chewie-redbird @sedulouswrtr @5secondsofalphas @undiadeestos @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @aclassypuppy @rhapsodyparker @kindheartsclub @littlegreenpill @particularmila @fangirling-gallifreyan @vintage-parker @peterparkoure @captainbuckyy @tom-hollands-blog @imagine-lovebug @crazyfreaker @joonmail @violet-lilyy @captiveties

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x female reader

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originofjaehyun · 4 years

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Interlude: No More Drama & Prelude: After Story – Omake

Omake’s primary meaning is general and widespread. It is used as an anime and manga fandom term to mean extra or bonus.

Hi!

Because I wasn’t able to update the next chapter this week (stares directly at my other deadlines) – so I thought of updating you guys with something that is rather different instead! :D

Whenever I write, sometimes I would reach roadblocks, and ideas just wouldn’t come out. Usually by then, I would start to imagine things that most of the time are totally unrelated to the main story (haha).

Anyway! Long story short, these are the character profiles that I imagined when I designed them on my head (lol?)

Friendly reminder that this is a complete fiction!

P.S.: I imagined them during their Neo Zone era, so I wouldn’t talk that much about them physically? Also, you can search on Twitter on their actual perfumes, but I think these brands would suit them very well too (there are some that I took from that reference as well lol).

Read Interlude & Prelude

Jaehyun

Scent: Maison Margiela – Jazz Club, Jo Malone – Myrrh and Tonka

Cigarette brand: Marlboro Red

Carpool karaoke pick: (At first) Lauv – I Like Me Better, Cigarette After Sex, and such, but later he would play Spotify’s This Is Adele playlist

Cocktail pick: Ballatine’s Scotch Whiskey

Food delivery choices: Anything within reach (does not have any preference)

Kinks: This tickles him by a lot, but he likes it when you teased him by playing with his happy trail

Yuta

Scent: Diptyque – Tam Dao, Armani – Code Colonia

Cigarette brand: He used to smoke Camel, but changed to IQOS

Carpool karaoke pick: Depeche Mode, Post Malone, RADWIMPS, sometimes Arashi

Cocktail pick: Cassis Orange, beer

Food delivery choices: Fried chicken (let’s not make him obviously Japanese by making him ordering Ramen every time lol)

Kinks: He loves the sound of skin slapping each other, so expect a lot of spanking

Johnny

Scent: BYREDO – Mojave Ghost (for daily), LE LABO – Santal 33 (for the evening), Tom Ford – Fucking Fabulous (for the special occasions)

Cigarette brand: Dunhill Blonde Blend

Carpool karaoke pick: Daft Punk (for sure), Disclosure, and such

Cocktail pick: Negroni

Food delivery choices: Fast food, preferably burgers

Kinks: He’s sensitive behind his ears, and would go wild whenever you whisper directly to his ears

Doyoung

Scent: Le Labo – Another 13, Chanel – Bleu De Chanel

Cigarette brand: None

Carpool karaoke pick: Park Hyo Shin, Daniel Caesar, Celine Dion

Cocktail pick: Gin & Tonic

Food delivery choices: Jajjangmyeon

Kinks: He likes it when you explore his neck, and whenever you kiss his adam’s apple

Mark

Scent: Dior – Eau Savage

Cigarette brand: None

Carpool karaoke pick: 2Pac, Kendrick Lamar

Cocktail pick: He prefers dark beer, but would take soju anytime with his hyungs

Food delivery choices: Anything carbs

Kinks: He bites a lot

Taeyong

Scent: Penhaligon – Endymion

Cigarette brand: Raison

Carpool karaoke pick: Jhené Aiko, Kehlani, Justin Bieber

Cocktail pick: Jagerbomb, but he would be the one who suggested Tequila shots

Food delivery choices: Bubble tea

Kinks: He likes the feeling of your nail piercing onto his skin (lol did I just make him slightly masochist)

Haechan

Scent: Jean Paul Gaultier – Le Male

Cigarette brand: Lucky Strike Menthol

Carpool karaoke pick: Michael Jackson, Queen, Jason Mraz

Cocktail pick: Soju

Food delivery choices: Fast food, but he would join anyone who’s ordering any food

Kinks: He prefers the room to be bright so he can see you

Jungwoo

Scent: Roses – Chloe

Cigarette brand: None

Carpool karaoke pick: Frank Ocean, Dean, NCT (a-ha)

Cocktail pick: He would take a sip of anything tbh

Food delivery choices: Anything but he would often craves for kimbab

Kinks: Jungwoo you’re not allowed to have a kink

Taeil

Scent: Tom Ford – Noir Extreme

Cigarette brand: Camel Filter

Carpool karaoke pick: He owns a playlist called; “Wedding Day Songs”

Cocktail pick: Old Fashioned

Food delivery choices: Ramen (the legit ramen and not the instant ones)

Kinks: He breathes you in, a lot

Winwin

Scent: Aqcua Di Parma – Blu Mediterraneo Mandorlo Di Sicilia

Cigarette brand: Mevius One

Carpool karaoke pick: The 1975, Vampire Weekend

Cocktail pick: Ume Highball

Food delivery choices: Jokbal

Kinks: Surprisingly he’s into role play (he loves it when you call him by his code name)

Random Trivia

All Interlude chapters’ quotes are from Jaehyun’s parts on Neo Zone album

Same goes for Prelude, except for Make Your Day (since Yuta wasn’t a part of that song, I replaced it with Jaehyun’s)

You might or might not notice, but I also put Jaehyun’s part(s) on the actual chapter (either on the conversations or the narrations)

Yuta’s yakuza friend, Taka (mentioned briefly), is taken from MIYAVI’s real name (Takamasa Ishihara) – I borrowed his name because Yuta listened to MIYAVI alot (he also followed him on Instagram!)

The music that they listen to on the car ride during Pandora’s Box was Cigarette After Sex’s Apocalypse (because Jaehyun listens to Cigarettes After Sex before going to bed)

The music during the first car ride with Yuta was No Replacing You by Pink Sweat$ (it’s a part of Jaehyun’s playlist – which he revealed on one of his vlive)

The movie that Jaehyun and [Y/N] watched during the rainy day on White Night, The Notebook, is based on Jaehyun’s recommendation on NCT Night Night

I also mentioned this on Pandora’s Box, but the repeated quote between [Y/N] and Jaehyun, “What is the first twenty-four hours if we’re looking back at the past seventy years?” is highly inspired from Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud (And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70) –because Jaehyun is a fan of Ed.

Also, [Y/N] and Jaehyun met when they’re on their mid 20s. The average human lifespan is 79 years —hopefully our [Y/N] and Jaehyun would have a wonderful long life together. That phrase itself means that both of them are willing to spend the rest of their lives together. Though, I don’t know how that becomes their own love language, it just happened as I write the story haha

[Y/N]’s body gel inspiration is actually a body cleanser by Aesop, A Rose By Any Other Name

Jaehyun’s engagement ring pick was Étincelle de Cartier Ring by Cartier

Jaehyun and [Y/N]’s favorite Ghibli movie pick is Howl’s Moving Castle – Jaehyun mentioned on NCT Night Night that he watched Howl’s Moving Castle a lot when he was at school

After the wedding, dark crimson rose was spotted on Nakamoto’s residence. This symbolizes grief and sadness.

On Make Your Day, the flower language meaning for Buttercup is “Your charm dazzles me”. This is why Yuta knows ___ is attracted to her. If you didn’t notice, Yuta already know that she’s the florist during their first encounter at Nonstop. That is because Yuta remembers their first encounter, too

The tune that ___ listen to at the end of Make Your Day is Always With Me (Spirited Away theme song). I personally feel the scene (on my head) fits the song perfectly! If you want to give it a listen, I recommend the piano version

At the end, ___ gave Yuta anthurium, which means hospitality and happiness. Note how I never really specify their relationship status, since I want the readers to have their own interpretation on the continuation of their relationship

Yuta’s haircut was actually not planned, but it fits the transition since he did cut his hair haha

The hardest chapters to write was Pandora’s Box and Not Alone – purely because they’re mostly transition chapters

Out of all chapters, my personal favorite from Interlude would be White Night and Nonstop for Prelude.

In fact, Nonstop would be my favorite chapter. I think I was so immersed with Jaehyun and [Y/N]’s wedding so I kept including TONS of details hahaha (I hope you don’t mind lol)

#jaehyun fic #yuta fic #nct scenario #nct scenarios #NCT 127 #interlude no more drama #prelude after story #omake

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mgkconfessions · 4 years

Text

Girls, Girls, Girls - Who is who?

This is an overview of the most talked about girls on this blog, who are or were in Kells’ life one way or another. (It isn’t finished yet and I’ll update it whenever I can, next girl will be Sahara.)

(in alphabetical order)

Chantel Jeffries

Nicknames used on this blog: Schantelle, C.

Instagram: chanteljeffries

Twitter: ChantelJeffries

Youtube: Chantel Jeffries

Profession: DJ, Instagram model, Youtuber (although she only posts if her video is sponsored these days)

Relationship to Kells: Probably dated from the beginning of July 2019 towards the end of October 2019.

Summary: I don’t recall the exact date when he followed Chantel or if she was already following him on Instagram, but publicly it all started when she attended his concert at The Wiltern in L.A. on June 30th 2019. Shortly after, both were seen at the Peppermint Club in L.A. to watch Dave Chapelle, where they were being filmed and photographed by paparazzi and afterwards had dinner at the Nice Guy. On July 4th Kells announced that he smashed Chantel and did the walk of shame, the same day they were at the 6th Annual 'Red, White & Bootsy' 4th July party in Malibu, where Chantel was djing and Kells performed as well. However he did the walk of shame actually multiple times according to an anon. Despite many fans complaining about her not being supportive, she did at least post about ‘Hotel Diablo’ on it’s release day. In the beginning there were many paparazzi pictures and videos taken of them (I let you guess who called them) for example when they were having lunch with Chantel’s friends or dinner and one time they even met up in New York, where he did some interviews for his new album ‘Hotel Diablo’ at the end of July. Chantel’s favourite paparazzo even got to asked both Chantel and Kells about their dating life, but neither of them really admitted to anything yet. He also caught them talking to fans or picking up clothes, although not for Jake Paul’s wedding as the title suggests. Jake Paul actually doesn’t like Chantel much and completely exposed her once (around 12:50). Anyway Kells also drove Chantel and her friends to Comic Con in San Diego, where he posted Chantel’s feet on his steering wheel and lap, while he was driving the car. Apparently Chantel didn’t see anything wrong with that and a week later she even joked around with Kells about him driving without a license. So for a month they spend a lot of time together, but since August he was touring again and went to Japan and Europe, so it seemed like they only saw each other a couple of times for example in London, where Kells took a flight earlier than his band mates, while Chantel was again with two friends there. Allegedly when he was in London with her, they started following each other, after many fans were speculating why they weren’t following each other already, however he allegedly removed some of his likes on more sexual posts, some thought that she might have told him to do it. Twitter was in general a medium for Chantel to subtweet about Kells all the time and having extreme changes in her mood. Especially since September their relationship seemed to go downhill. She tweeted song lyrics about lovers becoming strangers and missing someone, but also starting to forget about him. But around the middle of September, they seemed to be fine again, because Chantel posted a picture of two lovers in a bad on her Instagram story, which she captioned with ‘us’. By the way she previously posted another picture, where the couple resembled her and Kells back in July. However they seemed to have had a fight, maybe even took a break or called it quits, only a couple of days later. Chantel posted about the perfect song for an afternoon cry, while Kells told everyone that he’ll date himself. Two days later he was still in a bad mood. Nevertheless around a week later, they were still or back together and Chantel made their relationship public by posting a paparazzi picture of them in Kells’ car and calling him her baby. Kells took his time until he reposted the picture on his Instagram story as well only to delete it briefly after and then posted it again hours later. He seemed a bit unsure of this whole thing. And I honestly believe that Chantel didn’t post it, because they were so in love, but because it was the last thing she felt she could do to try to keep their relationship going. For her birthday Kells commented nothing special under her birthday picture, but her sister reminded us all that Chantel was still in his life by congratulating her with a picture of Chantel next to Kells’ yellow car. Around that time he fully stopped occasionally liking and commenting on her Instagram pictures and their relationship seemed quite done and over based on the cryptic tweets Chantel wrote in October about him. There was for example her very insensitive tweet about Kells choosing to be sad, which she was called out for by other fans, because it was obvious that she was talking about him or her liking tweets about being ignored. Shortly after that she claimed to have an existential crisis, I assume because of Kells, while he opened up about feeling hurt all the time, but blamed himself for it. The next day he unfollowed Chantel, so it seemed like they broke up for good and the same day he lost control on stage and explained that personal frustration was the reason for it, but that he wanted to get help after the tour ended. Chantel stayed quiet about it, but after a video appeared in which a guy was touching a girl’s ass and then showing the middle finger, while the girl and her friend were dancing on the Tour bus and Chantel and her sister were the only ones tagged on the post, she unfollowed him as well on October 29th. But that wasn’t the end yet, because now she had some things to say in her typical cryptic tweeting style. A day after she unfollowed him, she started with saying that hurt people hurt people, which was a tweet that Kells liked, continued with that she has questions and I assume that Kells made her feel something again. However Kells kept being petty towards her as well with Sahara (see below) and after that ended, him and Chantel refollowed each other on Instagram again and ended up partying together into the new Year 2020, but Chantel seemed to have moved on with Diplo for now, while Kells is in love with the music.

In my opinion these two didn’t fit at all and I talked in more detail about it here, but from the beginning it was clear that they wouldn’t work out, because Kells usually preferred his privacy while Chantel seemed to be someone, who needed and enjoyed the media attention and had no problem with publicizing her relationships. Also Kells was and still is struggling with his own demons and Chantel seemed to lack empathy and understanding for it, accusing him more than understanding that he isn’t in the right mindset for a relationship. I don’t know if this relationship was supposed to be exclusive, because Kells hooked up and wanted to hook up with other girls on tour, but he said before that girls know what they’re getting into, when they’re dating him and Chantel’s own friends literally joked about how Chantel’s bad habit is that she doesn’t know that she has a boyfriend (around 08:04), which was Kells and I also doubt that Chantel was completely focused on him either, although it might have looked like it. She’s a calculated person and knows how to climb up the social ladder and how to play people and present herself in the public eye. I’m sure she always has an eye on other celebrities, from whose relationship she could benefit.

Eden

Instagram: e.d.en

Profession: assistant

Relationship to Kells: She was first seen working as his assistant during the European leg of his Hotel Diablo Tour and the Justin Bieber Big Tour with Young Thug both in 2019.

Hedi Gores:

Instagram: hevin_gg (private)

Profession: co-founder of “Pressed Juicery”

Relationship to Kells: casual dating that turned into an open long-term toxic relationship from probably around the end of 2015 till the beginning of 2018

Summary: They met through their mutual friend Taav Cooperman. At first it was only casual between them until they realized that it was time to stop fucking around. They dated till around his birthday in 2016 and were on and off till 2018. Although Hedi has been described by various people as a toxic person and she went back and forth between Kells and her ex(-es), she seemed to be one of the few woman, he caught feelings for and was also one of the few, who he posted about on his Instagram page. He also knew family members of her, who liked him as well. But apart from that they kept their relationship low-key and most pictures of them were posted by friends. She was also the one, who got him more into fashion and I believe even had some connections for him. It is believed that his songs ‘Let you go’ and ‘The Break Up’ are about her. I don’t know if they’re still in contact, because they run in the same Hollywood circles, but I hope that she will never be a part of his life again, because she seemed to only want to play with him and keep him as her plan B, when she can’t date someone else.

In my opinion she never really loved him, because you wouldn’t play with someone you love and respect. However I think that Kells was in love with her, because she’s actually a mum, who takes care of her son and Kells never really had a mother, so he probably saw her as a caring and nurturing woman. She also fits to his preference of an independent woman, since she runs her own business and was fine with him sleeping with other girls.

Josie Canseco:

Instagram: josiecanseco

Twitter: JosieCanseco

Profession: model

Relationship to Kells: I believed that they were dating, others thought that they weren’t, but after writing this, I changed my mind. It looks like she wanted them to become something serious, while he preferred to keep it a casual fling from around January till the beginning of April 2019.

Summary: Publicly it all started after she commented a black heart under a picture of him around January 14th 2019, which isn’t on his Instagram page anymore. However you can still see the picture on the photographers Instagram page (melimelzone). The only pictures of her and Kells were taken on January 28th, where she went to Sundance Film Festival as well, I assume as his plus one, where they showed Big Time Adolescence. And on February 1st both of them attended Pete’s comedy show in L.A. After that they weren’t publicly seen together anymore, but she was busy on social media liking pictures of him on his fan pages and posting about him and the guys on her Instagram story, while Kells was very likely hooking up with Paris Hilton and partying with Katie (see below). At a mutual friend’s birthday dinner, that happened in the beginning of April, they were already not sitting next to each other anymore (Josie was wearing the grey cap and white shirt) and like 2 weeks later she unfollowed him finally. But that isn’t really a surprise, considering that she unfollowed and refollowed him so often during this short time to the point where fans couldn’t take it seriously anymore. She also wrote many cryptic tweets about him and allegedly deleted tweets prior to being with Kells, in which she was siding with Eminem and agreeing to everything he said about Kells during their beef. She’s also known for posting Eminem songs whenever she’s unhappy with Kells (till this day) and allegedly talked shit about him before, during and after their fling. I guess because he attacked Eminem and then she was unhappy, that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with her. However they seem to be on friendly terms now. Recently she even tried to flirt with him on Twitter again, but he still didn’t seem interested in her like that.

In my opinion Josie is probably too childish for Kells and brings too much stress. Kells is actually a chill guy and Josie seems like things need to go her way or she would throw a tantrum. She also has no problem with pda and publicly living her relationships, although I don’t think that’s so surprising, since she was part of reality tv shows before.

Katie Knobbe:

Instagram: katieknobbe

Twitter: KatieeKnobbe

Profession: wardrobe stylist

Relationship to Kells: I don’t know if she has styled him before, because of her job, but they seem to be in a friends with benefits situation, although some of us believe, that Katie caught some feelings for him. They probably know each other since 2018.

Summary: tbc

Nicky Mir:

Instagram: nicky.mir

Twitter: NickyMirXX

Profession: assistant

Relationship to Kells: Fans seem unsure of how long she has worked as Kells’ assistant and if she’s still working for him, but it has been at least a couple of years. She is also a huge fan and part of EST.

Sahara Ray:

Nicknames used on this blog: PG (Personal Groupie)

Instagram: sahara_ray

Twitter: Sahara_Ray_

Profession: Instagram model, owns her own swimwear line “Sahara Ray Swim”

Relationship to Kells: Very likely just an extended hook up, who joined him for a short period of time while on his tour with Young Thug in November 2019, although she acted like they were a proper couple throughout the whole time.

Summary: tbc

#girls girls girls #mgk #mgkconfessions

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