One thing I do look forward to about in-person work for the first time in four and a half years, even if it's 28 miles of travel both ways right during the worst winter months, is I can't be my father's free Chore Servant when he's too busy (read: disorganized and lazy) to sort things before he leaves for the day

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

188. Electric Touch

For once in her life, she's not running late. In fact, there's a full hour until he's coming to pick her up, and she's almost completely ready. Her makeup is done. Her hair is perfect. She tried on five different dresses before settling on this one for their date.

Their date. She's going on a date with Lenny Bruce.

She exhales a shuddering breath and resists the urge to bite her lip; she doesn't want to ruin the lipstick she'd so painstakingly applied just right. She reaches into her jewelry box, pulling out her earrings and putting them on with slightly shaky hands.

She's tried to fall in love. And it has always fallen apart. She even thought it had fallen apart with Lenny after Carnegie. But then, just as she was leaving to try to find her way home in that blizzard, his hand had circled her wrist, somehow both tender and firm. And he just said, "Look, I'm sorry I yelled, but I care about you too much to let you fuck up your career."

She stared at him, trying to muster up indignation, anger with him, but he was giving her those sad puppy dog eyes, and she couldn't manage anything other than gratitude.

Because she knew he was right. She knows he was right.

He offered to sleep on the couch, and she'd rolled her eyes. "We're adults. We can share a bed." He looked nervous at that, but he nodded and gave her one of his shirts to sleep in.

They turned their backs to one another under the covers, and she remembers being unable to sleep for the longest time with him so close and yet so far away.

Eventually, though, she had drifted off to sleep and woken up facing the other way, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

"Huh," he murmured as he woke up as well. "This is..."

She waited for a moment for him to finish, and when he didn't, she swallowed nervously and then said, "Nice?"

He chuckled. "I was gonna say 'unexpected', but yeah...it's nice."

She gets up from her vanity and slips into her shoes before going out into the living room. The kids are with Joel, and her parents are at the theatre, so there's not even someone in the apartment to distract her at the moment.

Fortunately the phone rings, and she grabs it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Jesus, you're fuckin' nervous," Susie grumbles on the other end.

She huffs at that. "I'm not nervous," she insists petulantly.

"Hey, you saw me stumbling over my words and forgetting who the fuck I was the first time I met him," Susie tells her, surprisingly comforting in this moment.

Midge furrows her brow. "Wow. You usually hate the guys I date. I expected you to fight this a hell of a lot more."

Susie scoffs. "Look, I'm not thrilled you're gonna date a comic, but at least this one's funny. You could do a hell of a lot worse than Lenny Bruce. Hell, you have done worse. You had kids with worse."

"My kids are great," Midge retorts.

"Yeah, are you sure they're Joel's?" Susie quips.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Midge squeaks.

Susie laughs in response. "I was fuckin' kidding, Midge! Shit."

The younger woman takes another deep breath and exhales slowly. "I know," she mutters. "I just...yeah, I'm really nervous. I really...I really want this to work," she admits, her voice quiet.

Susie groans. "Miriam, the guy's been in love with you for...well, basically forever. Just get your shit together. I don't think there's anything you could do to send him screaming into the night."

"Maybe show up in a wedding dress?" Midge asks.

"He'd just take you to fuckin' Atlantic City and call your bluff," Susie responds with a chuckle.

"Ah! Shit!"

Midge furrows her brow and looks toward the door. "What time is it?" She asks Susie.

"Uh, it's seven-thirty," Susie answers. "What, you don't have clocks in that fancy apartment?"

"He's not supposed to be here until eight!" Midge squeaks.

"Fuck, doesn't he know you're never on time?" Susie grumbles.

"I've been ready for thirty minutes."

There's silence on the other end. And then, "Fuck! You're already fucking in love with him!"

"Susie, I have to go," Midge says.

"You fuckin' f--"

She puts the phone down and smooths her dress before heading toward the door and opening it slowly, finding Lenny in the hallway, rubbing his knee with one hand and holding a bouquet of flowers in the other.

She tilts her head as she watches him, not yet aware of her presence, and she feels a wave of deep affection for him. "Chair jump out at you?" She asks with a grin.

His head snaps up at her, and he chuckles sheepishly. "Yeah, I haven't had the best luck with this building."

"Maybe I should move," she offers. "Wouldn't want to keep putting you in danger."

He grins and shakes his head. "Or maybe I should just stop pacing nervously because I was forty minutes early getting here." He looks down at the flowers in his hand before moving closer to her. He holds them out. "These are for you. Or your mother if I need to get on her good side," he jokes.

She grins and takes them, inhaling their scent. "They're beautiful, Lenny," she replies, opening the door wider and inviting him in. "So...forty minutes, huh?" She asks as he steps inside.

He shrugs, giving her a sheepish smile.

She heads toward the kitchen, inviting him to follow. "I'm usually ten minutes late for everything," she tells him as she pulls out a vase and fills it with water. "Tonight I was ready an hour early."

His anxiety seems to fade a bit, and he breathes, "Yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah."

He moves toward her then, and once she puts the flowers in the water, he reaches out and brushes a tendril of hair away from her eyes. He cups her cheek in his hand and gazes down at her for a moment before closing the distance and kissing her gently.

She melts immediately, the remainder of her nerves fading, and she wraps her fingers around the lapels of his jacket.

It's a long moment before he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. "Hungry?" He asks. "I made a reservation like a responsible adult."

"Will you steal my food again?" She teases.

"You did say you love that," he replies, laughing quietly.

She smiles and nods, letting him take her hand and lead her toward the door, where she grabs her purse. As they head for the elevator, she thinks that this could either break her heart or bring it back to life.

She has a pretty good feeling it'll be the latter.

MAG 49 - apple cutting

"Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London." - Oh, he uses a bit of a different melody in the sentence here. Less matter of fact, more like "God, I've said this a thousand times by now and I'm tired of it"

2:09 "Standard stuff, pretty boring really.", after "boring" it's veeery subtle but it sounds like a chair being shoved around.

3:04 "Hector worked IT", directly at "Hector" again, things shuffling around.

4:11 "Whatever, or whoever, his illicit liaisons involved", right after involved another noise… A phone ringing? Sound kinda chime-y.

"when Nicola called the next day" / "When I told her about the loss and the note, she sat down" - Wait, I thought she called… Were they video-calling or how did he know she sat down?

"If I hadn’t gotten greedy, I’d still have my arm." - Love this kind of story-telling! Throw in what the end's gonna be about and make us curious.

"There was something… not right about that hole. The texture of the walls was too smooth to be earth, and it seemed to… glisten wetly. It was when I saw the teeth that studded the inside of the fleshy throat that I realized what I was looking at" - In any way related to the Last Feast?

18:25 "Compared to the grim silence of the butcher’s workshop, it was beautiful.", at "butcher's workshop" again two quiet sounds, like that squealing sound when sliding a chair across the floor.

"There is no way to describe what it feels like to have bone pulled out of you through your unbroken skin." - Pay attention Jon, that's what awaits you in about one and a half years.

"I know it’s just phantom limb syndrome, but sometimes I swear it feels like my bone’s still out there, twisting in someone else’s arm." - I wonder if this, phantom limb syndrome, was the inspiration for Jared's ability/this statement.

"Sasha has recently been having problems with her normal backdoor access to police records, as, despite IT’s best efforts, her computer has broken yet again, making this the third time in the last two months." - So there are some limitation to the impersonation by the Not!Them. Special talents seem to be not part of the deal. Interesting. Dopplers from The Witcher (the books, not that disgrace of a show) for example are a perfect copy of the original in every way, even regarding their skills. Sometimes even better than the original. The first story to introduce a doppler had them change into a merchant (Halfling, if I remember correctly, it's been a while) who made a fortune by simply being very good at trading. I love that story, it's really funny.

"Apparently, he is involved both with one of the young ladies there, as well as the gentleman who manages the other shift." - Go get em, Tim! ;)

"The last thing I want is for the Archives to become involved in pointless personal drama." - Is this Jon, the Archivist, talking or Alex?

"it looks like he[Elias] only joined the Institute five years before in 1991" - Jon, red flag! Elias claimed to have worked as a filing clerk in 1972! This is not the same body!

"If I’m not reading too much into it, the implication seems to be that he was… ah, something of a pothead." - Haha, that laugh xD Also Jon, pls tell us about your uni days Mr. merry-go-rounds-are-thrilling.

Hey cut him some slack he was in a weird place at the time! xD

A Report! From Inside The Walls of Taylor

'I'm having such naughty thoughts of you in different scenarios with that little dress on too :3'

I read the text on the online chat room. 

And then I read it again. Going onto an 18+ chat room just to post pictures of myself in dresses for validation, how did it get to here? I had to lean into some form of attention. I had to feel seen, and if that was wrong

Why did it feel so right?

'Oh thank you 💛' I type back. The people here, they're nice. They see me. There's nothing wrong with wanting attention. I'm being perfectly reasonable. 'I'm gonna be honest, you have wonderful curves, you definitely got my preferred body type. You're absolutely beautiful and I'm just so thrilled you posted asking for opinions because wow…'

I smiled for a second because I felt like I reached a level of adoration I was looking for. Then, something from deep in my stomach twisted, there was regret. I thought I would feel better. I thought this would give me some sort of control over my life, that I was desperately craving, and now I no longer wished to be me. So instead, we'll focus on someone better than I could ever be. We'll focus on Taylor.

This story starts with a young lady named Taylor Peyton. Moving to the tiny town tucked away in Okaloosa County was not what she had originally wanted. What she had wanted was the stormy skies of New England and the dark secrets the land itself seemed to carry. Taylor loved all things dark, peculiar. She found herself enjoying things others tended to shy away from. These sunny beaches did not hold even an ounce of mystery that she found herself craving.

 She couldn't stay in Arizona though. There was no way she could, not after everything. The juxtaposition that she wanted to believe in something more, something supernatural and surreal, and that she didn't believe in it existing- this was not lost on her. That the very fact that it seemed so unlikely in her eyes. That she actively seeked out ways to prove herself wrong. To prove that there was some meaning behind the chaos in her life. Niceville was a letdown. Working at Mallmart, was a letdown.

So when the power outage first happened on that sunny Thursday, she hadn't thought anything of it at first.

And when she went to bed at night, after everything she had seen, after all the signs that there could be something out there, she sweeped those thoughts away as a simple dream. It wasn't until a hot and sunny Monday, that she began to suspect something was very  wrong. 

There in the gardening section of the store, Taylor felt at ease. People rarely bugged her in the gardening section. While everyone in Mallmart would agree that Taylor was the perfect employee-

The other associates, management, all the customers in a single disembodied voice- 

Taylor would still prefer silence to think, to reflect on her findings about the strange chain store in the middle of nowhere because she did not seek the constant validation of customers and coworkers alike. In this time of reflection the first thing she came to notice was a dark figure staring at her from the corner of the gardening department. "Hello sir? May I help you?" The figure remains silent, gazing at her silently. Taylor, undeterred by this turn of events, begins to walk towards the dark and shadowy figure. "Hello?" 

"Taylor!" The store's overseer materialized behind her. She turns to face him, opting to read his name tag rather than look the man in the eyes. "We're going to need you to pick stock from the backrooms, I-"

"An idiot is trying to contact you on your cellular device! An idiot is trying to contact you on your cellular device!" His phone chimed, and Taylor didn't miss his grimace. She found herself wondering if it was appropriate for the overseer to have this ring tone on their work cell. "Please don't be who I think it is.." He gave a nearly silent prayer, hissing through his lips before opening the old flip phone. "Hello?"

"Heeey, Mr. Greenwood." The man's scowl deepened at my voice over the phone. "About the modules being flexed in the home department, what-"

"Ciara, did you really need to call me for this? What did I tell you about emergencies only?"

"Another thing, and I think you'll find this imperative- there may be a small fire in electronics right now. Stacy had asked me to call you-"

"Put it out!"

"Okay, will do, but one thing- How old is this fire extinguisher? It's not-" He hung up abruptly. "I'm going to have to go bring her the working fire extinguisher. Just focus on the stock and not whatever you've been staring at for the last 15 minutes." Most people would've just gone back to work. Most people would've chalked this up to just a strange day, or their head playing tricks on them. As we established though, Taylor Peyton is not like most people.

"Where is Aiden? Did he get eaten by the customers?" I ask from across the break room. "No, he and Marni are waiting by the deli. I don't know how they can eat something so heavy on lunch break. Whenever I do that I always get sicky." She stares at me tentatively. "Okay, dude. My mother didn't believe I had ADHD until today when I actually got diagnosed!" Aiden comes into the room in a flourish. "I showed her the hand tremors and everything. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm also like, slightly on the spectrum too."

" I absolutely believe you have adhd, but that is not a symptom. You might have raynaud's syndrome. So wait, what makes you think you have autism? Because I have autism as well." She says, suddenly serious. 

"This is going to sound strange but speaking of symptoms of mental health, have you ever taken your clothes off in public because your clothes got wet?" I chime in. 

"What? Dude, no!"

"Oh…"

"Wait, there's a story behind this. What-"

"So one day, on the first day of first grade. It rained and so, in my infinite wisdom, I took off all my clothes, and got in trouble with my mother."

"I'm sure you did!"

"Another time," I continued, watching the alarm on Aiden's face. "I was getting ready to go to martial arts class and my ghee was still damp. My mother said we didn't have time to dry it completely so I… well I mean I dealt with it, but it was awkward when I had to practice kicks and a stream of toilet paper came flying from my pant leg-"

"You mummified yourself?"

"It was like a dirty magic trick."

"Dude really pulled a rock lee here-"

"Who?" I asked, and Aiden burst into barking laughter. "Don't mind him, he's sleep deprived." Taylor says pointedly. "You say that like you aren't!" And at this comment, Taylor fails to hide her guilty smile, face coloring like a blooming stargazer lily. 

And as entertaining the color of Taylor's face is, this was not where the story truly began. No, the story  began when break was over, and we were back on the sales floor. Taylor found herself thinking back to that morning. Taylor thought about all of her time working here. How it seemed like so much had happened in such a short time. How it seemed like so much that went against what she believed what seems absolute, now seemed impossibly possible. 'Surely, this was all in my head,' was what she thought to herself. 'Surely this is all my brain playing tricks on me.'

 She looked at the box in her hand, only to find that it didn't have a written store location on its backroom label. She breathed out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before pulling out her scanner. 'No Sales floor location.' Even when Taylor cut into the box and pulled out the stock to scan, it still refused to tell her where the item belonged, stubbornly. So, that was why she found herself making her way back through the store to where Aiden and I were. 

Someone else was making their way to the far corner of the store as well though. Someone who would leave us all questioning the nature of our own heads, and this small little town tucked away in Okaloosa County. "The UPC label on this looks damaged!" Taylor called, but her voice did not raise much louder than her usual speaking voice. It was enough for Aiden to hear all the same. "Let me see that," He grumbles, but pauses his advance when his gaze flickers up. A sound caught her attention, hauntingly distinct against the dull hustle and bustle of Mallmart. Taylor heard something wet and nauseating, flesh like cracking, tendons popping. Something was very wrong, because now Aiden and I were hugging onto each other. 'Those two don't even like each other,' she thought, turning her gaze to see what was the issue. Before Taylor could truly comprehend what she was seeing, she was moving back, back far behind the two cowaring together in a huddled position asking if they saw what the other saw. 

Muscles and sinew all twitching, veins and arteries moving, vividly, pulsing with the life that should be impossible for a man lacking this much skin, she could see his heart moving, sinking down almost impossibly in his chest when he looked at her. She couldn't make out what he was saying but it sounded like he was retching out a name; her name. He was vomiting up her name in a guttural, disturbed sound.

 Aiden shoved me in front to deal with this man, but I stayed quiet for a moment, trying to understand what was happening. Customers passed by, undisturbed. Mallmart continued on in a sickening harmony. "Hello sir, h-how may I help you today?" I smile tightly, looking him up and down. His teeth were gripped out like a racehorse. His frame was blurry, as if dislodged in time.

"̵̨̥̬̲̖̼̙̻̫̫̝̗̎̌͝ͅÎ̸̢͔̗̲̫̈́͠͝ţ̴̨̢͍̘̩̯̘̙͔̞̤͔͛̀́͑̋̿̎̓͘̚̚͝͠ͅî̴̻̩̜̓̕ ̶̟̺̀̊͊̎͌͌̆̈́̋̂̚̚͝͝ạ̷̛̖̬͙̓̈́̐̀̃͆̑͝ḿ̸̛̖̤̽͋̒̏̋̾̃̅̈́̐̄̅̕i̵̡̛͚̫̫̖̟͉͉͖͚͎̭̦̫̝̽̂̍͊̆̓͆͠͝n̴̤̪͒̓̏̃̄̈͆́̍̑͘̕͠t̸̩͉̤͔͎̬͑ḙ̷̡̞̪̼̮͓̫͈̹̍̈́̌̌̚͠ͅş̴̨̹͒̎̔̕ͅt̴̢̛̯̤͈̪̹̗̣̪͂͋̂̽͐͌̈́͌́͌͝͠ȉ̶̧̼̹̤̲̳̘̗̝̖̬̯̓͗̀́̀͗̍͆͜ͅ ̴̗̺̼̞̲̦͓̹̖͕̏̋̈́̈́̓̊̾̃̑̃̈̾̓͜d̸̢̬͕̝̳͓̣͈̜̩̠͎̤͓̓̄͜͝ë̷̫̘͙̯̒̋͒̽̌̒̀̀̌̑͜ ̴̢̛̞̩͚̮̰̻͍̠̬̤̫̅͋͗̉͑̉͑̈́̕̕m̸̨̧̢͉̙̰̞̪͈͉̯̤̻͉͂̽͊̅̉̇̄͗͊̔̅̿͗i̴̢̧̊̅͆̉͝ṉ̷̥̥͉̪͈̫̼̘͙̹͘̚͝e̷̩͍͉̼͙͕̯̖͖̿̾͑̉ͅͅ"̸̨̢̧̥̩̠̱̹̥̹̰̲͓͈́͐͊̌̔̈́̉͂͛͌͛̉͘͝͝ͅ

"I'm sorry sir, I don't' und-derstand your accent. You see, I'm from up north and-"

"̵̨̥̬̲̖̼̙̻̫̫̝̗̎̌͝ͅÎ̸̢͔̗̲̫̈́͠͝ţ̴̨̢͍̘̩̯̘̙͔̞̤͔͛̀́͑̋̿̎̓͘̚̚͝͠ͅî̴̻̩̜̓̕ ̶̟̺̀̊͊̎͌͌̆̈́̋̂̚̚͝͝ạ̷̛̖̬͙̓̈́̐̀̃͆̑͝ḿ̸̛̖̤̽͋̒̏̋̾̃̅̈́̐̄̅̕i̵̡̛͚̫̫̖̟͉͉͖͚͎̭̦̫̝̽̂̍͊̆̓͆͠͝n̴̤̪͒̓̏̃̄̈͆́̍̑͘̕͠t̸̩͉̤͔͎̬͑ḙ̷̡̞̪̼̮͓̫͈̹̍̈́̌̌̚͠ͅş̴̨̹͒̎̔̕ͅt̴̢̛̯̤͈̪̹̗̣̪͂͋̂̽͐͌̈́͌́͌͝͠ȉ̶̧̼̹̤̲̳̘̗̝̖̬̯̓͗̀́̀͗̍͆͜ͅ ̴̗̺̼̞̲̦͓̹̖͕̏̋̈́̈́̓̊̾̃̑̃̈̾̓͜d̸̢̬͕̝̳͓̣͈̜̩̠͎̤͓̓̄͜͝ë̷̫̘͙̯̒̋͒̽̌̒̀̀̌̑͜ ̴̢̛̞̩͚̮̰̻͍̠̬̤̫̅͋͗̉͑̉͑̈́̕̕m̸̨̧̢͉̙̰̞̪͈͉̯̤̻͉͂̽͊̅̉̇̄͗͊̔̅̿͗i̴̢̧̊̅͆̉͝ṉ̷̥̥͉̪͈̫̼̘͙̹͘̚͝e̷̩͍͉̼͙͕̯̖͖̿̾͑̉ͅͅ"̸̨̢̧̥̩̠̱̹̥̹̰̲͓͈́͐͊̌̔̈́̉͂͛͌͛̉͘͝͝ͅ

I looked back to see Taylor was already gone, because Taylor is a woman of action. She sees danger, and she acts. She wouldn't be here with us today, if she didn't. So when something this troubling happened, Taylor didn't wait to see what would happen next. Pulse thumping against her neck, she ran over to where the phone in the gardening center sat. 

And then, she dialed the tone for Okaloosa emergency services.

Forbidden (Finale)

Warnings: mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: this took a literal month and I'm so sorry. I had so much going on in life, on top of not knowing how I wanted to end this. There will be an epilogue at some point! Thank you to everyone who enjoyed this series!!

Tag list: (also if you were added to this for this series, and want to be tagged in other works of mine, just let me know!)

@k-k0129 @little-lovesick-mess @abrunettefangirlnerd @dudinhahoff @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @hmspogueobx

______________________________________

“I’m guessing it went well?” Rafe asks as I jump into his truck with a big smile.

“Well he’s not exactly thrilled, but he’s not gonna try to stop us.” I say, pulling him close so I can kiss him. He places his hands on either side of my face, deepening this kiss. When I feel the butterflies in my stomach I get with every kiss, I can’t help but think back to that first night at the bonfire when he invited me to his house for the first time. I think about every thing that happened to get us to here, kissing in his truck, no longer scared of being seen. I realize now that even though it hasn’t been a super long time, that I love him.

He breaks the kiss and buries his face in my neck, wrapping his arms around me. We stay like this for several minutes, just holding each other in his truck. Eventually he pulls away and puts puts the truck into drive.

“You ready?” He asks, smiling at me.

“Ready for what?”

“Our first actual date.” He says as he begins driving.

“Rafe, I am not dressed for a date.” I say, gesturing down to my tank top and shorts.

He grabs my hand as he’s driving. “I don’t care. I finally get to show you off, I’m going to do it.”

I sigh, leaning back into the seat. Of course I’m excited to actually go out somewhere together, not having to hide in the shadows anymore. I can’t help but feel nervous though. Out in public, eyes on us.. it’s nerve wracking. He finally pulls into a parking lot of the small diner in town.

“Somewhere casual, so you can stop worrying about your outfit, okay?” He says after he parks. He brings my hand to his lips and gives it a small kiss. “You ready?”

I’m still nervous, but I give him a smile and nod at him. Guess we’re ripping off the bandaid of letting everyone know.

Once we get inside and sat at a table, I start feeling more relaxed. We're actually having a good time, and I feel all the nerves melting away, and let the excitement take over. I’m on my first real date with my boyfriend.

It's a little strange to think about the fact I don't have to be paranoid about who's seeing us. When he reaches across the table to take ahold of my hand, it's okay if we're noticed. I'm sure we're going to have to deal with comments and rude remarks from some people as the rest of our friends find out, but the only person who's opinion really matters enough to change anything already knows, and has given the green light.

After we finish our meals and are heading back to the truck, Rafe grabs my hand and squeezes it gently. "I promise the next date will be at a fancy, romantic place."

"Rafe, I don't need fancy. As long as you're there, it's perfect." I say while looking up to smile at him.

"Will you stay over tonight?" He asks as we're getting into his truck.

"Of course." I say, leaning to kiss his cheek.

We spend the drive in a comfortable silence. Him focusing on the road, and me scrolling through my phone as a few texts start popping up.

Kie: jj is fucking with us, right?

JB: those camerons, man. amiright?

Pope: as long as your happy, that's all that matters.

Pope: but we'll kill him if needed.

Sarah: proud of you for telling him

Laughing as I read their messages, I lock my phone, deciding to respond later.

"What's so funny?" Rafe asks as he parks in the driveway.

"Just my friends. JJ must have told them about us."

"So a bunch of death threats towards me?" He asks as we are walking inside.

"Only one. And only if needed." I grin as he rolls his eyes.

"Good to know." He says, leading me to his room, even though I know exactly how to get there at this point.

"To be fair, I think they'd made that threat to any guy I dated." I say, earning a look from him. "But they probably mean it more with you than they would with someone else." I add, with a devilish grin.

"Oh yeah?" He says, placing his hands on my waist and backing me against the wall after he closes his bedroom door. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers playing with the back of his hair.

"Oh, I'm sure of it." I reply, still grinning at him. "So best not to give them any reason too."

He leans down to me, lips brushing against mine. "Mm, don't plan on it." He mumbles against my lips, before connecting them fully. I arch my back to push myself into him more, while he deepens the kiss. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me towards his bed.

"Hey Rafe?" I say once we're on the bed, and his lips attach to my neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks against my skin.

"No, it's not that," he lifts his head up, his eyes meeting mine, "you, uh, told me to let you know... I'm ready, Rafe."

His eyes get slightly wider, "Are you sure?" He asks softly.

"Positive."

He sets his hand on the side of my face and leans down to give me a deep kiss.

"If at any point you want to change your mind, just say the word and I'll stop, okay?"

"Okay." I shyly smile at him, and connect our lips again.

****************

The next morning, I wake up still entangled in Rafe's arms. Neither of us are wearing anything, just the blankets draped over our bodies.

I run my fingers gently up and down his arm as I reply last night in my head. He was so gentle and patient the whole night, and made sure the entire experience was perfect. He truly makes me so incredibly happy.

"Morning." I hear him say, and tilt my head up to look at him.

"Good morning." Kissing his cheek as I say this. He tightens his arms around me and pulls me closer to him, digging his face into my neck.

"I love you, y/n." He says, making my insides turn to mush, and making my heart pound.

"I love you, too." I whisper. He pulls his face out of my neck to kiss me.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom," he mumbles before kissing me again. He sighs contently before climbing out of bed. When he reaches the door to the bathroom he turns around. "You should check Instagram, by the way." He closes the door behind him before I can ask why.

I grab my phone and open the app, ignoring a few more texts from my friends. When I see Rafe's post, I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach, and tears prick at my eyes. He has posted a bunch of the pictures we had taken together that we hadn't been able to share. But it's the caption that had me feeling this way, and made everything we'd been through feel worth it. And I can't wait to see how our future goes.

Rafe_Cameron: I love this woman, and I don't care what any of you have to say about it.

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 2

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2075

Additional note: In Norway, you are of age at 18.

Enjoy 🙂

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"... don't start eating until your brother joins us."

As he pushes himself down the large hallway leading to the kitchen, Ivar can hear Lagertha's assertive voice. He knows exactly who she's talking to and his suspicions are confirmed as soon as he enters the room, as a very displeased and apparently famished Hvitserk looks at him with irritation before letting out a muffled, "it's 'bout time."

"Sorry, I must have dozed off." Shrugging, Ivar wheels up to the kitchen table, the smell of pizza tickling his nostrils. He must be hungrier than he thought.

"You look like Hel." Sigurd sneers in greeting.

Ivar, without bothering to look up, just tilts his head and hisses through clenched teeth, "coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a compliment."

He can feel Lagertha's gaze upon him and when he turns his head toward her, she is staring at him, the worry obvious in her eyes.

"I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that but Sigurd isn't wrong." She crosses the room and leans over, her brow furrowed. "You look exhausted, sweetie, what's going on?"

Ivar almost wants to laugh. He looks exhausted? No kidding? Yeah, guess what? That's what two sleepless nights in a row usually do to you. At least that's what they did to him. What you did to him, haunting his nights and even haunting his dreams, waking him up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the few times he managed to fall asleep. At least, he'd made up his mind early this morning. Hopefully, now that the decision has been made, he'll sleep better. Saturday night, he'll see you again. His heart is racing at the thought and he inhales deeply, trying to calm down.

Unsurprisingly persistent, Lagertha asks again as she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Ivar, are you all right?"

He wishes he could just ignore his stepmom but knows she won't let it rest. Unwilling to admit that he owes his restless nights to a girl - to you - he decides to keep his answer vague. "So-so," he mumbles, slightly rocking his right hand.

"You're in pain? Do you need more meds? I could run to the drugstore really quick."

For once, he doesn't resent Ubbe for his well-meant yet patronizing kindness, nor for the pitying look he gives him. Actually, he silently thanks him for the good diversion. As long as his brothers and Lagertha believe that it's his legs that bother him, keeping him awake, his secret - you - will be safe.

Faking a small, sheepish smile, Ivar shakes his head. "Thanks bro, but that's okay, I have everything I need. Guess I should just double-up the tramadol tonight." He winces for good measure, knowing fully well he won't even need a single dose. The pain in his legs today is barely at four, nothing he can't handle.

Once the meal is almost over – which in plain English means that everyone but Hvitserk has finished eating, but thanks to Lagertha principle 'no one leaves the table until everyone has finished, boys', they're all stuck here – Ivar decides it's time to break the news.

"I'm gonna go to the party."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kitchen falls quiet. Even Hvitserk stops chewing, putting his last slice of pizza back on his plate.

Not knowing what to do with the silence, and feeling a little awkward, Ivar explains further, a hand on his neck, "the midsummer party, I mean. Harald's party."

"We heard you just fine, sweetie." Lagertha is the first to pull herself together, even though the disbelief is clear in her voice. As Ivar looks up, his brothers are staring at him, slack-jawed, bewildered, probably wondering what's got into their baby brother.

"Let me get this straight." With widened eyes, Ubbe starts running both hands through his hair, "you are considering attending Harald's party, right? That's... That's what you said?"

"Yep." Ivar shrugs as if it was no big deal. Who is he kidding? Of course, it is! Attending the party is a fucking huge deal for him. There's no way in Hel he'll admit it, though. Not in front of his brothers. No fucking way!

"I'm not sure I understand..." Ubbe sounds cautious and it infuriates Ivar to no end.

"What part of 'I'm gonna go to the party' don't you get, brother? Huh? Too many big words for you?" He wants to keep going but when Lagertha clears her throat and gives him a stern look, he faintly raises an apologetic hand while muttering under his breath, "okay, okay, I'll stop."

Heaving a sigh, he shrugs once more. "Seriously, you don't all have to look so surprised. I just want to go to Harald's party. It's really not that big of a deal."

"But you never wanted to, sweetie. Why now?" Lagertha's eyes are wide open and there's a frown on her forehead as she crosses her arms.

"Why not?" Ivar can't help but raise his voice. "I'm sixteen, Lagertha! Thought I was entitled to a change of heart. Was I wrong?" Pointing a finger successively at each of his brothers, his free hand grabs his push rim, his knuckles white. "The three of you attend every year, why shouldn't I?" Looking directly at Lagetha once again, he asks in a clipped voice, "You're not going to tell me I can't go, are you?"

"Of course not, sweet–" She begins but Ubbe cuts her off.

"Listen Ivar, no one is saying you shouldn't go, not yet at least. As a matter of fact, no one would be more pleased than I if you were willing to go out more. Playing pool, going to the movies, or just having drinks, you know you're always welcome to come along with us. But..." Ubbe groans, rubbing his hands over his face and Ivar stiffens, grinding his teeth, "Harald's party, really? It's not going to work. You know it takes place on the beach, it's not exactly wheelchair-friendly."

Reluctantly taking his eyes off his slice of pizza, Hvitserk jumps in. "Ivar is our brother, if he wants to go, we find a way. That's it - I'll carry him."

Positively surprised, a small smile playing on his lips, Ivar thanks his brother with a nod, glad – and relieved too, because two are always better than one, right? – that Hvitserk, as so often, backs him up. Of all his brothers, he's the only one who sees him first as a sixteen-year-old and not as a cripple.

Ubbe is having none of it though. "Hvitserk, just stay out of this, okay?" He's practically shouting, chin up and chest out. "You don't have a say! I'm the oldest, not you! I don't think it's a good idea for Ivar to attend Harald's party, period."

Hvitserk furrows his brow and for a short moment, Ivar thinks his brother is going to fight back but eventually he lowers his gaze, defeated, before shoving the whole slice of pizza into his mouth. Ivar knows all too well that his brother, who's not the most tenacious of them, hates confrontation, especially with Ubbe.

Unlike him, Ivar is always ready to pick up a fight, even when it's not worth it, even when he is wrong. Today, though, it's definitely worth it.

His nostrils flaring, he smashes his fist down on the table, his face crumpled with anger. "Who do you think you are, Ubbe? You may be the oldest, but you're not my father, okay? So please, just do me a favor, brother, and read my lips." His voice dripping with sarcasm, his bottom lips quivering, Ivar is absolutely livid, "You. Don't. Have. A. Say. Period."

Ubbe is about to retort, his hands clenched into fists but Lagertha raises a hand, shutting him up. "Boys, boys, boys!" Glancing at Ubbe and then at Ivar, she shakes her head, not exactly thrilled with their outburst. "Now, calm down, both of you. Ubbe, Ivar is right. You may be his big brother, you may be an adult, but you're not his father. I know you mean well but as Ivar's guardian, I have the final say." Turning her head toward Ivar, she cracks him a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Just the two of us."

***

Slamming the door shut, Ivar wheels up right next to his bed and, angling his chair just right, transfers over onto his bed before punching the wall, a roar escaping his lips. Big tears of frustration and anger run down his cheeks as Sigurd's words linger in his mind.

He had been surprised when his less-favorite brother had stayed out of the conversation.

He should have known better.

No sooner had Lagertha, Ubbe and Hvitserk left – she to make a phone call, they to join Margrethe – leaving them to tidy up the kitchen, than Sigurd had lashed out at him with harsh words and eyes full of spite.

"You messed up in the head, huh? It's a fucking beach, Ivar, you do realize your front wheels will get stuck in sand, right? Now tell me, little brother, do you really think we are going to carry your crippled ass around all night? Let me tell you, it's not going to happen! There will be so many better ways for us to spend the night. Girls, you know? Lots of them. Am I going to let you embarrass me and ruin my night? No! Not in a million years. And anyway, why do you even want to go? Get real, Ivar, you don't belong there, you just don't. You're a fucking cripple, a freak, an abnormality. No one wants you there. No one wants to see you. The sooner you accept it the better."

He knows Sigurd was intentionally trying to hurt him. And fuck, he did succeed. Ivar had felt so humiliated that it had brought bile to his throat.

At some point, while Sigurd was spitting his venom, Ivar had grabbed the large knife lying on the table and it took all his self-control not to stab his brother. No doubt his shrink would be proud of him.

Now though in his room, and even if he is boiling with anger, the nagging thought that Sigurd had a point, that he wasn't completely wrong, doesn't leave him. And he can see now that, in his own weird way, Ubbe was trying to protect him. By preventing him from going, his big brother wanted to spare him humiliation, pity, and mockery. Hvitserk, of course, had been willing to help, but let's face it, Sigurd once again was right. Piggy-back riding is not really an option anymore, he is too heavy. Plus, if he's being honest, even if it were still possible, it's the last thing he'd want. The mere thought of you seeing him on Ubbe's or Hvitserk's back makes him nauseous. Which puts him back to square one.

The beach is a problem and a huge one. Wheeling in sand is a no-go. It's just fucking impossible. If he doesn't come up with an idea soon, he's not going to be physically able to attend the party. And that's something he doesn't want to consider.

"I need a fucking genius idea!" He speaks out loud, cracking his knuckles, his eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck.

He just wants to see you. Y/N... Just you. And he won't be able to.

Fuck. Fucking sand! Fucking beach! Fucking legs! Fuck– Stop.

Wait.

What... What did he say?

He needs an idea... A genius idea. Genius. That's it.

A slow smile spreads across his face.

Good thing he knows an authentic genius, right?

Grabbing his phone, he frantically slides his pointer finger on the screen, sighing with relief as he finds the contact he is looking for.

"Hello, Ivar," the man answers after two rings, and his voice brings an even bigger smile to Ivar's lips, "it's very sweet of you to call me."

"Hello to you too, you spindly legged, knock-kneed old fool. There might be something that you can do for me. I want to attend Harald's party. It'll take place on the beach. My brothers won't carry me and I can't really crawl about, can I? I wonder if you could help me, Floki?"

Ivar's godfather lets out a high-pitched chuckle before answering, "I'll figure something out, dear Ivar, I'll figure something out."

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Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?

Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.

"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.

"Yes please."

He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.

He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.

"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.

"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.

"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.

"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."

"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.

It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.

"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.

It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.

Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.

"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.

"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.

Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.

Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.

"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.

"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."

After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.

As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.

"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.

"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.

"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.

"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.

"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.

"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.

He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.

The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.

He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.

Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.

His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.

"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."

"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.

"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—

"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.

"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."

"What?" Harry is mortified.

"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.

Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?

Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.

He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.

Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.

There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.

Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.

He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.

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Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

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TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson // @mellamolayla

Next chapter

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 6 - Tarot

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the sixth part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter Six – A Carnival Reading

Bickslow had claimed it was an accident, but Laxus called bullshit. To Laxus, this seemed as though it was Bickslow and Evergreen's way of giving their new relationship their blessing. But Laxus didn't particularly care, because he had woken up sharing a relatively small bed with Freed, arm wrapped around the man's waist while pulling him close, and the man nuzzled into his chest as he slept. And, although Laxus had no intention on trying, he couldn't think of a better thing to wake up to.

With a soft smile, he shuffled slightly and pulled Freed closer. The sleeping man hummed and moved his head, revealing a small smile on his face.

This was rather a charmed life, and Laxus could get used to it.

But that was wishful thinking. They'd had their first sober kiss only a day prior, and it had exhilarated Laxus to a point no other relationships had. After that, they'd spent some time atop the RV's roof, Laxus looking up at the stars while Freed continued his book. That too had been exhilarating in a way Laxus couldn't put into words. After that, they'd eaten with Bickslow and Evergreen, spoken about how they were something of a couple but hadn't yet put a label on it, but they certainly weren't platonic.

Their friends had been supportive of that. They knew both men weren't the most emotionally vulnerable people, it seemed.

And now Laxus had woken up in the small double bed at the back of the RV, with Freed in his arms. Seeing as the man was sleeping softly, Laxus leant down and pressed his lips against the crown of Freed's head, smiling down at him.

"That was adorable," Evergreen's voice cut through the silence, and made Laxus' head snap up. He didn't think she was awake. "I didn't know you had it in you to be sweet."

"Shut up," Laxus groaned, voice a tired croak. He quickly glanced through the rest of the RV and his eyes settled on Bickslow, who was curled up awkwardly in the passenger side seat snoring and drooling onto the pillow he was spooning. He was glad that only Evergreen had seen that, as Bickslow would have gone into an overly dramatic meltdown. Which would have woken Freed up and ended the situation.

Huh. Laxus really meant it when he said he cared more for Freed than his dignity.

"I won't say anything more," Evergreen said with a smile. It was annoyingly kind. "I just think its nice. Besides, after you fell asleep we took loads of pictures," Laxus glared at her, and she laughed. "I'm joking. Well, I think so. I fell asleep before Bix so you might want to check."

"Thanks for the warning," Laxus said softly, perhaps sarcastically.

"Well, I'm only really being nice because I have something else I need to tell you," Evergreen said with a small trace of guilt in her tone. "I found that we're pretty close to a well-reviewed circus carnival, and I mentioned it to Bickslow. As you can guess, we're spending the day there."

"Why d'you need to butter me up for that?" Laxus said, not aware that he was running his hands through Freed's soft hair.

"Well, Bickslow made it pretty clear that we'd be leaving the two of you alone," Evergreen sighed. "Essentially, we're forcing you on your first date. Which might be a tad annoying to your plan of not putting labels on what you are."

Laxus glanced down at the sleeping man in the bed with him, and smiled softly. While they were taking things as they came, it certainly wasn't a bad thing that they would be spending the day together.

"I'm sure we can handle it," Laxus said softly.

"You're a hero," Evergreen laughed quietly. "Well, since you're awake now, I'm going to go for a little morning walk. See you later; oh, and keep up the kisses because it's adorable."

If he weren't wrapped around Freed, he might have thrown the pillow at the woman's retreating figure. Instead he did his best to raise his middle finger at the woman without moving Freed to a point where he would awaken. Evergreen let out a quiet laugh as she left the RV, leaving Laxus as the only person awake in the truck. As he was essentially alone, he looked down at the man wrapped up against him.

Freed really was a man of many faces, all damn appealing. Right now, his contented sleeping expression was pretty damned cute. But the night before, on the roof of the RV, he had been more handsome than any man Laxus had laid eyes on. Even the smug and cocky expression he had given Laxus when challenging him to a race at the waterpark had been hot.

It was really quite unfair that he got to be that attractive in that many ways.

"Urgh," Freed murmured quietly, and Laxus looked down at him with an expression of quiet contentment.

"Morning," He greeted.

"Morning," Freed parroted, eyes fluttering open softly. He smiled when he made eye contact with Laxus. "Well you're rather cuddly, aren't you?" Freed chuckled, but cushioned the tease with a soft kiss against Laxus' jaw.

"People always get shocked by that," Laxus commented quietly. "I've never understood why."

"Oh I fully expected you to enjoy hugging, why else would you have a body like this," Freed chuckled, moving slightly so his head was level with Laxus'. "I just expected that being in the presence of the human embodiment of annoying gossip might make you a little hesitant."

"With another guy, maybe," Laxus said the words before he could think. Was that too far for their relationship?

"You're charming too," Freed replied with a soft chuckle. "I thought that was going to be my thing."

"I gotta keep you on yer toes somehow," Laxus said with a grin. "Speaking of, Ever warned me that Bix's been plotting and apparently they're taking us to some carnival or something, and they're gonna ditch us and basically put us on a date together. You okay with that?"

"Of course," Freed nodded a little, and his nose gently traced Laxus'. "Spending time alone with you is quickly becoming a pastime of mine that I love, so you can safely assume I'll enjoy any dates we might go on. Forced on us or otherwise."

"I'm glad," Laxus smiled, jutting his chin forward so he could press his lips against Freed's in a chaste kiss. It sent a shock through him. "And I'll get to kick your ass at carnival games."

"Rather cocky attitude there, Laxus," Freed chuckled. "Misplaced, too."

"You said something similar when you challenged me to the water park race," Laxus grinned. "And remind me, who's got their lock screen as a picture of them on a waterslide screaming like they're about to piss themself."

"True, but in a carnival, you can't repeatedly push me into water and trip me up just to get your way," Freed said with a good-natured smile.

"You're really underestimating how much I like winning," Laxus grinned. "But if your so confident, we can make a bet."

"You truly are a competitive man, Mr Dreyar. I like it," Freed chuckled. "How about the loser pays for our first real date, and the winner choses what the date is."

"Sounds fun," Laxus smiled, leaning down, and pressing their lips together.

It was a slow and somewhat sloppy kiss, and both men melted into it without any difficulty. Laxus brought up one of his hands to cup Freed's cheek, smiling as the man in his arms pushed further into the embrace. Even in his half-awake state, Laxus felt a thrilling rush of excitement flow through him. Freed really did have some kind of effect on him that he couldn't describe, nor did he care to try. Because that moment was perfect.

Well, it would have been perfect. But then they heard the sound of Bickslow's phone taking a picture, followed by a loud cackling.

~~~

"I feel this is what Bickslow's mind must be like."

At Freed's comment, Laxus let out an undignified snort. The two men were walking side by side in the carnival, looking forward at the large and flashy spectacle before them. Multiple stalls lined a long pathway leading towards a circus tent, of which Bickslow was dragging Evergreen towards. Past the tent were large attractions and rides, each blurting out energetic music. It was somewhat overwhelming, but was helped by the fact the mass crowds had yet to arrive.

"I always thought it'd be a nightclub," Laxus commented, grinning. "A really loud and tacky one."

"I can see that," Freed agreed, and Laxus felt a chill run down his spine as Freed's hand grazed his own. "I haven't been to a carnival like this in years. The town I grew up in used to host one once a year."

"You used to enjoy it?" Laxus asked, looking down at the other man with a smile.

"Not exactly," Freed said with a chuckle. "It only started when I was a teenager, and I deemed myself too educated and adult to enjoy myself. So I mostly spent them in my bedroom reading, and wishing death on the people who turned the music up so loud that I could hear it half a mile away."

"So you were an edgy teenager huh?" Laxus asked with a teasing grin. "You know if you had a goth phase then you have to show me pictures so I can laugh at ya."

"Fortunately, I didn't," Freed said with a smile. "But the same goes for you. If you've any embarrassing childhood photos then it's required I see them."

"That's fair, I guess," Laxus nodded. "But don't think I didn't see what you just did. I asked for goth pics, you asked for embarrassing pics. So if I show you anything embarrassing, you gotta compensate."

"I had hoped you hadn't noticed that" Freed chuckled good naturedly.

The two continued walking down the row of stalls, eyeing the food vendors. It was a little after when they usually ate lunch, and they had decided that they'd get something to eat before playing any of the games or visiting any other attractions. That way there were nothing to distract them from the bet they had made, and neither man could blame their losses on being hungry. Laxus paled a little when Freed suggested that, as feigning weakness from hunger had been an option if he lost at a game he should have won.

After eventually settling on a food vendor with sweet smelling meat wafting from their stall, they had a quick meal and further discussed the rules of their gamble. They would both play every game available in a clockwise pattern, and would work with a points system. In the event of a draw, they would flip a coin.

The first game they played was an archery range, which was relatively simple. Laxus had gone first, claiming he had earned that by winning their race at the water park. He had done okay, managing to hit the target with each of his arrows, though with a wide range of points. He ended up with sixteen over his four arrows, which was a serviceable score. But the look on Freed's face told Laxus that the man was confident that he could win.

He did.

He got eighteen points, and even Laxus could see that there was a lot less luck in Freed's performance. Laxus would have focused on that, had he not been distracted by the confident posture, determined expression and flexing arms as he pulled the string back and took aim.

"That was," Laxus began when Freed returned with a satisfied expression. "Kinda hot, honestly."

"I'm glad you think so," Freed said, and his voice was just slightly deeper than normal. He leant forward so that their faces were almost touching, but stopped just short. "Consider it a consolation prize, as I'm winning."

The smug expression on the man's face drove Laxus almost as crazy as his teasing had. And he could do was let out a muttered 'asshole' before following in his footsteps.

They continued making their way through the games at a leisurely pace, playing each of them and teasing each other as they did so. They fell into a quick pattern where the winner of the individual game would flaunt their victory in a flirtatious and teasing way, and the loser would have to stand there and take it. Laxus felt a rush every time, because the ease at which he could be his competitive self with the other man shocked him. The fact Freed was just as confident in himself was an added bonus.

None of his past attempts at relationships had been like this. In fact, he had been so busy trying not to show the more flawed side of himself that he often forgot to be himself. With Freed, it felt like the inverse of that.

After the archery game, they had moved onto a game where they had a minute to score as many points with a basketball hoop. They had been relatively evenly matched, but Laxus' high school year as a basketball player gave him an edge. He gloated his victory by rolling up his sleeve and flexing his bicep, with a teasing 'these ain't just to look at' aimed at Freed. He didn't miss the other man's smirk at the movement.

Next was a game wherein you threw darts at balloons, and each balloon you popped had a certain score inside of it. They had five darts each, and Laxus managed to win that too. He had wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders and made a gloating show about how he had won two games in a row, and Freed had not.

The next game had them both aiming water pistols at moving targets. The person who inflated their target's balloon fasted would win, and Freed proved to have better aim. Rather than gloating, he had twisted his water gun to the side so that a cold splash of water hit Laxus on the side.

"I'm gonna get you back for that," Laxus promised, grinning.

"Why," Freed feigned innocence. "I thought you might need some cooling off. Losing that badly got you rather heated."

"So, you thought I looked hot, huh?" Laxus said, crossing his arms.

"No," Freed said, not shying from Laxus' gaze. "I thought you looked warm. You looking hot is a… continuing issue."

Laxus grinned at the compliment, but shunted his own water gun to the side so a stream of water hit the other man. Freed let out a small noise of protest, but laughed it off as the owner of the stall asked them both to move along for the next customers. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders as they walked, and murmured into his ear.

"You looked pretty hot yourself," He said with a grin.

"I'm aware," Freed snarked back, and Laxus laughed with a grinned.

This was new as well, the ease of flirtation. It was ridiculous to think that a day ago, Laxus had been beating himself up for the idea of having some kind of crush on Freed, and now he was openly calling the guy hot in public. It was a testament to how comfortable Freed had managed to make him, Laxus supposed.

As they walked to the next stall, they noticed how different it was. Whereas the others were open and painted with bright colours, this stall was a small purple tent with dark colours and candles surrounding it. A sign beside the door claimed 'Mistress Cana Alberona's Tarot.' Laxus rolled his eyes.

"You don't believe in fortune telling?" Freed asked, apparently having seen the eye movement.

"Nah," Laxus shrugged, then looked down at Freed curiously. "Do you?"

"No, I think it's absurd. The idea that some cards magically know the intricate futures of everyone, or the fact your personality and what you'll do is written on your hand is ridiculous," Laxus chuckled a little at Freed's dismissal of the subject. "For whatever reason, it seems like everyone I know believes in it though."

"I know," Laxus grinned. "Ever once dragged me to a psychic. We got kicked out when I found her 'one of a kind crystal ball' on Amazon for twelve dollars."

"A merciful escape for you, then," Freed smirked.

Laxus agreed, but was then struck with an idea. He reached into his pocket and fished out a coin, flipping it in the air and catching it quickly. He covered it before he or Freed could see which side it had landed on, and looked to the other man with a challenging smile. Freed looked back at him with confusion.

"Heads or tails," Laxus demanded. "You get it right; I'll get a fortune. Get it wrong, you have to get one."

"Okay," Freed nodded. "Heads."

Laxus revealed the coin, and deflated at the sight of a clear head facing upwards. Freed sent him a grin that rivalled Bickslow's for its enjoyment of suffering, and he had the balls to pat the man on the shoulder in a faux comforting way. Laxus looked at the tent with a pained expression; he really couldn't be bothered to deal with the overly dramatic lies of someone with a deck of cards and an inflated sense of self-importance.

"Have fun," Freed taunted, giving him a gentle push towards the tent.

All but trudging towards his destination, Laxus placed the money in the bucket outside and rolled his eyes at the overly mysterious sounding demand that he enter the tent. He walked in, and saw a heavily cushioned room with a low table, and a woman mainly covered by purple scarves sitting at it.

They weren't scared of stereotypes, it seemed.

"Hello, lost one," The woman greeted, still forcing a weird voice. "Take a seat, my child."

Laxus did as he was told, biting his tongue when he realised that he was probably older than the woman performing the reading. He was glad this wasn't a palm reading, having a stranger grope at his hands would be too weird.

"You wish to have your unlived days laid before you?" The woman asked.

"Sure," Laxus said without enthusiasm, not entirely wanting to play along.

"You don't believe in this stuff, do ya," The woman asked suddenly, her voice a lot more normal now. Laxus, momentarily shocked by the sudden change in atmosphere, took a second to reply.

"Not really," Laxus shrugged. "Made a deal I'd come here though."

"That's fair," The woman said, and started to remove the scarves from her face. She was certainly younger than Laxus. "You don't mind do you. This place is hot enough without the candles surrounding it and the scarves. You have no idea how sweaty it gets."

"No, that's fine," Laxus said, at a loss for words when the woman pulled a beer from behind one of the cushions and took a swig from it.

"Okay, so you don't believe in this stuff, so there's no reason to lay it on thick," She said after taking her drink. "But you did pay, and just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it's not true. So, you wanna do this without all the added on stuff that makes the experience better, get it over and done with?"

"I guess," Laxus frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening.

"Okay," The woman began, picking up her tarot deck and shuffling it like a poker player. "I'm gonna spread these you, you have to pick three. Usually I'd say there's spirit guardians guiding you, which there is but I doubt you'll care about that. Once you've picked them out, we'll turn them over and I'll explain what they mean. First individually, then as a whole."

Laxus nodded in understanding and watched as the woman laid out the cards in a smooth curve. With more care than was probably needed, he looked over the cards before picking three of them at random. Or maybe it wasn't random. Maybe it was a spirit guide.

He almost laughed at the thought.

Watching absently, Laxus saw the woman turn the left most card over, revealing an image of someone in odd clothing standing at the end of a cliff.

"The fool," The woman explained, and Laxus felt slightly offended by it. "Each card has a wide range of interpretations. In its most pure form, it can mean you'll make an ass out of yourself soon," Laxus glared at the woman for that. "But in a more spiritual sense, it speaks of a greater acceptance of the self. You will embrace the fool within you, becoming more of your real self and less burdened by your anxieties. You will find that you don't second guess your actions. You'll be as much a fool as you need to be."

Laxus almost scoffed, and tried to ignore the fact he had been considering just how much his interactions with Freed were devoid of his second-guessing nature. He didn't say anything as the woman turned the next card.

"The sun," She commented. "In its most literal sense, it means brightness is coming to your world. There will be light and growth and nurturing in your future, a new sense of happiness perhaps. But it also means the start of a new cycle. Rebirth if you will. It seems to be that you might be starting a new chapter in your life."

It was annoying, but Laxus found himself wondering if Freed would play a big part in this new chapter. He remained silent as the final card of his choice was flipped over.

"The world," The woman said, and she was smiling now. "This can mean a lot of things. Often it's further a signifier of growth and nature. But it also means that the world is literally open to you. New pathways, new experiences, a new life. That's all coming towards you, and coming soon."

"So, err," Laxus began, embarrassed that he was even entertaining the possibility of this being real. "What do they all mean together."

"I think something big's happening in your life, and pretty soon. It might have already happened. Something life changing. Something that'll open up a whole new world of possibilities, that restarts your life with something new, that allows you to be your true self in a way that you've never been before. Maybe it's an event, maybe it's a revelation or an epiphany. Maybe it's a person. But you're in for some change, and I think it's for the better."

Laxus mind forced him to think of the man waiting outside of the tent for him. The handsome stubborn man that had already had an affect on Laxus that nobody else had. The man who allowed him to have fun, and seemed to energise Laxus in a way he couldn't describe.

Maybe Freed was the change in his life.

He dismissed the thought instantly; this whole this was pointless, and wrong. He bid the woman a goodbye, and started to leave the tent. Even with his surety that fortune telling wasn't real, Laxus couldn't help but notice the similarities of what he'd been told.

Not could he help the smile that those similarities caused.

Jac & Jesse

Jac: [as you said he encouraged her to gatecrash, I figure it makes sense he'd check in on that after the posts, Amelia called JJ lol] Jesse: 👍? Jac: 🖕 Jesse: ☕? Jac: no I feel sick Jesse: [brings her a glass of water and tablets but like puts them on her bedside table and then leaves] Jac: you're just as bad Jesse: as bad as? Jac: her Jac: don't try be nice Jesse: 🖕 Jesse: Alright? Jac: 🙄 Jac: no that was so halfhearted Jesse: it weren't only you who had a late one Jac: then don't bother Jesse: nice try, dickhead Jac: ask mum and dad Jac: i'm not in a gossiping mood Jesse: the walls ain't that thick Jac: just your head Jac: gotcha Jesse: Must be a family thing you inherited as well as Jac: if I can blame all of you Jac: fine by me Jesse: crack on Jesse: I hope it makes you feel loads better Jac: your fake sympathy is only marginally better than your real but solid attempt Jesse: you didn't want tea, they go together Jac: hence I declined Jac: don't feel sorry for me, twat Jesse: I don't Jesse: Amelia on the other hand Jac: you can go commiserate with her then Jac: she needs some new gay friends Jesse: I don't fit the bill then and she don't wanna hear from me how shit her girlfriend is Jac: She's well aware, don't worry Jac: beat you to it Jesse: Yeah, the comments tell the story, like Jesse: and a 📷's worth loads of words Jac: it was meant to be blatant Jac: no 🍪 for working it out Jesse: just 🏆🥇 for you Jac: naturally Jac: why else would I go Jesse: 'Cause you miss her Jesse: you were mates and it was her birthday Jesse: Dunno, there's 2 💡s Jac: Ha Jac: you ask her how much love she's feeling now Jac: I wanted her to have a shit time and she did, mission accomplished Jesse: You're alright, tah, that's blatant an' all Jac: yeah, no need to act like you're that thick now you ain't in the dark Jesse: nah, the act's all yours Jesse: I'll leave it out Jac: yeah, I'm acting like a cunt, I'm a really, really nice person actually Jac: literally as bad as her Jesse: We're all wrong and you're right Jesse: 🏆🥇 Jac: no shit Jac: gotta suck Jesse: I'll live Jac: thrilled for you, Jess Jesse: 👍 Jesse: Good talk Jac: the fact you expected anything else is on you Jac: you go apologize to her, you'll feel better Jesse: It was her who fought your battles for you, nowt to do with me Jac: you told me to go Jesse: To make up with her, you twat Jac: and why did you think I'd ever do that? Jac: what kind of fucking fantasy land are you living in Jesse: I thought she might get through to you Jesse: that kinda fantasy land Jac: 😂 Jesse: it ain't much of a laugh but alright Jac: not to you Jesse: you ain't laughing either Jac: I can if you want Jac: rather I was crying but nah Jesse: Piss off, your vocal chords don't work any more Jac: So? Jac: that's got fuck all to do with missing Amelia, I'm so sorry Jesse: Never said it did Jac: you thought it did Jac: as fucking if Jesse: I thought she could help you, nowt else Jesse: giving her too much credit Jac: unlucky Jesse: 💔 Jac: I don't need any help Jac: and you should give the fuck up Jesse: I don't play 🎻 Jesse: you might as well shut up Jac: I already have, dipshit Jesse: Stop typing playground insults at me then Jac: Go away then Jac: you've achieved nothing, and you're not going to Jesse: You're a shit 👻 Jesse: next time throw something Jac: I've got what I needed from the situation Jesse: 👌 Jac: is Jude here or what Jesse: do you hear her? Jac: its the middle of the night Jac: morning Jesse: it's the afternoon near enough Jac: can I go to bed or not Jesse: she's at a mates Jac: thank god Jesse: might be back in a bit, like I said, it ain't as early as you think Jac: if I knock myself out she won't be able to speak to me Jesse: you won't be able to answer, she can still go on about whatever she likes Jac: I won't hear her, same difference Jesse: same as when you're awake, yeah Jac: no, unfortunately I can still hear her Jesse: Gutted Jac: no shit Jesse: Try 🎧 Jac: I don't like music Jesse: don't listen to any then Jesse: other media exists Jac: I don't like any of that either Jesse: 🙄 Jac: you'll survive Jesse: Nobody likes the news, stick it on to drown her out and get over it Jac: I have no interest in feeling better Jac: at least she's good for that Jesse: Bit rude Jac: it's a compliment Jac: she has fuck all else use Jesse: Bollocks is it Jesse: you've got less use, at least she walks the 🐕🐕🐕 Jac: I clearly don't care about being of any use to any of you Jac: it's all about what you can do for me, which is very little but make my crippling depression much worse Jesse: achieved that then ✔ Jac: hooray Jesse: 🥳 Jac: you missed it Jesse: had one I was actually invited to go to Jac: wow, that's so impressive Jac: would you like me to pretend I'm jealous? Jesse: pretend what you like Jac: so generous Jesse: pat on the back'll be in the post Jac: I got better by myself with her girlfriend, tah Jesse: I can't pretend there's owt impressive about that, soz Jesse: get your 🏆🥇 off her if you're bothered Jac: as if I did it for the brag Jesse: she will have done Jac: give a fuck what she does or doesn't Jesse: I got that Jac: so what's your fucking point Jesse: you either wanna talk or you don't Jesse: I give a fuck about Valentina Jesse: I know exactly what she's like Jac: yeah, I don't fucking fancy her, it's not me you need or needed to tell Jac: she's clearly a slag Jesse: I don't need to tell Amelia either Jesse: everyone knows she collects queers Jesse: she's been trying to be mates with me for years Jac: not now Jac: too late Jesse: Time was already running out for them, no need Jesse: been obvious from day 1 Jac: yeah and I'm a shit friend Jesse: she ain't mine Jac: she's not mine Jesse: not now Jac: not for ages Jac: if ever Jac: so you're just a cunt for no reason Jesse: how am I? Jac: you knew and you didn't say shit Jac: even though you've got no reason to fuck with her life Jac: so, you're a cunt Jesse: she knew and she'd have still called it bollocks if I said anything Jesse: it's her life Jac: yeah, sure Jesse: yeah, she had her reasons, must've done Jac: mhmm, tell yourself that Jesse: you're the only person she's ever properly listened to, but go on and tell yourself it's my fault Jac: I know what I did, tah Jesse: and the only head you're doing in with going on about it is yours Jac: you think I care? Jesse: you do, it ain't about what I think Jac: I really don't Jac: it's what she was owed, simple as Jesse: she had something you cared enough about to need to fuck with Jesse: if you didn't give a fuck you wouldn't bother about what she was or wasn't owed Jesse: nowt would matter like you keep telling yourself it don't Jac: all I care about is everything being as shit as possible Jac: and pushing you all far away Jac: I've never said that wasn't the case but yeah, go off with your pseudo-psych Jesse: and all you did was push her onto the end of a phone with mum and dad, well done Jesse: closer that she was before, that Jac: yeah and? Jac: they can chat all they fucking please I don't have to join in Jesse: and don't come to me chuffed to bits with yourself when you've got no reason to be Jesse: there's the and Jac: awh Jac: you got woke up Jac: weren't me shouting Jesse: Never is Jac: well observed Jesse: I ain't in enough of a mard about the wake up call for you to get your only joy out of it, soz like Jac: whatever shall I do Jac: 💔 Jesse: Kettle's always on round here Jac: Hilarious Jesse: you'll have to get it yourself Jesse: doubly 💔 I know Jac: I don't like tea Jac: and I'm certainly not making any of you a cup Jesse: I ain't asking for one, I've got work Jac: how fun Jesse: 👋 Jac: enjoy Jesse: 🤞 Jac: try not to wake me when you get back Jesse: Got nothing to shout about Jac: gutted Jesse: won't be you getting the 🎻s out Jac: yeah, you can't play it Jesse: and I'm alright for learning any more instruments at the minute Jac: lazy Jesse: it's loud enough around here Jac: take that up with the rest Jac: they don't take pointed silence as a fucking hint Jesse: worked that out by myself, tah Jesse: have lived here long as you Jac: not quite Jesse: good as Jac: those 10 months without you were the best of my life Jesse: keep them close to your 🖤 Jesse: nowt I can do about it Jac: can't retroactively give dad a vasectomy Jesse: 💔 Jac: so sad Jesse: I got that Jac: good Jac: it's not all for nothing Jesse: 👍 Jac: can't we swap rooms Jesse: if you want Jac: really? Jac: her shit is everywhere Jesse: Don't matter Jac: i'm going sleep in your bed then Jesse: yours Jesse: that's what a swap is Jac: yes but i'm not moving the beds right now Jesse: Alright Jac: tell everyone you said its fine Jesse: weren't gonna keep it a secret Jac: Jameson and Jude will be pissed off Jesse: and? Jac: I don't wanna be rudely awoken Jac: we need a bigger house Jesse: my job don't pay that well Jac: two more years Jesse: ✔ Jac: that was an affirmation for me, not you Jesse: say it in your head then Jac: you either want me to talk or not dickhead Jesse: whinging weren't part of the deal, dickhead Jac: that's the only way you talk Jac: or singing, as you call it Jesse: SO funny, you Jac: just honest Jesse: honestly, go to bed Jac: I can't Jesse: ? Jac: too much on my mind Jesse: Yeah Jac: and I'm pretty wired Jac: I'm gonna go study Jesse: I'm out the door but you can come with Jesse: study there Jac: people will think I work there Jac: then you'll get terrible reviews Jesse: not if you stay in the back Jesse: it's well quiet there too Jac: does Ben come in lots still? Jac: Ben from Science, the one you sit next to Jesse: What's lots? Jesse: he comes in Jac: will he come in today? Jesse: I can text him Jac: that's lame Jac: I'll take a selfie Jac: he'll show Jesse: 👌 Jac: right, I'll be there later Jac: I need to re-do my makeup Jesse: in a bit then Jac: should I shower Jesse: Probably Jac: he's not worth it Jac: more probably messy is his type Jesse: so there's your answer Jac: fuck it Jac: keep the smudged mascara Jesse: 🥇💡? Jac: if not Ben it'll work on the other guys there Jesse: Steady on Jac: what? Jesse: You know what Jac: no Jesse: Yeah you do Jac: I can do what I want Jesse: you don't want this Jac: yes I literally do Jesse: Fuck's sake Jac: shut up Jesse: You can not talk to Ben or whoever Jesse: you can't shut me up Jac: don't be a baby about it Jesse: Don't do it Jac: are you always this much of a downer, jesus Jesse: I'll chuck you out Jac: then I'll just go somewhere else and hook up with someone else Jesse: You're such a prick Jac: its literally none of your business so Jesse: you made it my business when you told me about it Jac: whatever Jac: I'm gonna hit up someone else Jesse: Don't whatever me or this Jac: you can't do anything Jesse: You're still there and I ain't far off, I'll come back Jac: oh really Jac: you're gonna shut me in my room on the grounds of hoeing are you Jesse: If you make me Jac: you're funny Jesse: I don't give a fuck, Jac, alright? Jesse: Stop Jac: No Jesse: stop Jac: Why? Jesse: just stop Jac: No Jac: this is what I need to do Jesse: Bollocks Jesse: you need to stop Jac: nope Jac: its the last step of the plan Jesse: [he's coming back for this showdown, soz Pete because he blatantly works at your record store cafe moment] Jac: [whos bed you in that's a fun game of hide and seek] Jesse: [he's a woman don't test him, also soz Jameson and Cammie if you're here] Jac: [ah the drama, gonna have to fight your brother] Jesse: [such fun] Jac: [I hope JJ are there to break this up it must be the weekend so fingers crossed lmao] Jesse: [one of them should get hurt accidentally before they do because what a mood and also they'd be fuming] Jac: [who would you rather] Jesse: [I don't mind either way, could make a case for either so] Jac: [probably him for the angst and she's not in the mindset to be remotely careful like we're just trying to get out so if he tries to stop us we're going in] Jesse: [he is a soft boy like his father so that makes sense, JJ gonna be like wtf because they are the closest of these siblings have they ever even fought before probably not] Jac: [oh the drama, get the gal in therapy but she won't lol] Jesse: [storm off to work boy like you're remotely in the right mindset to be there] Jac: [can't even tracy apologize Jesse: [Jude will be gutted she missed this drama] Jac: [aren't we all]

(If you're still doing plance drabbles) I'm in band, and a dude asked for my number after I played We Are Number One on the trumpet. (He tried making it super low-key about it, though. Like, "yep,, i like to keep in touch with talented musicians. uhuh, totally").

That is so freaking cute! Sorry this took me so long to get to. After the hype of S3, I was going crazy but now I’m ready to hunker down for this fic.

So I’m gonna adapt it just a bit because I was in marching band back in high school and I LOVE marching band AU’s, and I’ve been meaning to come up with some good Plance marching band shenanigans (although in this one I guess Lance isn’t in band..) sooooo here we go!

Pidge closes her eyes as the familiar taste of wood settles on her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she channels her focused exhale into a standard B flat. The note wavers before leveling out into a smooth line and as Pidge continues to hold it out, she creaks open an eye to look down at her tuner.

All set to go.

Without further ado, she plunges into her scales — all seven of them, then their minor counterparts, then the chromatic — warming up her fingers and embouchure before sinking into her audition piece. She has 20 minutes before it’s her turn, giving her ample time to sit in her favorite acoustic spot behind the band room and practice. As much as their band director has promised not to prioritize seniority over skill, she suspects that being a sophomore still puts her at a disadvantage for the place of first chair. The only other oboe player this year is a senior so unless she really knocks her audition out of the ballpark, she’s doubtful the director would follow through with his word.

Once she finishes her scales, she stuffs her tuner back in her pocket, licks her lips, and dives right into her piece. By now, it’s memorized; she’s practiced it so often she can twiddle her fingers to it in her sleep. She feels a sense of triumph for every time she manages not to squeak on the notes that often give her trouble and for every difficult lick she nails down.

It’s exhilarating. It’s not everyday she can run through the entire piece without a single negative thing happening. The fact that everything is lining up just before an audition bodes well and Pidge can feel her confidence blossoming.

She holds herself out until the end of her last note, and with a final flourish, finishes strong. Smiling, Pidge sits in silence, fully intending to relish in the thrill of a great performance because yes! she got through the entire piece without any glaring issues when —

“Damn, that was sick!”

The loud voice jolts her out of her post-performance zen. Her eyes snap open at once, feeling disgruntled as the magic trickles out of this moment, and she turns her head to spot the culprit.

An annoying tall, lanky guy in a green cargo jacket stands right outside of the band room’s fences with a huge grin on his face.

“Do you mind?” she asks. “I’m kind of in the middle of practice.”

“If this is just your practice, then I can’t even imagine how good you are when you’re on form,” he says.

Pidge refuses to allow such flighty compliments to affect her. Instead, she purses her lips in a scowl and turns her head away from the guy.

“I’m always on form,” she says. “That’s what it means to be a musician.”

The tall guy lets out a long whistle. “That was deep.”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “I have an audition in like 7 minutes so keep it moving, buddy. Don’t you have class?”

But the guy doesn’t leave. Just when Pidge thinks this interaction couldn’t get any worse, he leans his elbow against the fence with a sly smile on his face.

“The name’s Lance,” he says, his voice suddenly dipping into a deeper drawl. “Wanna exchange notes? You hit some great ones just now and I’d love to return the favor.”

Pidge groans and hides her face in her palm.

“I meant exchanging numbers, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of the vast myriad of musical puns, thank you very much,” she drones. Please leave, please leave, please leave—

“Well…” and as his voice trails off, Pidge hears some of his confidence fade with it. “It’s no big deal — I just thought, talented musician like you, I though it’d be cool to keep in touch, that’s all.”

She looks up to see him give her a half-hearted shrug. She hates to admit it, but something about this guy’s sudden vulnerable side behind the previous gusto makes her annoyance ebb, just a little bit.

She checks her watch. She’s got five minutes left and was really hoping to continue practicing for the remainder of the time. With a sigh, she takes out her phone from her pocket and turns on her Airdrop. Sure enough, “Blue McQueen” shows up under “nearby.” She looks back up at Lance, trying to fit his personality to the nickname. Finally deciding that he indeed seemed like the type of person that would name his own phone something that ridiculous, she drops the number in.

“Just go back to class, Lance,” she says as she hears his phone buzz in his pocket.

Lance gives a small start and reaches into his pocket for his phone. It takes him a few seconds but Pidge can see the look of dawning comprehension as he stares at the lockscreen before his face completely lights up and his lips curve up into a wide grin.

“Right then,” he says, stowing his phone back in his pocket. “Guess I’ll see you around, Pidge.”

And with that, he winks at her and sidles off back to class.

Why was he angry? Why was he pushing him? And why was he making it about himself? About his feelings? Michael had come back, hadn't he? Why was that not enough? Lucifer had asked for a story to tell dad, Michael had given him one and now Lucifer was pissed? Because he didn't get the answers the way he wanted them? It wasn't as if Michael had asked for this to happen, it wasn't as if he was thrilled to be outed by a bunch of idiots at school and then his brother, instead of talking to him simply made accusations, demanding for Michael to explain everything right there are there, to have something to tell their dad. As if any of that was easy, as if it wasn't terrifying, as if Michael hadn't dealt with complicated feelings about who he was and what it all meant, as if this was some simple secret.

But what could Lucifer know. He didn't know what it was like to feel the pressure of having to be Mr. Perfect. He didn't understand what it was like to be terrified of his feelings, of anyone ever finding out about his crush because then everything would be over. He had no idea and instead of asking, instead of trying to understand, he was yelling at Michael, he was making him seem insane when he was just scared. The one thing that was for Michael to say, to express, to figure out had been ripped from his hands by some school idiots and ripped to pieces. It was his thing to explain, whenever he wanted and however he wanted and to whoever he wanted. Lucifer didn't get to be mad because Michael hadn't figured it all out.

"You are such an asshole!" Michael snapped, hands curled up into fists. It was Michael who was looking down to the edge of a cliff and Lucifer was trying to what? Push him? Because he needed to know. He needed answers. He needed to know about Michael's life and choices and secrets. "This is not about you! None of it is about you, as much as you want to make it so" He yelled. He was gonna go back home and deal with this, even if he didn't want to, even if he was not ready, because Lucifer wanted to, because Lucifer was sad. "And this is not about being tough or mature or wanting to protect you! I am scared, Lucifer and it's about me! For once it's about just me! But you are too busy being a selfish asshole to realize that I am terrified and this could destroy my fucking life!" Michael's emotions were going through a roller coaster and he couldn't go back home to prepare dinner and do laundry and pretend everything was fine. He couldn't wait for dad and do his homework and get the boys ready for bed by eight. "You go back home. You make dinner, you keep the house together, big brother" He said the last two words in a mocking tone. "I'm leaving."

Before Lucifer could say anything, Michael turned around and left, without shoes, without his phone, without making sure everyone was okay at home.

When Michael raised his voice made Lucifer turn around, eyebrows raising in surprise and wouldn't deny that his heart gave a little jump, like a flinch.

How was he doing it about himself? He wanted to talk and fucking Michael just left! Lucifer's anger grew more and his frustration out of not understanding quite what was happening, and the fear of not knowing what was going to happen, the not knowing what any of this meant.

His heart dropped to his stomach when Michael talked in singular and almost in slowmotion he saw him turn around to get further from him. Lucifer shouted a NO! with an arm reaching out for him but not catching him.

But why would he stop Michael? Besides the fact that it was late and where would he go?

Michael is smart...- He tried to repeat himself as he took one step back, and another one.

Was he really going to not go after him?

The boy clenched his jaw and looked down. "FUCK!" He cursed and turned aroudn to head back home.

There were questions from their siblings, where was Michael? What had happened? What was the yelling about?

Only the other two older ones could get an idea as accurate as just some fight about school stuff, but nothing more.

There were crossed glances between them and symphatetic looks for everyone. The younger ones confused and a bit nervous about the whole aura tho not understanding any of the reasons Lucifer tried to tell them. Michael needed some time for what?

The clock hit nine o'clock and the front door opened. The younger kids had fallen asleep in one single room as Raphael had read them to sleep and him and Gabriel were now at Gabriel's room, lights off just in case. The house was quiet, dirty cereal dishes in the sink and homework somewhat done.

Adonai's steps echoed through the silence as he left his coat and keys in his office.

"Michael?" He looked into the dinning room and then headed to the living room. "Michael?"

"He's at a friend's." Lucifer replied, sitting on the large sofa and scrolling through his phone.

"He didn't say anything."

"His friend needed help with something. I told him I would let you know."

Adonai frowned, unbuttoning the fists of his shirt and rolling it up neatly. "Since when you decide what happens? He knows he has to let me know where he is or where any of you are. What's up with that friend? Do we have to pick him up later?"

"It was an emergency dad." He pressed his lips together and turned to look up at his father, not answering any of the questions left.

"Look what you did to your face." He grabbed Lucifer's jaw tightly to force his head up so he could look better at the bruise. "What the fuck where you thinking Luce? Huh? That I had a free day today? That my day needed a bit of spice? I'm in the middle of a meeting and your damned school calls me for what? HUH?! For you acting stupid? Like some animal?!" He pushes his face and Lucifer simply let's it happen, his body falling back against the cushions of the sofa.

"Wasn't I supposed to defend my honor father? I thought you'd be happy that I know how to use my fists. I got it from you."

Adonai huffed and smacked Lucifer's face with the back of his hand. "You don't get to be a little shit today. You're on the red zone. That face is going to be in everyone's mouth and for what Lucifer?!"

He bit his lower lip, trying to keep his breathing steady. "Your dinner is in the microwave."

Adonai losened his tie and took out his phone to check if he had any message from Michael. "Tell me if we have to pick Michael up later at his friend's."

And he headed upstairs.