#please note his fucking old man 'OOF!' at the beginning
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@theriddletrades' master.
#*mine#sweeney todd#josh groban#annaleigh ashford#mrs lovett#broadway#a little priest#they are soooooooo sillygoofy they killed like 100 people#i want to be their third so bad i look like an IDIOT#please note his fucking old man 'OOF!' at the beginning#that poor man almost went down to the floor#watch this blog turn solely into a sweeney blog. i may have a fucking issue#her fucking EVIL ASS LOOK WHEN SHE COMES UP WITH THE PUN IN HER HEAD#YOU CAN /SEE/ IT#NELLIEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE YOUUUUU#SHE'S SO GOOFY#i'm gonna touch the buttttttt
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Shalnark is kidnapped and interviewed by a man with a powerful hatsu that prevents his interviewee from lying. TW for violence. I play the voice of Shalnark, and my husband is the voice of the interviewer
Transcript and notes under cut.
Client: Marie Butcher
Interviewee: Shalnark Ryuseih/Videar
Interviewer: [REDACTED]
Date of Interview: 09.23.98
Location: [REDACTED]
List of Acronyms: S=Shalnark Ryuseig, IN=Interviewer
-
[Begin Transcript -00:00:03]
S: Oof. Hehe, where am I?
IN: Somewhere where no one will find you.
S: Ahahahaha. You must be pretty slick to pull one over on me
IN: Yeah well, that’s what they pay me for.
S: Gotcha, gotcha. Well, who’s paying you?
IN: Oh, someone by the name of Marie Butcher, though you probably know her better as, um, Margit, and from this point on, I’ll be asking all the questions. Now what is two plus two.
S: Heh, four?
IN: Thank you. And what color is the sky?
S: Uh, blue?
IN: Thank you. And what is your name?
S: Shalnark Ryuseih
IN: Thanks. And now what’s your real name?
S: [WINCE] Videar
[00:00:55]
S: Hehe, what the fuck have you done to me?
IN: Oh, this is my hatsu. Once someone lies to me, they can’t lie again. Or did you mean the drugging and the kidnapping?
S: Ahahahaha, that’s good. You’re really funny.
IN: Thanks. I’m been told that before. Alright, how old were you when you left Meteor City?
S: I think I was about nineteen. Ehehe, you’re making a dangerous mistake.
IN: Heh, focus on the questions please. How old were you when you left your home?
S: I was eight. Ehehe. So it seems the intention behind the question matters. That’s interesting.
IN: How many siblings do you have?
S: Five. Stop it.
IN: ‘Fraid I can’t do that. Now, your parents faked your death. What were the true circumstances around your disappearance.
S: When I was eight years old my parents took me to a gambling hall where they had a debt and they sold me.
IN: What did they do to you at the gambling halls?
S: Ahahaha, what did they do to me? They didn’t do anything to me. I bussed tables. I learned to count cards. Stuff like that. It was a better life than the factories for sure.
IN: So would you say, being in the gambling halls, you didn’t miss your home?
S: You know, these are some really subjective questions. Some really personal-Of course I did, of course I missed my fucking home.
IN: And did you miss your siblings?
S: Yes. You are going to regret this.
IN: I’m sure I will. What would you do if you were reunited with your siblings?
S: Ahaha, I’d kill them.
IN: Even…oh, what was it? Arvid
S: Yeah. Even the baby. Even Margit, who paid for you. You know what, I would even kill Ashild. I’m sure Margit would get a kick out of that.*
IN: Ashild is dead.**
[00:02:56]
IN: Are you a member of the Phantom Troupe.
S: Ehehe, I am.
IN: And do you enjoy being a member?
S: Yes. I have friends. I have a…boyfriend that loves me, and a job that never gets boring, and I’m about to kill you.
[THE SOUND OF A CHAIR SCRAPING ON THE FLOOR]
IN: What are you doing?
[THE SOUND OF A CHAIR HITTING THE GROUND]
IN: How did you get untied?
[THE SOUND OF BONES BREAKING]***
IN: That- That was your jaw! Wait, no, stop!
[END OF INTERVIEW]
-
*Ashild was the sibling that Shalnark was closest to before he left.
**Ashild died in a factory incident not long after Shalnark was sold.
***Shalnark broke his jaw, fearing that the interviewer’s hatsu would remain even once he was reunited with the Phantom Troupe.
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Two Hearts Make a Whole
Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.
Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.
Word Count: 2,001
Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.
Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.
Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.
“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"
“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”
You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”
“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”
Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”
With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”
“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”
“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”
Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”
“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”
“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”
Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.
“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”
Steve’s blush extends down his neck.
You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.
“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.
“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”
Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”
“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“
“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).
“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”
Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.
You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”
“Language!”
Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”
Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”
Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”
A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”
His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”
“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.
“And that,” Bucky agrees.
Steve frowns.
You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)
Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“
“Me,” Bucky says gently.
Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.
But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.
“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”
“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”
Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”
“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”
“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.
Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”
Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”
Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly. “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.
Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.
“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”
Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.
You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...
Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”
The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.
“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”
“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”
And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.
At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.
Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”
He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.
When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.
“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”
Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.
Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.
The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.
Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”
“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”
Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”
And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.
---
A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.
#writer wednesday#steve x bucky#stucky#steve rogers fic#pride#steve rogers fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#stucky fanfic#stucky fanfiction#love is love#happy pride#steve rogers x bucky barnes#platonic reader#my writing
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AHSDHFHHJKKHD
THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. WAS SO FUCKING GOOD.
[spoilers below if you haven’t seen it and you want to]
Here are some of my (not in any particular order) bullet points. This is gonna be long as hell because, you know, brain dumps amiright
First off, Anya Taylor-Joy’s acting. Is just incredible. In particular moments, you can tell what she’s thinking with a simple hand gesture or with the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. She develops Beth’s signature facial expressions and movements throughout the show, and you just feel like you know her. And during her chess matches, sometimes it feels like she’s staring into your soul. Especially when she gives that badass chin-on-the-hands look and she knows she’s going to win. Powerful energy.
Secondly, I fucking knew I recognized Harry Beltik from somewhere else but my mom didn’t BELIEVE me and then I looked up the actor and he’s DUDLEY DURSLEY, I WAS RIGHT MOTHER, I WAS RIGHT
I love love love how they didn’t make, like, a major romantic plotline. Beth doesn’t end up with a partner - she ends with a bunch of super supportive friends that have her back by the time she gets to Moscow, and like, she has a crush on Townes but they end up being just like super good and healthy friends and I love it?? So much?? Thank you producers
Townes. Just, in general. I really like his character, he’s super nice and his voice is oddly soothing
BORGOV. I LOVE BORGOV. HE IS SO GODDAMN RESPECTFUL. Like, he seemed like a very cold character at first - well-mannered and extremely professional, yes, but rather cold. But when she wins in Moscow? “It is your game. Take it.” I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND HE HUGS HER AND STARTS CLAPPING AND THE AMOUNT OF RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION IN THAT SCENE IS INCREDIBLE. And you don’t see any of that in Borgov’s face when he’s playing. His facial expressions do not change at all. But then his face when she wins!! He’s HAPPY! He’s like, goddamn, I’ve spent my whole life mastering chess, it’s about time somebody fucking beat me! I know I’m repeating myself but just his RESPECT I absolutely adore it
And Beth’s officer-watcher-person in Moscow was all like “ahhh be wary of the Russians! communism!!” but they absolutely did not make this yet another evil Russian show, like please that trope works for plots but it’s about time somebody did something different - they showed the US government as suspicious of the Soviets but then they showed the solidarity between the chess players that Benny talked about earlier (”The Russians work together, Americans work alone” or something like that), and then they showed the kind and excitable people on the streets, and the amount of support they would have had no matter WHO won that goddamn match. The old man she plays at the end. Everyone is a community.
Continuing that - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the old man with the very puffy white hair, but I loved him too. He sees Beth as the rising star she is, and he respects her. He admires her. The dynamic there is absolutely immaculate, contrary to the dynamic between Beth and the man she beats earlier, the one who walks off and doesn’t even talk to her. We don’t like that man - we like the ones who admit defeat and respect Beth!! I love them!! They are extremely professional, and they show the warm-heartedness that often doesn’t show with all of the cold stares and glares that pass between players during matches.
Joline. I’m so glad she came back. I love her. She’s extremely independent but she comes back for Beth because Beth needs her but she’s also like “I’m not your savior! Get your shit together!” which is fucking awesome. And the fact that the two of them interacted like the best of friends even after years of separation was really sweet to me.
I nearly cried when Beth went back into the school. (I say ‘nearly’ because there were other people in the room and naturally I can’t do that in front of other people. If I was utterly alone, maybe on my own planet, I would have.) Because of all of it. Because of her trauma, because that’s where all the shit began... and the music during that scene. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially when the melody began switching to cello. And then Beth saw all the pictures and newspaper clips that Mr. Shaibel had saved, because he cared about her so much, because he started it all - he’s the reason she’s going to national tournaments, to Paris, to Moscow. And in that scene, we know he’s too old to be alive anymore, and she does too. The whole school scene in general just feels so ghostly and ethereal.
I love Borgov, did I say that already? I just... strive to exude his energy. I want to be good at things but I want to hold deep, genuine respect and admiration for others who are also good at the thing, because sometimes I just have the biggest fucking ego and I can get carried away. ‘Borgov, Borgov, Borgov.’ A mantra. He wins respectfully and he loses respectfully.
BETH’S MOTHER (the second one) JUST FUCKING DIED OUT OF NOWHERE?? AND I WAS SO SHOCKED? Which is really an accurate reflection of reality because death often comes out of nowhere, but DAMN I was not expecting that shit
And the fact that the mother just,,,, let her chug a beer,,,, oof
THE ADDICTION. BETH’S DOWNWARD SPIRAL. IT MADE ME FEEL SO HORRIBLE BUT IT FELT SO REAL. Everything about her progression through addiction was just... I can’t find an adjective. But when she just fucking inhaled that bucket of pills as a kid and then collapsed. When that addiction lasted into her adulthood - it’s really impactful and horrible and just so real. She needed proper care throughout this entire goddamn show and she never got medical care, she just got supportive friends - which, btw, that’s one thing that kind of threw me off. Like, she didn’t have withdrawal in Moscow, she went from chugging like four bottles of wine a day to... not drinking at all?? Without withdrawal symptoms?? And I’m proud of her for throwing away those pills but honestly it felt really fast, idk
GIVING CHILDREN TRANQUILIZERS WAS AN ACTUAL THING THAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT PREVIOUSLY KNOW THIS. BUT LEGITIMATELY, IT HAPPENED. HOLY SHIT.
HARRY BELTIK. He was like, awkwardly in love with Beth and that shit didn’t work out but even afterwards he FUCKING CARED. He’d seen his father drink himself to death and he knew that would happen to Beth and he was scared. So he came back, he tried to help her, and at that point (when she had that fucking scary eye makeup, yeah that was rock bottom) she didn’t care much about the outside world anymore. She was angry, and she was closing herself in. It made my stomach clench in physical pain. Which is a good thing. But also not.
Harry Beltik in general just being so supportive and wanting to help her though, like yeah it was very awkward, but they were vibing
AND BENNY WATTS IS FUCKING GREAT. THAT WHOLE COWBOY LOOK, COWBOY CHESS PLAYER, NOW THAT’S AN AESTHETIC. He was concerned for Beth too. He wanted to help her. He wanted to create that American solidarity that he knew the Soviet competitors had, and ultimately he did when he and everyone else called her in Moscow. Benny is... chaotic good? Neutral? He is quite an interesting character, and Beth’s persistent social awkwardness fades away with him because he knows how to interact with her. He’s a dedicated and smart narcissist, and I’m here for it.
The fact that they made me love and hate Cleo at the same time, and also question Beth’s sexuality when she first met Cleo. Like, she’s from Paris. She considers ‘tomorrow night’ to be a very long time away. I love her mysteriousness. But also, she was the catalyst for Beth’s downward drinking spiral before the match in Paris, so like... I like Cleo’s personality, but not her choices in those previous moments.
The music. Did I mention the music? The soundtrack. The orchestrals. That one song that the mother plays on piano that I hear all the time and I still don’t actually know what it is PLEASE HELP. The music is melancholy in the right moments, upbeat in the right moments, intense and suspenseful in the right moments - and also absent in the right moments. There’s tacet. There’s silence. And it’s always been my firm belief that silence can hold just as much impact as sound.
Just an interesting note, my mom watched the whole show before me and then re-watched it with me, and when Mr. Shaibel showed up she quickly reassured me that he wasn’t a child molester, because quote “it may be a creepy basement but he’s just really nice” so... I was reassured
I love Mr. Shaibel, and Beth just kept sticking up for him in front of the press and,,, yeah
I hated that bitch from the high school, what was her name?... The one who showed up in the store with a child? It makes me think about the fact that so many kids are just jerks in high school simply because they can be... and occasionally their fuckery lasts into adulthood but oftentimes it doesn’t. You don’t have to be a jerk when you’re an adult, and you don’t have to be a jerk in high school! People remember, people always remember! So, to the bitch from the high school: fuck you for making Beth feel like an outsider and then trying to reverse gears and accept her, cuz Beth isn’t falling for that shit.
The twins, Matt and Mike. They’re so doubtful of Beth in the beginning but then bam, she’s competing nationally, and I adore how the three of them become friends. All those men playing chess in Kentucky in the beginning seem so condescending, but ultimately they show respect because Beth absolutely fucking deserves it.
I enjoy the fact that we never *really* know Beth’s age. It’s just like... she’s 9, she’s 15, she’s 17, she’s... twenty something? Who the hell knows? As many characters say, when it comes to skill level, age ultimately isn’t an important factor. This young woman beats the oldest man with the bushiest white hair in Moscow and age. Does not. Matter.
The Jesus people lmaooooo when Beth said “because it’s fucking nonsense” I just. Mad respect ma’am, don’t take their money, go be a communist and “sPrEaD tHe aThEiSt AgEnDa”
Wow I really just... wrote all that didn’t I damn wish I could write essays this fast at reasonable hours of the day
Beth’s relationship with her foster mother is so fucking sweet until she fucking dies
And fuck Beth’s legal father. He is an asshole. That is all.
The mother deserved Manuel, she deserved that sketchy Mexican salesman goddammit
As my final bullet point: This has made me want to play chess. This has made me want to get good at chess. You know that thing where you like, download the personality of the coolest character for like a day after you watch something... I don’t do that anymore (maybe), but I want to download those mad chess skills. This has made chess seem so cool. I want to wear a fancy suit and compete with people. I just have to, you know, actually develop some strategy and stop losing brutally against people online. I wAnT tO pLaY cHesS dO yOu HeAr mE
I’m going to stop now, but I just,,, peeps, I love this show. I’m absolutely going to require a re-watch in the future. I just love it. The characters and their development, their relationships with each other, the progression of time and of Beth’s maturity... it is simply incredible. This concludes my brain dump.
#ah. just ah.#the queen's gambit#beth harmon#elizabeth harmon#townes#harry beltik#mr. shaibel#vasily borgov#chess#netflix#rant#random#thoughts#brain dump#joline#tw drugs#tw drinking#tw alcohol#tw trauma#ahdsfgsdjfgsjgjdgjhdsgfjsdgjfds#anya taylor joy#benny watts
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Random Shigaraki Headcanons
This boi. This grubby boi. I love him so much but at the same time he would probably literally dust me so... (oof this one kinda dragged on and on... lol)
Literally has no idea about real-life relationship dynamics outside of what he’s observed in his own parents, in Sensei, and in Kurogiri. All he thinks in the beginning is that people who claim to love you will stand by and let you be hurt, that villains took care of him better than any damn hero, and that he can only truly rely on himself. (And Sensei.)
It takes a loooooooong time of interacting with other people to break himself out of this mindset, and even then, sometimes it comes creeping back if bad things happen.
Getting into canon territory with this one, but really, really, reeeeeeeeally hates heroes because they didn’t even bother to help him when he was going through a whole mental breakdown. Literally one of the only reasons he hates them so much. I know this is pretty much canon, but I doubt he would ever grasp Stain’s ideology of ‘maybe some are good’ because in his eyes, not even the underground pro heroes even bothered to see if he was okay. Remember the scene from the manga with the old lady when he was a child? Yeah. There were bound to be heroes he bumped into, even off-duty ones, and nobody even gave him another glance.
Has extremely bad abandonment issues. If he likes you, he’s gonna want to keep you because he didn’t really have anything nice to call his own while growing up, and Sensei kept him fairly isolated so he literally tolerates nobody else other than him and Kurogiri at first. Reacts horribly when his friends want to break off the friendship. Goes through a whole depressive episode for a while, his old insecurities pop back up, and he really thinks he’s worse than trash and not worth anyone’s time or attention for a while. Prime time for Sensei to further twist his mind.
On that same note, if you’re dating, for the love of everything still good in this world do not break his heart. He will never forgive you. Literally will go to the grave before he forgives you for doing what you did (whether it be cheating on him or completely dropping him like a hot potato). Although this might also extend to little issues that make him feel like you don’t love him enough, he’ll forgive you if you show him plenty of attention and apologize for whatever he was upset over. If you cannot remain patient through his toxic mindsets, it’s best not to get into a relationship in the first place with him if you want to still remain friends afterward, because breaking it off means instant heartbreak.
Anyway! Back to happier, funnier hcs!!
The whole embodiment of the “Wears black in summer because I look good and am willing to suffer” vine. Will not give up his comfy black shirt and sweats for anything because yes, he does look good in black, and yes, he is willing to suffer. He’ll switch to a v-neck tee though. Even he’s not that masochistic.
Really prone to dry skin. I know that’s canon, but just... this poor man can’t keep moisturized to save his own life. Constantly has to apply a special moisturizer that’s specifically made for ultra-sensitive skin and has no scents whatsoever.
Will gripe about having to spend so much money on ointment and moisturizer for both him and Dabi. It’s one of the very few things they bond over, other than having a shitty father and pushover family... and their hatred of All Might.
Shigaraki 100% would be Dabi’s alibi if he actually managed to kill Endeavor. When it comes to the shitty dad club, he’s a fuckin’ ride-or-die.
Kinda sensitive over the fact that both he and Midoriya have the same sort of red shoes, but he loves his pair too much to throw them out. Purposefully aims for Midoriya’s shoes every single time they meet each other on the off chance that they get ruined enough for him to get different shoes, unknowing that he literally can’t just... get differently-colored shoes due to him being originally Quirkless (yes, The Shoes™ theory strikes again)
Literally never forgets a single thing about people he cares about. He’s the type of person who will remember every single thing you tell him about yourself, and especially birthdays. While he doesn’t exactly show his affection very loudly, he would be the type of person who tell you “happy birthday” on the day of as soon as he first sees you, and would treat you a little nicer all day that day.
This boy just has the biggest, scarred heart for his ‘good crowd’. I cannot stress enough just how much like Midoriya he could’ve turned out if he hadn’t been abandoned by society. This mf would give the green bean a run for his motherfuckin money.
“I really just hate the world and everything in it... except for you, maybe I could make an exception for you because you’re nice to me and I appreciate your company too much”
Even though I hc quite a few League members to be like cats when it comes to affection, Shigaraki’s spirit animal is a cat. Likes to lounge about in off-moments, slow to affection and very quick to remember exactly how people treat him, yet if he likes you he shows affection quietly enough that it’s not obvious at first. Like “oh, you’re in the same room as me. It’s not like I missed you or anything, me sitting right next to you at the bar when it’s totally empty means nothing. The fact that I’m looking right at you when you’re talking doesn’t mean I like you.”
LOVES HUGS. If you hug him and he likes you, you’ve probably made his whole day. Depending on how things are going, probably his whole fucking week. Just please hug him, he needs positive affection so bad
Major tsun-tsun. The most tsun-tsun. Grumpy until you get to know him, and if he likes you he’ll show you in little ways: listening to your ideas more, letting you stay closer for longer, maybe getting you something like food.
AFRAID OF TOUCH. I REPEAT, AFRAID OF TOUCH. Not from anyone he likes, of course; this baby is so touch-starved that he deserves a thousand hugs. But if he likes you, he will not initiate physical affection because he’s so afraid of accidentally dusting you. The memories of his family dying (except for his father, because #FuckKotaro2k21) haunt him almost every time he dreams (and if that doesn’t, then other traumatizing events certainly do), and he absolutely would not forgive himself if he dusted his favorite League member/civilian.
Definitely likens the rest of the League to his MVPs after a while of knowing them. Knowing how he operates, it’s adorable.
Would begrudgingly let Toga play around with his hair. I can just see him sitting blank-faced, staring at the mirror as she talks about whatever while brushing and braiding it into a cute plait. He would be hesitant to undo her hard work afterward, no matter how much he grouches that it “ruins his boss vibe”.
The kind of person to go to McDonalds at 3 AM just because he was craving chicken nuggets and ranch. Yes, ranch. He’s an old-school mf who don’t got no time for no barbecue.
Gets really irritated over Toga mooning over Uraraka and Midoriya, but doesn’t stop her from talking about how much she wants to ‘be’ them. (Encourages homicide. Advises homicide. Spinner has to stop her from actually getting ready to commit homicide.)
Disgruntled™
G L O A T S about the time he took away Overhaul’s chance to use his Quirk. “Yeah, we would’ve been satisfied with Compress taking his left arm away to be petty, but then Overhaul had to be a sentient piece of dick cheese, and well, y’know I couldn’t let him get away with that”
It’s becoming a problem. The others have learnt to tune him out once he gets going. Compress just smiles under the mask when he remembers it. Nobody knows what he’s really thinking.
His damn crowning moment. His apex point. There’s no going further beyond that (until he finally defeats Midoriya and takes over Japan as the world’s most feared villain of all time).
“Shigaraki, I’mma let you finish, but AFO still holds the record for being the most infamous villain of all time! Of all time!” <-- let the boy dream okay, he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life
Can you tell that I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass? Because I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass
Chronic emo phase. Hears the G note and just sighs heavily
Has probably seen hentai. Doesn’t really get the appeal of high-pitched feminine screams. Probably more of a tiddy man than an ass man. Just... boobie
His first fictional crush was Aeris/Aerith. Legitimately lost his shit when she died.
Man Crush Monday is Sephiroth all the way. Especially his one-winged angel form. Wanted to cosplay him for Halloween but didn’t because the cosplay was too costly.
Will make “That’s what she said” jokes in the most deadpan voice. At least Mustard kinda snickers at them.
Probably would’ve been pretty patient with Eri. Her traumatic past certainly would’ve pitted her as a kindred spirit with him, and he would think her Quirk would be a powerful asset if used right. Probably would’ve practiced it by destroying something and then telling her to rewind it so that he can break it again.
Shigaraki, holding Eri by her armpits: “I’ve only had her for ten minutes but if anything happened to her I’d dust everyone in the room to make her feel better”
The rest of the League: “???????? Okay?????”
Legitimately holds a powerful grudge against parents who abuse or neglect their children, especially against abusive fathers. Almost as powerful as his hatred for All Might. Will actively go after someone he sees is abusive to their children and will not let them live.
Would probably adopt an orphan after killing their abusive parents. “Oh, that was your dad/mom/parent? Well guess you’re mine now. Let’s go get chicken nuggets, kid”
Might somehow rope Dabi into going abusive-parent-hunting with him during a raid. Takes great pleasure in seeing the guilty party’s horrified, pained look on their face as they slowly dissolve into a pile of ash.
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Does Virgil from Weightless ever find his skin? It’s one of my favourite fics from you and I’d love to read what happens after!
Oof, okay so in Weightless, Virgil does find his skin! I won’t write it, purely because I don’t have the time :/// but I can give you some run downs of what would happen!!
((This is still longer than I meant it to be oh my god))
First order of business is Patton uses some of his djinn magic to locate a magic shop which is run by a pixie who calls himself Deceit and whom absolutely abhors Patton. He’s sympathetic to Virgil’s cause but he runs a business so in exchange for an actual locating spell that works on people from memory he needs something just as powerful in return.
Logan steps up and offers a bit of his blood-- him being part gorgon gives him potent blood that is definitely is rare. Deceit eyes him warily but accepts it and he gives Virgil the spell.
((Deceit also reveals the secret that Patton’s been hiding while they’re there: as a Djinn he can’t disobey any order. Which is why he’s always being so helpful and when the others ask him to do basic things he drops whatever he’s doing to complete the task. It also includes things such as “Don’t listen to this conversation until I snap my fingers” while Deceit does just because he’s petty and can.))
While they were out though, their house got broken into and its no longer safe at home, so Roman cashes in a favor with his brother in order for them to have a place to crash. Logan and Patton go over the spell with Virgil which requires the user of it to fall to sleep before its activated. Remus and Roman have a heart to heart which turns into Roman coughing up blood and his own secret being revealed: the reason why Roman acts so scattered brained and often has a hard time thinking about the others is because he quite literally can’t stop thinking about having sex, and if he goes too long without engaging in it his body starts breaking down. He was cursed as a young adult by a vengeful witch who thought they were dating when he thought they were just friends....who sometimes slept together.
((He knows its not an excuse for him acting like that, which is why he never mentioned it to anyone, but also why he’s always seeking out partners and even though he’s an incubus, he thinks if he never had sex again he’d be okay. ))
Virgil sleeps and the spell works and when he wakes up Logan hands him a map and in a trance-like state marks with a pen where his attackers are.
Remus is really excited to see an opportunity to beat up people so he comes with them to confront the guys. The attackers turn out to be a from a low level gang so there are a lot of them and turns out there were people watching them when they left Deceit’s place, the gang over powered him and dragged him out to their warehouse where they were were in the process of ripping out his wings.
And Remus completely ignores any “don’t kill” suggestions and goes right to ripping out some throats the second he sees any magical creature being tortured like that. Roman isn’t far behind them and Patton uses his magic to help free Deceit and try to heal the places where his wings were damaged. Virgil breaks the water pipes and use his water manipulating ability to defend Patton and Deceit.
((Patton reveals here that the reason why Deceit hates him so much is because he knows Deceit’s true name, which gives him absolutely control over the pixie, but Patton uses it to make Deceit stay awake through the pain, as he lost a lot of blood and if he fell unconscious now he probably wouldn’t wake back up))
Logan curbs enough of Roman and Remus’s rage to save one of the gang in order to ask him what happened to the selkie skin they stole, (and the gang member looks around at all his dead friends and asks “a skin was worth all this?” and Logan asks him, “Did you not think you were ruining lives by taking things that weren’t yours? Did you truly think no one was hurt by your actions?”)
The gang member admits they don’t have the skin, but that they sold it to these collectors: the Ackroyds, who paid them really well for it, you see? They had all sort of freaky things in their collection and he’d take a skin but he wouldn’t like kill the things and put them on display like those humans do.
And Logan freezes up at the name, noticeably, but the man is hysterical with trying to prove that he’s not really that bad, and before anyone can do anything, Logan takes off his glasses and turns the man to stone.
He puts them back on immediately but steps away from the group and refuses to look at them. He tells them that the skin is a lost cause and that they should give up.
To which Virgil is audibly horrified and angry because they got this far!! And Logan promised him--!! and Logan whips around and tells him that he never made any such promises and that if Virgil doesn’t let it go he’ll turn Virgil to stone as well, because he won’t like Virgil drag all his friends to their dooms.
At which, Deceit laughs brokenly, and asks if Logan go to attempt to make his own collection just like his parents--
And Logan’s secret comes to light: he wasn’t always part gorgon. He was actually human and his parents are mythical creature collectors but they collected creatures like butterflies: killing and pinning them in glass cases. But they often found that some creatures were immune to dying in ways that didn’t desecrate their bodies. Their solution? Find a way to make them ever lasting statues, using their son and a very expensive, unrepeatable experiment.
Logan admits that he remembers the faces of every person that his parents forced him to kill, of everyone who meets his eyes. Its his curse, and he’s always been afraid of it, because one day...he always knew that he’d join their collection too. He ran away as soon as he could, but his parents had people track him down and he was dragged back to them and they began to lock him in his room, and he was not allow out of the house at all anymore. Logan managed to escape by chance just before his sixteenth birthday.
By the time he’s finished talking he’s shaking and his knees give out but Remus is there to catch him and no one knows what to say about anything.
“I can’t...” Logan whispers, “I can’t let you go there. I can’t... please... anyone who goes there doesn’t.....get out...”
And surprisingly its Roman who speaks up, strangely blithely about it all, “Well, they were always alone, weren’t they? Hey, Specs, don’t you know you aren’t alone, anymore?”
And it turns into a rallying thing where the six of them agree that they have each other, and that they can work together to take down Logan’s parents and keep any more mythical creatures from dying at their hands. I don’t have the actual final battle thing planned out so the rest of this is really but scratched out notes and concepts that if i were actually writing this, would be subject to change according to where the plot goes.
They infiltrate first by using Virgil’s selkie rareness to draw the attention of the Ackroyds.
Unfortunately the Ackroyds are expecting them so they kinda all stumble into a trap and Logan is taken back by his parents for-- and what great timing this is! They have a new rare species!! An archangel who would look magnificent next to the Avians!
((The archangel is like eight. His name is Thomas and he’s sobbing because he doesn’t know how to use his powers yet.))
But first, its a good thing to take care of the meddling monsters that Logan had first become friends with. Starting with that selkie! And because they want him to look picture perfect even as stone they get his skin and tell him that if he cooperates they’ll let the djinn and the incubi go free (the pixie has to stay though. Its another rarity).
And well.
Virgil has been holding on to a secret too.
He’s actually the goddamn Prince of the entire fucking sea and his power is linked to his skin.
Which means that when they put the skin back on him, his abilities increase about 100fold. We stan OP Virgil in this house. Remind me how much of humans is water again? Yeah. Virgil drowns them in their own bodies and frees everyone else.
The Ackroyds have like a lot of people working for them though, so theres a battle that happens and in the middle of it Logan’s glasses get knocked off and broken and Thomas throws himself in front of Logan. Which, because Logan’s gorgon eyes are the same as staring into someone’s soul, leads to Logan staring into Thomas’s divine soul and it literally burns and blinds him.
((Thomas is really sorry, but Logan just starts sobbing thank yous to this eight year old, because now he’s never going to be forced to kill someone else.))
Our heroes win!! The Ackroyds are finished. Patton and Deceit put aside their differences in order to take joint custody of babey archangel Thomas and they, along with Roman and Logan end up living in a beach house together while researching how to remove the curse that’s on Roman. Remus comes and goes, bringing back exotic podcasts for Logan to listen too and bringing news from other locations about monster hunting.
Logan broke into his family vault and took all the money that his parents made off of selling and exploiting creatures and used it all to finance mythical creatures safehouses all across the globe. He trusts Remus and Roman to help watch over them.
Virgil returns to the ocean, just like Logan said he would at the very beginning of the story, although its because he has prince duties to adhere too. And he still sneaks up every once in a while to have dinner with all of them because I’m weak and soft for found family.
#sanders sides au#Selkie!Virgil#incubus!roman#gorgon!logan#Djinn!Patton#pixie!deceit#remus!#Good god these boys need therapy#Is this a good enough conclusion for you guys#I think its funny how much I as the author hate this story#but you guys adore it#insane#tw: child abuse#tw: murder#Roman doesn't even like sex#Patton is ella enchanted#Deceit's name is Janus but like its his true name#so no one calls him that#OP Virgil? in my fic? more likely than you think#thomas is babey#sorry i don't make the rules#weightless au#mythical creatures
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Cute Little Princess
Anonymous said: Anything with phinks please 🥺 I love this big dumb gym rat sm
Type: Phinks x Princess Reader
Au?: None (Is in the same timeline as N.E.R.D.S)
Word Count: 3,000
Warnings: Angst
Author Note: Oof you give me my boi Phinks and say anything?! Get ready my friend cause I know the perfect thing 😤👏👏. Also I used a small reference to my one of my favorite childhood shows if anyone can catch it. It’s very small though.
So today’s a Tuesday, an average taco Tuesday for mister Phinks Magcub. Well that’s what he would like to say right now.
“So Mr Magcub, you’re a wealthy businessman from the Mimbo republic?” A women says, laughing before taking a sip from from her expensive wine.
“W-why yes I am ma’am.”
Why couldn’t the boss have picked Nobunaga or even Machi for this mission? Phinks was currently stuck in the Royal Castle of the Fushi Empire. Chrollo had wanted someone to get close to the royal family in order to collect information on where their famous Dragon Eye collection was located. And of course, Shalnark, being the ass he is who was originally chosen, had to drop out at the last minute. So, Phinks had to cover for him.
Phinks is snapped out of his thoughts as the Emperor puts down his wine glass. He wipes his stubbly chin with a cloth before looking at Phinks.
“So, Mr Magcub, you said you are interested in marrying one of my daughters, if I’m correct? Which one catches your eye?” The Emperor questions, moving his hand to point at his 3 daughters. The golden robe the emperor was wearing flows in the wind from an open window as he does so.
Phinks turns to look at the girls in front of them. They were all incredibly beautiful but one had caught his eye since he first stepped into the room. It was the youngest daughter of the Fushi Emperor, (Y/n) Fushi. No one could lie that the lady was absolutely gorgeous, with locks that look like pure silk and bright diamond like eyes. She also wore a very nice light jade green and white Hanfu that made her look like a little princess. But, as much as Phinks want to choose her, he knew that the best choice for the mission would be the eldest daughter, Himiko.
“I actually like your eldest daughter, Himiko. Her long blond locks against her pink kimono really catch my eye.” Phinks says, smiling at the princess. Himiko and the middle sister giggle like crazy and whisper to each other. He’s now actually thankful that one of the old men back at Meteor City taught him proper etiquette and how to be a gentleman. Cause if he didn’t, he probably would be hanged by now.
The king chuckles at his daughter’s antics. “Well Mr. Magcub, I’m sure my daughter would love to be your bride.”
Phinks smirks to himself. What a sucker. “Please, no need for formalities, call me Phinks.”
————💥✊🏻💥————
“So, did you finally get it?” Phinks says as he leans against the windowsill. Watching the greens of the prestigious castle garden move under the moonlight gleam.
“Yeah we got it, it was pretty easy too. The Dragon Eye collection is in fact already back at the base. Also the Boss wants you back by sometime tomorrow or the day after that. So you’ll probably want to get a move on.” Nobunaga's voice says from the phone.
“Yeah, yeah. I know, I’ll be there.”
Phinks hangs up the phone and lets out a sigh. Finally, after 2 weeks stuck here, his life will go back to normal. He could finally get out of this uncomfortable green tang suit he’s been wearing. Huh? It’s you again. Phinks looks out at the window as you begin to climb the garden wall. While he’s been here, Phinks has noticed that it’s a nightly thing you do; you climb the wall, leave for hours on end and come back tired. What are you? One of the twelve dancing princesses?
He truly wonders what you go off and do. Phinks suddenly smirks to himself. Well, it is his last night here so it wouldn’t hurt to follow. Who knows maybe you're some secret stripper or lady of the night? He whistles to himself at the thought. Man that would be awesome if that is the case. He surely hopes so.
And, in a flash, Phinks is out of his bedroom, with his small bag of stuff slinged over his shoulder. After quietly jumping through the trees, he is following you down the winding streets of the capital city. It was pretty easy too since you're not wearing a cloak, after all there’s really no need for it in the first place since no one knows what the princesses look like.
You, the youngest princess of Emperor HuinYa Fushi, was slipping past people in the crowd, wearing an old Hanfu from one of the servants. Your heart is pounding as you look past the many street lanterns and open shops for the night. No matter how many times you sneak out, it nevers gets old. Afterall, you believed this sight was much more beautiful than being back at the castle. Trapped like a bird in a cage. You, honestly, just wanted to explore the world, seeing everything it has to offer. The good and the bad.
“Miss! How about a nice refreshing Bing Tanghulu? It’s only two for 25 quien.” The salesman shouts, pointing a candied strawberry skewer right at you. The man’s silliness causes you to break out in a giggle and you reach into your pocket to grab some money. Once you have the 3 silver coins needed to buy them you go to give it to the salesman.
“Here—“ “Here. She’ll take two strawberry ones and I’ll take a grape one.” You freeze as you are cut off by a man’s deep voice and an arm slinging around your shoulder. You look up as the mystery man who holds out two of the sticks to you and gasp in shock. “Phinks?!?”
“Hiyah sweetheart.” Phinks says and smirks, taking a bite out of a candied grape. You shakily grab the two sticks from him as he leads you away. How did he know you were here? Did he follow you? You look around worriedly. Wait, is your whole family at the market tonight?
“What are you doing here?!” You whisper-shout. You were probably ghostly pale from worry, though that is probably hard to see due to how dark it is out. But still, you don’t want your father to find out you're sneaking out every night. He won’t ever leave you on your own again, if he found out.
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
“W-well…” You just sigh in defeat causing Phinks to chuckle. Oh god what a mess you got into. You better hope your father and sisters aren’t actually here. You're suddenly startled as Phinks ruffle your hair.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, It’s just me. I just wanted to see where you run off to every night. Mind showing me what you do?” You bite your lip as Phinks says that. It would be fun for someone to join you for once. But… could you trust him? He might be your sister’s fiancé but they have been only engaged for 2 weeks. He’s also acting differently right now than what he is usually like. “Come on. Lead the way?”
You look up at Phinks as he pats you on the back. You guess, it wouldn’t hurt for some company for one night. Right? You giggle and grab him by the arm, dragging him down the street. “Ok! Come on then. It’ll be fun.”
Phinks smirks as he runs with you. You even looked gorgeous running through the crowds under the blurred red and yellow lanterns. He kind of wondered what it would be like running with you hand n’ hand after some sort of robbery or heist. That would be fun but oh well, at least you’re showing him what you do for fun.
————💥✊🏻💥————
This is not what Phinks expected when you said this is what you do for fun.
“Kick his ass, girl!!”
“Come on!! I bet a lot of money on that guy.”
“Hell yeah!”
There he was standing on the sidelines in an underground small stadium, watching a princess he found cute as fuck in an illegal underground fighting match. Who knew you were an enhancer as well. Phinks is knocked out of his confusion as a rumble shakes through the arena. You had just roundhouse kicked the guy out of the rink and right through a stone wall.
“And that's match! (Y/n) wins by K.O!!” The referee announces, holding up your arm. The crowd breaks out into cheers and boos. Phinks grumbles, some of the people who bet on that guy were just sore losers.
“Phinks!” Phinks looks up to see you running and leaning on the railing of the fighting floor. Damn. Phinks felt like he was melting into the floor as you came up to him. You honestly looked like his dream girl; You looked so cute with diamond shining eyes, your fragile doll-like features and your silky hair pulled out of your face. But, with you covered in sweat, bruised up a little and covered in the blood from the other guy, you also looked so hot and now ten times better than he first met you in his opinion. “W-what did you think?”
Phinks chuckles as you look nervous, waiting for his opinion. “That was awesome. Good job! I didn’t even know you knew nen.”
“Ah-h yeah. I got initiated into it after some of the older members gave me a heads up for a championship match I was supposed to take part in. I was honestly so thankful for them.” You say, remember back to about 2 years when this had all started. Wow…it had really been that long ago. Oh, wait a minute! “Phinks!”
Phinks hums in response and raises an eyebrow. You blush in embarrassment and look down, fumble with the rope like railing. You can’t believe you're about to ask this, “D-Do you wanna do a match?”
Phinks is shocked for a minute before smirking and jumping up over the rope. You light up like a kid on Christmas as soon as you see him step into the ring. “Sure sweetheart. But, I ain’t going easy on you.”
“O-ok! Hey Ref, I have a challenger!”
Phinks smiles as he watches you run off to the ref to explain the match and your challenger. Honestly, he’s positive at this point that you're his dream girl. He suddenly frowns as he realizes something.
He has to leave tonight…. crap.
“Phinks!!” Phinks looks up as you stand on the other side of the ring. “Ready?”
Phinks smiles and nods. The match bell rings signaling the fight has begun. He’ll deal with that problem once it comes. But right now, it’s his time to have fun.
————💥✊🏻💥————
“Awww man!! I can’t believe you beat me~ I for sure thought I was going to win.” You whine as you and Phinks make your way through the now dark and practically empty streets. All the lanterns were out so the only light provided was from the big full moon dropping into the horizon, though you didn’t mind since it was such a clear night out. A perfect night to watch the stars. Well, it technically would have been but you were so distracted by the fun you were having that you didn’t realize how late it is. The sun will break over the horizon any second now and you better get back to the castle.
Though that was the least of your concerns, Phinks was acting weird. He hadn’t answered you or smiled at all since you two started walking back to the castle. The only thing he did other than walk behind you and act like a puss is he kept on weirdly checking his phone every couple of seconds. Like he was waiting for something. Did something happen while you weren’t looking?
You hear a small grumble from him as he checks his phone again. That was it. You’ve had enough of his antics. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Phinks! What’s the matter with you?”
Phinks blinks a couple of times before pushing past you, grumbling something under his breath. That ass! You weren’t having any of that so you grabbed onto his arm and pulled him down onto the ground. Phinks glares at you as he lands on his ass, “What the hell was that for?!”
“That’s for not listening to me! Now, what is wrong with you? I thought we had fun tonight.”
Phinks tches and mumbles, “Well it’s not like it’s ever going to happen again.”
“W-well why not?!”
“It’s just not alright!” He shouts, brushing himself off as he stands up from the dirty ground. You glare at the man in front of you, a golden hue surrounding him since the sun has just begun to rise over the horizon.
You were just so confused as he just stalks by you again. What did he mean by you two wouldn’t do this again? Of course you two could. He’s going to be around the castle for practically 3 months before he gets married to your sister. “Of course we can do this again!! We could do this every once in a while or even every night. Your marrying my sister in 3 month—“
“I’M NOT MARRYING HER!” Phinks shouts angrily, stopping in his tracks; His back facing you. You froze in place.
“W-why not… I don’t understand…”
Phinks chuckles darkly at that and he reaches to the front of his shirt, unbuttoning the collared shirt. “Of course you don’t…well I’m going to spell it out for you, sweetheart.”
With a flick of his wrist, Phinks pulls down the top half of his green tang suit down. You gasp a little as you see it. In the golden light of the sun, you see a big spider tattoo with the number 5 on it. He is…
Your throat and lips suddenly felt very dry as you attempted to speak. “Y-you’re part of the phantom troupe... So, you were after…”
“Yeah. I was after the Dragon Eye Collection this whole time. And now that we have it, I’m leaving and never coming back.”
You stood there frozen as you watched him finally turn around and walk past you. You stare at the ground unable to look at his face as he places a warm hand on your head.
“I was going to walk you back but I doubt that’s needed. So long, (y/n).”
And like that Phinks is gone. Yet you could still feel the strange warmth that his hand provided on the top of your head. You laugh for a second before hot bubbling tears cascade down your face. How strange this is. How strange it is that a man you’ve only known for two weeks has made you this happy in one night. More happy than you’ve ever been.
You curl down into your knees as you sob. It hurts. Your heart really hurts. You’ve never felt so lonely and empty before.
————💥✊🏻💥————
Phinks walks through the bamboo shoot forest outside of the capital city. He’s lost in his thoughts when suddenly his phone finally dings. He looks at it for a second before he finally chuckles.
“Too late for that now, boss.” He mumbles to himself, looking at the text written out.
Boss: Well based on what you told me, since she can take care of herself she is fine to stay, but she also can’t interfere with troupe activities. Bring her at the meeting tomorrow so the members can meet her. I’m honestly curious as to why you picked her.
It was honestly way too late. Maybe if he hadn’t told you right then and walked you back to the castle then, maybe you two would be together right now? No, it would be inevitable at that point. He would have to leave eventually and he highly doubts you would go with him. You're a princess after all and he’s just some pathetic street rat.
Phinks sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair. Man, you really drive him crazy.
“Phinks!!”
Phinks blinks as he hears a faint voice yelling in the distance.
“Phinks!”
There it is again. Wait, he recognizes that voice.
“(Y/n)!” Phinks run off in your direction as he sees you also alone in the bamboo woods with a backpack on your back. You smile, with your tears streak cheeks stretching, as you also run over to him. Clutching onto him like your life depended on it. Phinks finally smiled for the first time that morning as he heard you mumble 5 magical words into his jacket.
“Don’t leave me behind, idiot.”
Maybe, just maybe, hope wasn’t all lost for that spider.
Bonus:
“Crap another group of guards. This is the 10th search group out to look for you today.” Phinks mutters angrily, as you two hide from them in a bush. You sigh, kind of sad that you were making Phinks go through all this trouble for you.
“I’m sorry Phinks. Maybe I really should have stay—“
“Don’t you dare say that, sweetheart. Now that you're with me you aren’t ever going back.” You blink a couple of times before giggling and holding on to him tight.
“Thank you Phinks…”
.
.
.
“Hey Paul. Did you hear a giggle over there just now?”
You and Phinks freeze. Crap!
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Rooftop Rendezvous
Den of Thieves Borracho x Black!OC
Summary: Benny "Borracho" Magalon works tirelessly under Nick O'Brien's cruel regime as a member of the Major Crimes division of New York (formally Los Angeles). His baby and her mom don't see him for weeks at a time, but tonight, Daddy comes home.
Masterlist
Rating: Explicit +18
Warning(s) [this one's a doozy so here we GO]: smut, porn with plot, unprotected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool!), roof top sex, CAUGHT public sex, vaginal penetration, anal play (male receiving), minor injuries, mentions of blood, slight angst?... and I probably missed something and I apologize
Word Count: uh yup there are definitely words here.
Author's Note: FIRST. Show me another fic written about Maurice Compte's character from Den of Thieves who had virtually no lines or direct screen time and who's presence is so insignificant I had to look up his name in the credits! SHOW ME I DARE YOU... please? I'd be mystified to read it, I couldn't find any... it's exclusively Paul Schreiber up in that fandom.
Nobody asked for this so I will not be tagging anyone... if you’d like to be tagged for more Borracho, holler at me in the comments!
Picture courtesy of le Google
Their New York apartment is only third floor, the view from the south side window obscured by the iron fire escape, and the east windows separated by rooms. Minnie always crawled into her bed whenever her dad was away. He worked long hours– longer than most cops under Nick's leadership– and so the bed was empty for so long that Robyn stopped saying no because she was lonely, too.
City noise never stopped. There were still places to go, work to be done, crime to commit, people to arrest, parties to go to, errands to run, and people to see. City noise never stopped, but it did slow down. Police sirens were harder to go unnoticed but they were often far away. Any conversation on the street level drifted high up to the windows but wasn't strong enough to overhear. Minnie's breathing was soft– there was a light whistle escaping her nose. Rob was finally beginning to drift off for the night when the weight of her daughter lifted from her arms.
Heavy booted footsteps moved quietly out of the room and down the hall, taking Minnie's soft snore with them. The urge to get up twitched in her limbs but did not spur her into action, she was too close to the edge of sleep to wake up. The boots came back, and the soft scuff of removal followed before perfect city silence fell upon the bedroom once more. That is until a large hand grabbed her tightly by the arm and jerked her into the sitting position.
Rob tried to scream but her voice was too weak and it came out more like a squeak. Fuzzy chin hair scraped her cheek as the intruder pressed a rough kiss to her mouth.
"Get up," he growled, "need you…"
His voice sent a bolt of electricity to her core. It was her husband who was pulling her impatiently off the bed and to her feet. She fell against his chest and made him carry her to the living room, opting to remain just limp enough to be moved like a rag doll. When his profile caught in the silver tone of the moon, she heard herself whimper. He looked intimidating with the bold line of his nose and the thick weight of his brow. He sat her down a little too roughly onto the windowsill and she oofed, rubbing her sore butt.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Unlocking the window, he reclaimed her lips before taking her hand and guiding her out onto the fire escape.
"Where the hell are we going?"
"Roof," he said curtly. He followed her out and closed the window just a sliver so they could get back inside this way. "I don't want to wake up Minnie."
The climb up to the roof was long and slow. Rob was sure he was staring at her ass, and sure enough when she looked back she met his hungry gaze as it flicked upwards. He kept pace behind her even though with his powerful stride he could easily overtake her, and she knew why when his hand passed over her sleeping shorts again and again, taking handfuls of her ass and squeezing. They were halfway up the building when Rob's brain finally cleared of the mental fog of sleep.
"Minnie's a heavy sleeper babe, we can just lock the door."
Benny shook his head. In a moment, his body was pressed into her back and his voice in her ear. "I love you. As soon as we get up there, I'm gonna fuck you like I don't, and I'm not gonna be able to keep you quiet for it."
Rob shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold. Benny swatted her ass and she kept going, moving a little faster in anticipation this time. The last three flights of stairs went by too fast and then they were on the uneven, concrete shithole that was the roof of their apartment complex.
"Get down!" Rob grabbed the back of Benny's head as they ducked behind an air conditioning unit. It was one of their neighbors, an old guy who had a pigeon coop. She didn't need to hear Benny growl because she could feel it rumble from deep in his chest. They held their position until Old Andy limped his way to the roof access door and moved the stopper chair aside, retreating into the building to sleep.
Alone at last with the beast. Benny pulled the stocking cap off his head and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. His jaw ticked like he was looking for a fight– and that's exactly what Rob was going to give him (he knew it by the way she smirked).
Her name had barely passed through his lips when she threw a punch at him. He caught it with ease and tried to wrap her up in his arms, but she ducked and tried to run. She didn't get far, what with the locked grip on her wrist, and he dragged her back to him so roughly she screamed. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and made her thighs slick, she growled when his hand caught her jaw and his teeth dug into that perfect spot on her neck.
"Take your fucking clothes off," he growled, then let her go.
He stretched the seams in her shorts pulling them down her legs. Rob slept in no underwear, and Benny definitely ripped her shirt taking it off. She crossed her arms against the cold and the blatant exposure.
"I liked that shirt, you bastard." The man responded with nothing more than a wink.
While Benny was unbuckling his belt, Rob fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. It was a struggle trying to work with stiff-from-the-cold fingers and stay out of his way. Once his belt was free of the pant loops, his hand wrapped around hers, taking up the fold of his shirt, and pulling hard. Two buttons ripped and became lost among the gravel on the ground. He shrugged out of the patterned shirt and let her hang on to it.
Benny bent over to work his shoes off and when he looked back up, Rob was draped in nothing but his plaid shirt. He cupped himself in his jeans just for a second before taking them down as far as his knees. He watched the woman's bare feet work around the sharp rocks to stand behind him. There was hardly a second to squint before her finger slipped between his butt cheeks like the world's most inappropriate wet willy.
He tensed only for a moment, then relaxed the muscles in his body so she could slip a second finger in his asshole. He only managed to push his pants halfway down his calves before his bobbing cock demanded attention. As his back straightened, Rob stopped fingering him and let him pull her to his chest to plant a kiss to her hairline. She shuddered knowing it would be the last gentle thing he did to her up here.
She was practically dripping wet, no need to ease in and frankly, he didn't have the patience for it anymore. Rob let him control her position. He had one arm wrapped around her middle and the other tangled in the micro braids of her hair. He pulled her down on his cock and she hissed from the burn. Benny's dick stretched all kinds of pussy open wide and tonight he was hard as a rock doing it. She made a noise like a rabbit in a bear trap when he finally bottomed out. The unkept hair on his balls tickled everything around it.
Suddenly, the word went bright white and the two of them froze.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Fuck! Old Andy’s got a flashlight and is standing awkwardly behind the roof door. His eyes are wide and confused, not that Rob could actually see since he’s got the damn light shining directly on her. Benny can see just fine though. He can see an old man interrupting their very public private moment and getting some ideas about the situation.
“M-Miss. Robyn? Are you alright?”
In hindsight, Benny realized this probably looked very bad.
“Let her go, asshole, I’m calling the police!”
Rob stuck her hand out defensively. “No! Mr. Mandel, this is–” she moaned quietly as she moved just a little bit on his stiff cock– “this is my husband. I’m fine, really. Go back to bed.”
Old Andy wasn’t giving up. He glared at Benny unconvinced, and Benny smirked. He let her hair slip from his hand and placed both of his hands on the back of his head. Rob’s own hands found his hips– as embarrassed as she felt, she didn’t want him to stop.
“She’s free to go, aren’t you, Robbie?” He said it to Old Andy, who couldn’t mind his own business, but Benny made sure to alleviate the man’s fears. Or rather, he’d let Rob do it for him. With no one to control her (and drunk off the feeling of having Benny, completely raw, for the first time in ages), Rob mewled and began to fuck herself on his cock, encouraged just a little by the rock of his own hips to meet hers. She bit her lip, curling her spine to look up at him with lust in her eyes.
"Bunch of freaks!" Andy stormed off, disgusted, and probably looking to bother the landlord about it. But nobody was going to stop Benny from having his wife. He covered her hands with his own and squeezed, before slipping out of her warmth and forcing her down to her hands and knees. He dropped, grunting as the sharp gravel sent a pins-and-needles sensation up his thigh. He slipped right back into her sticky cave and began pounding fast and loose into her.
Rob's pussy suckled his cock like she was afraid he wouldn't slam it home but he did. Every. Single. Time. His breath began to billow in clouds, sharply contrasting white against the black blanket of night. He was right– she would never have been able to keep quiet. Rob made a high keening noise, sharply cut every time his hips connected, and broken strings of unintelligible words pouring out of her mouth like drool. He fucked her harder, chasing his release and knowing she couldn't be far herself. Her knees slid in the gravel and she yelped before cumming so hard she couldn't breath. Benny tangled his fingers into her hair when he felt his balls tighten and pulled back when he lost his rhythm. He groaned long and low, pressing his hips flush against hers and giving her everything– all of his cum. More ropes painted her walls as he collapsed on top of her back, pinning her to the dirty rooftop.
His vision danced with stars, and when he realized Rob was breathing again, he rocked his hips just for the hell of it. Benny's legs were numb, saliva on the edge of his mouth that he wanted to share with Rob. She let him kiss her but pulled away to catch her breath. She let him do all the work of standing them up, and she waited until he was distracted pulling up his pants to wipe the gravel out of the fresh abrasions in her skin.
Coming down from their highs, Rob collected her shorts and Benny's hat, grimacing as her pussy clenched around nothing, sore and wracked with the aftershocks of sex. The walk back down to their window was slower, Rob's trembling legs keeping her tied to the railings for dear life. Benny noticed her lagging behind and came back with a real, satisfied smile on his face as he picked her up and carried her over his shoulder the rest of the way (careful not to exacerbate her soreness). He didn't put her down until he reached the couch.
He knelt before her on his good knee to examine her. Rob was sunk into the plush couch basking in fucked out bliss. There was a soft smile on her lips and the rise and fall of her naked chest beneath his open shirt ignited that feral feeling in his chest again. He ran a hand up her thigh and noticed the state of her knees. Feeling guilty, he planted a kiss just above them.
"Lo siento."
Benny grabbed the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink. As he went to wash his hands, he noticed the sticky mess on them– there was blood there too. He opened his fly and looked just to be certain… and sure enough there was a little blood in his pants too.
The frantic footfalls coming towards her on the couch startled her back into wakefulness. Benny was almost in a full sprint and he looked terrified. His hands were shaking as he gently pried her legs apart, he looked ready to cry when it seemed to hurt her.
"Are you OK?" He pulled at the waistband of her shorts but her hands stopped him. "You're bleeding...?"
It took her a second to realize he wasn't asking about her knees. She shook her head, sitting up a little and getting comfortable against the ache in her sex to press her forehead to his.
"I'm fine," she said, "I'm OK. You um… caught me coming off my period, that's all."
His eyes rolled back into his head he was so relieved. Rob couldn't help but laugh and he joined in. He sighed and grabbed the kit to treat her knees. She sat back again, reveling in the feeling of having her husband back for the night.
~
Rob snored softly. Benny finished bandaging her up and took a seat next to her. He had had to wrap up her palms, too, there were some light grazes and a deep cut in one of them. He stuck his nose in her hair and inhaled, drinking in the scent of apricot, coconut, and black pepper.
God I missed you.
The clock was ticking fast and daylight was right around the corner. No doubt they would get a visit from the landlord about Andy's complaint, and there was the matter of the energetic six-year-old who would be awake soon. Just a few hours of sleep in his own bed was what he really needed now.
He thought about leaving Rob be, but he didn't want to be apart from her any more than he had to. He set her down in the bed and crawled in after her, pulling the blankets up from the floor and wrapping it around them.
Just for a little while he wanted peace. He was trying to get comfortable when his phone started to ring. He did not have to look to know who it was, calling at 4 am after only 2 hours of separation. Benny nerfed the call and turned his phone off with a great sense of satisfaction, then curled around Rob's sleeping form. He let the shallow rise and fall of her breathing lull him into a half sleep, fully intending to get up in three hours to make Minnie breakfast and just be a dad for a day.
Edit: I'm a clown, I misspelled his last name whoops hope you enjoyed it anyways
#Den of Thieves#Borracho Imagine#Borracho x OC#smut#maybe one shot#nah just kidding I'm gonna do more
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Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 5) John Deacon x Reader Series
GIF: @johndeac
Apologies for the delay! Work has been an absolute shit fest. The big show I’m on got canceled, but we still have to finish the season at some point so oof. Also, my boss is moving to Italy? Pray for my sanity, folks.
Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.
This series is a work of fiction and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.
PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4
Pairing: John Deacon x Reader
Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety. Angst (oooo!)
Chapter Notes: I've rewritten this chapter so many times that I don't even know what it is anymore. Angst is hard, my dudes! Why can't it all be flirty glances and quick banter?!
Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac
Songs Mentioned:
Moonlight in Vermont - Frank Sinatra
Blues Run The Game - Jackson C. Frank
Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady @theresalexis @uglipotata72829
- - - - - - -
September 1982 - The Music Inn, New York City
“Bri, get a load of all these fucking maracas!”
Brian makes his way over to where Roger is gazing at a massive wall adorned with shaker-filled shelves, dipping his head low to avoid the sea of guitars hanging from the ceiling above his long frame.
Queen was back in New York for their first-ever appearance on Saturday Night Live. Finding time in between the intensive rehearsals during the week had been hard, but Freddie insisted they would make the time for his favorite New Yorkers. When the time was finally found, he, of course, was unavailable, off antiquing at some of Manhattan’s luxury spots but promised to meet up with the group later on.
The Limbs managed to snag the other three men for a trip to the historic Music Inn. Nestled in the heart of Greenwich Village, the dingy treasure trove was located a stone’s throw away from the city’s most prominent folk clubs that boasted discovering the talents of Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel.
You were quite confident that your newfound English friends would love it. Every visible space was stuffed or covered with an abundance of musical paraphernalia. So much so that you had been in the store dozens of times without ever finding out what color the walls were. Its layout was always changing to fit the ever-growing amount of items displayed, the familiar specks of dust that sparkled in the sunlight being the only constants.
“Hey, Jeff!” Steve calls out to the eccentric owner. “Where are these from?”
The aging hippie shuffles over. “Mostly South America,” he explains in his usual gravelly drawl. “A customer brought back some new shekeres from West Africa last week that have a nice sound to them.” Jeff motions up the sprawling wall. Roger immediately grabs a few, testing the sounds out against the ones Steve is already playing with - the two of them like kids in a candy store.
Jeff had been a good friend to The Limbs since their early teen years, having let the group spend hours on end attempting to learn every exotic instrument they could get their hands on. Anyone who entered the shop could count on him as a spirit guide of sorts to a wealth of worldly music. And while The Limbs had kept their first album fairly plain in context, they were already itching, particularly Steve, to experiment on the next album. Whenever that would be.
Now that a few more of their singles were moderately successful hits, Columbia Records was focused on milking it for all that it was worth. The execs were currently setting up an extensive American tour of the Mid - West Coast part of the country, all the major cities they hadn’t hit on their first tour.
“Y/N,” Jeff gestures for you to follow him, probably excited to show you a new find seeing as you were always eager and willing to give them a test run. You make your way down the staircase lined with large balalaikas to the musty lower level filled with various sound equipment and electronic instruments.
“What on god’s green earth would you use that for?” you hear Rich’s deep voice implore. He rolls his eyes as Eddie moons over an ornately engraved mandolin.
“It worked for Rod Stewart, didn’t it? That mandolin solo in Maggie May shredded,” he retorts. “Plus, look how pretty she is!”
You watch your feet as you carefully maneuver around the amps and pedals haphazardly strewn around the floor, following Jeff to the back of the room - taking special care to step around John, who is crouched low looking over the wiring of a particularly grody-looking amp.
Upon entering the store, he had taken off on his own right away, immediately entranced by the sprawling selection all about him. But you had caught the worn, far-off look in his eyes when he greeted you with a short wave earlier. You try not to let the lack of attention bother you as you pass him without so much as a glance up. The heartfelt conversation you had the last time they were in town had rooted itself in your memory. Spilling your guts like you did that night wasn't a common occurrence for you- figuring you were already easy enough to read due to the panicked expression often etched onto your face.
Why him? Even your bandmates weren’t privy to the babblings of your intimate thoughts. It couldn’t just be his boyish tooth-gap or the pleasing line of his straight nose. Maybe it was the confusing mix of nerves and comfort you felt whenever in his presence. It was unlike the persistent butterflies you were used to when around attractive humans. Feeling instead like a gentle humming that you somehow sensed everywhere at once.
You’re brought out of your swimming thoughts as Jeff clears his throat loudly to get your attention. You must’ve been staring blankly at the floor for quite a while. He gestures to a bulky item draped in a tarp, as you give him a small apologetic smile.
“Oh yes, very pretty,” you smirk at him.
He rolls his eyes as he attempts to sweep the tarp off in a dramatic reveal, but in reality, it gets stuck. The man scrambles to uncover it, and as soon as it peeks out, you gasp.
“A theremin!”
You gaze at the ordinary-looking wooden cabinet in awe. It must be old, seeing as they were mostly compact now.
“You haven’t had one in ages,” you marvel, locking eyes with Jeff.
“Which means it’s been a while since I’ve heard your ambient screeches plaguing these walls.”
Your finger points to him in protest. “Hey, I was getting better until you sold the last one on me!”
“Well, I didn’t see you making a bid for it,” he playfully shrugs.
“Let’s hear those screeches!” Eddie yells out. Rich claps his hands excitedly beside him. You poke your tongue out at them, but your eyes catch John’s, and you quickly close your mouth. Still crouched, he looks on with mild curiosity wrinkled on his brow. He lightly raises them at you in silent encouragement.
You slowly make your way behind the instrument as Jeff plugs it into the wall. Turning one of the knobs, it hums to life as you check the metal attachments protruding from the wood frame. It really is old. You have no idea how to even begin to calibrate it. Taking a deep breath, you timidly bring your hands up in position.
It lets out a high pitched wail that burns your ears from being so close, and you yank your hands away from the field of current. Eddie and Rich erupt into cheers while John slowly stands, moving a bit closer to see the mechanism properly.
Jeff lightly pushes you back towards it in a gentle coax. This time you slowly bring your curled hand a reasonable distance away from the pitch antenna, keeping your other low on the one for volume. Squeezing your eyes shut to focus on the tone, you slowly move until you find your starting note. It was all about sense memory and your ears to fill the gaps with nothing to physically touch.
Uncurling your fingers, you begin the opening notes of Moonlight in Vermont - the one song you had somewhat taught yourself through hours of painstaking practice. You fumble a bit, eliciting a squeak or two while trying to remember the hand placements that produce the proper notes. While you might “play” many instruments, you were middling at many, master of none. You make it through the first verse before your head starts to pound from your jaw-clenched concentration.
“Fuck the mandolin, let’s get that for the next album!” you hear Rich tell Eddie.
“Ah, yes, you’ve heard Pet Sounds. Now prepare your ears for The Limb’s sophomore attempt, Ghost Sounds,”
Their banter is drowned out as John chimes in. “How on earth did you learn that?” You meet his struck expression and shrug lightly.
“Don’t downplay it, Bun. It’s pretty fucking cool,” Rich assures you. “And her knowing ASL also helps,” he explains to John.
“Sign language?”
“Oh yeah, Y/N’s mom is deaf,” Eddie reveals bluntly. You shoot him a look.
“Sorry, hard of hearing,” he holds his hands out in defense.
John is silent for a moment as he mulls the information over, causing a speck of tension in the room.
“Your mother’s never heard you sing?” he asks incredulously as if he can’t possibly imagine it.
You give a small smile. “No, I guess she hasn’t. But I was in the car with her the first time I heard us on the radio. I turned the treble down and the bass all the way up and she bopped along to the beat pretty well.”
Rich chuckles lightly at the story. “She’s always been hoot, hasn’t she?”
You nod gently. “Aptly put. That’s how she describes herself as a matter of fact.”
John shoves his hands deep in his pockets as he takes a look around the room, his cheeks a light pink. You're unsure of why.
“I’m gonna head out for a quick smoke,” you decide, patting Jeff on the shoulder. “I know how you hate it.”
He gives your hand a light squeeze before you make your way upstairs, hoping to catch John’s eyes, but he avoids yours yet again.
A pleasing blend of harmonies can be heard as you hit the landing. You peek your head around a large assortment of bongos to find Brian strumming a small acoustic on the other side of the store. Roger, Steve, and Lawrence all crammed around, the four of them singing a rendition of Blues Run the Game.
Your heart warms at the sight, remembering the times when you and the boys would sit around a campfire and croon out the same sad tune. Eddie and Rich will be pissed they missed this. Steve notices your presence and silently ticks his head for you to come join. You hold up your pack of Marlborough’s in response to him before finally slipping out the front, trying your best to not jingle the adorned bells too much.
A cool breeze promptly passes through the knit of your sweater. It’s late September, and New York has begun to really cool off. You pull down the sleeves to cover your hands as you light your cigarette, wincing a bit on the first inhale. It was a leftover habit from your college days- scarcely used, only in social situations, or to get out of awkward ones.
Taking in the familiar street, you can’t help but giggle at the day you were having. To be showing Queen around your old hangout still felt absurd. No matter how genuinely they seemed to like the company of your band, you couldn’t fathom them wanting to spend the day with you all. Weren’t there bigger and better musicians in this city to be hanging out with?
The sound of a lighter flicking to life comes from your left, and you turn. John leans against the faded wall as he takes a drag, his eyes trained on the dirty sidewalk.
“I’m sorry, i- if I offended you with my comment about your mother,” he professes quietly.
Your brows shoot up in confusion. “What?”
“We have a friend whose father is deaf. A lovely man. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” He sighs, finally turning to face you. “It’s just that the memory of hearing your voice for the first time isn’t something one can easily shake. I mean that in a way that- it’s just a shame really. For her to not be able to share in it when it’s something so...” he looks as if he’s racking his brain for an appropriate word. “Well, singular.”
You suck in a breath at his words. In all your years, you had never gotten that as a response to your mother’s disability. It was mostly a polite, “Oh, really? I’m so sorry to hear that.” His honesty and consideration for your feelings knock the present hum of your body up to 100.
You flinch as gentle burning hits your fingers, and you look down at your forgotten cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground before crushing it under your heel. John shifts his weight from side to side, never taking his eyes off of you while he waits for you to collect your thoughts.
“I write out my lyrics for her so she can read them as poems,” you state simply, smiling up at him. “Sometimes she makes up her own melodies and sings them around the house. It’s not the easiest on the ears, but she’s pretty inventive.” His eyes crinkle as he returns your grin - his first genuine one of the day.
“So she’s heard music before?”
“Oh yeah. She has nerve deafness, which didn’t start till her late twenties. She actually spent a lot of time around here when she was younger. Bitter End and The Gaslight are just a few blocks away.”
He hums lightly as he stares at you- like you’re a puzzle whose pieces are just beginning to fit together.
“Can you teach me something in sign language?”
Once again, your brows shoot up, shocked by his response. You blink a few times, trying to think of what to say. Going with the only thing that pops to mind, you sign out a phrase as he watches your hands intently.
“And what does that mean?”
You smirk, “You are a cheesy cow.”
“I’m sorry?” he laughs out.
You repeat it back slowly while signing along. “You. Are. A. Cheesy. Cow. It’s the first thing my mother taught me how to sign.”
He runs his hand over his jaw as he chuckles. “Rich was right. A hoot she must be.”
“I’m pretty shit, to be honest, and she read lips, so it’s mostly used for snide comments during extended family gatherings.”
You watch as he puts out his cigarette and carefully takes a step closer to you. “I’m assuming your colourful vocabulary extends to those instances as well.”
“Right you are.”
“Freddie will love that,” he snickers. “He always seems to collect vulgarities in other languages wherever we go.”
Your attention is torn away as a sleek black car rolls up to a stop at the curb. It’s out of place in the middle of the street filled with old and worn buildings, which can similarly describe the people who mill about.
“Speak of the Queen herself,” you laugh as a sunglass-clad Freddie steps onto the sidewalk.
“Oh, isn’t this quaint!” he exclaims, peering into the shop window. He straightens as he turns to you, hands-on-hips.
“Deacy. Thumper. Are we fans of freezing our tits off, or shall we go inside?”
You give John a small smile and push yourself off the wall, making your way over to Freddie, who immediately pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The bells against the door ring out as you all enter the shop.
“Ah, Deacy,” Brian pokes his head out from one of the narrow aisles, still in a constant crouch to avoid the instruments above his head. “I was looking for you. Found these adorable teeny guitars I thought might be good to bring back for the kids. What do you think?”
“Kids?” you mumble to yourself as John makes his way over to inspect them.
“Brian has two, and John’s already up to 3. Maybe we should’ve nicknamed him Bunny.” Freddie laughs, nudging your arm. “You know… fucking like rabbits,” he expands due to your lack of chuckling.
He leans into your field of vision as he studies your statue-like expression, eyebrows knit in confusion. His eyes take in your ashen face and your lifeless expression. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. When you lock your eyes with his, you know he understands from the sheer size of how big they become. He straightens up, glancing around quickly as if looking for something to put out a fire.
“Freddie!” Steven dances over, clicking a pair of castanets in his hands. “I wanted to show you thi-”
“So sorry, love, we can’t. Y/N promised to come to a fitting with me, and we’re already late," he announces loudly, pulling you by the arm and out the door before anyone can react.
- - - - - - -
You blankly stare at your reflection in the long mirror. Freddie had instructed his stylist to pull some outfits for you to parade around in as he tried on a bevy of metallic coats.
“You’re an idiot,” you tell the girl staring back at you.
Freddie sashays over, a shag jacket swaying with him as he places his hands on your shoulders, surveying the strappy dress you were currently squeezed into.
“Oh yes, this will do for the after-party,” he instructs.
“I’m not going.”
He heaves a deep sigh. “Darling, you already refused the ticket I got you for the show. You’re coming to the party,” he declares, turning away to look at more options.
“This isn’t really me…” you mumble, gesturing to the dress.
He regards you with a small smile. “Exactly. I say this with love, but you need a look, Y/N. Something that makes you feel unstoppable,” he gestures to his body as he twirls towards you. “Don’t you want to shock them?”
You chew your lip as you ponder that sentiment. Dawn usually just shoved you into whatever ensemble she had picked for you - leather jackets, monochromatic sets, tight jumpsuits. She kept hoping you’d find a style you fancied, but you had yet to find anything remotely likable under the lights of the stage.
“To be honest, I just want to be able to feel comfortable out there," you sigh. "But I can’t strut around in flashy outfits or conduct a whole crowd like you do." Huffing as you collapse onto one of the white couches around you. He perches beside you, throwing an arm around the back of the sofa.
“Then don’t,” he says simply.
You snort a response as you cross your arms over your chest.
“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but have you tried showing them a bit more of yourself?”
“I can’t do that.”
He turns to you now, grabbing your attention with his eyes.
“And why not?” he questions.
You gaze down at your hands, which you’re now wringing together in your lap. “What if it’s nothing spectacular?” you whisper out the criticism that you'd drilled into your mind for the past year.
Freddie laughs lightly as he stands. “Let’s not start lying to ourselves, shall we?” He moves in front of you and kneels, now at eye level, making so you can’t look away.
“Sometimes people go to a concert for an escape. A big bloody show with dazzling lights and petite men galavanting around a stage in spandex tights,” he smiles.
“But most of the time they just want to find a piece of themselves in it, don’t they? Commonality. They want to hear you, see you, and feel just a little less alone than we all know we are. I saw just a slice of it at your concert, and it was indeed something spectacular. So take that as you will.”
You’re not one to cry much, but your eyes soften as you take in the icon of a man in front of you. A man loved by millions, who was currently filling in as your personal rock n’ roll fairy godmother.
“You’re a fantastic person, you know that?” you tell him genuinely.
“Yes,” he quips as he gets to his feet. “Now, are we done scurrying around the real problem at hand?”
You sigh as you look away, firmly willing yourself not to break the dam of bottled emotions threatening to spill out. Why couldn't you just feel numb? It would be better than the wave of childish self-pity you found yourself in.
Freddie huffs at your reaction. “Oh, you brat. Sorry to tell you, but you’re an open book, my dear. And not one of those big pompous things Brian reads. A bloody children’s book. One filled with pictures.”
You're sure you’ve now bitten through the entire top layer of your lip as you contemplate how to even begin.
“I’m an idiot,” you shrug to yourself yet again.
“No,” he points a finger at you. “You’re decidedly not. Though I am curious as to how someone who’s as big of a fan as your friends say you are, missed out on that detail.”
“I’m not sure either. I mean, I listen to your albums and go to your show, but I guess I didn’t pour over the tabloids or press interviews or anything like that.”
Freddie nods along as he sifts through another rack of jackets, choosing an incredibly tight white leather number.
“I assumed you knew,” he answers while glancing at his reflection. “And I would say Deacy should know better, but he’s not quite himself at the moment.”
“What do you mean?” you press, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.
He turns to you, palms up in explanation. “It’s not that he wouldn’t normally be charmed by your shy presence and occasionally crass mouth… But I’m a bit worried he’s finding comfort in your smiles for the wrong reasons.”
“Huh?”
Sighing heavily as if debating if he should keep skirting around his words, he holds your gaze. “An impending divorce is crippling lonely, even if it is somewhat amicable.”
His mouth is brought into a pout as you suck in a sharp breath.
Divorce. All your previous interactions play through your head from a different angle. Pity sneaks up on you as you remember John’s advice he’d given you. The concept of home is a funny thing. You scoff out loud at how your childlike crush had skewed your interpretation of your relationship with the man.
“I’m usually the one singing his praises,” Freddie muses, breaking you out of your inner monologue of resentment towards yourself. “But he seems more lost than usual at the moment.”
He gently lifts your chin. “I don’t normally meddle in- well, actually I do. Just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bunny. Not when the world is soon to be at your feet.”
"I'm fine," you lie, gently brush away his gesture. "I barely even know the guy. I was just shocked to have my silly fascination with him interrupted. Stupid, really."
"Don't do that," he exhales. "Don't put it on yourself. You'd have to be blind to ignore the fact that he's quite taken with you."
"I'm fine," you repeat, making your way into the back to change out of the ridiculous dress that suddenly felt even tighter now.
Shutting the door slowly, you let out a deep breath. It's all good, you tell yourself. Of course you got caught up in the attention of a world-renown musician. Who wouldn't? It's nothing special. As Freddie said, he's not even acting like himself. Although you were indeed in true form- getting caught up by the slightest of interactions. Unconsciously playing them as a loop in your head. You can't help but cringe at your own escalation of the situation.
Squaring your shoulders, you take in the image of yourself in the dress again. Perhaps it was time for you to shock them all.
- - - - - - -
“And so my grandfather goes out to the alley and sees her just wailing on this scrawny man. I mean, really going to town. So he pulls her off him, and the dude’s got a black eye and a bloody nose. And he’s like, “Thanks mate, thought she was gonna kill me there.”
Roger ruffles your hair in response to your poor attempt at a British accent. The group of cast and crew around you chuckle at the gesture.
You had decided that if you were going to be forcibly dragged to this after-party by your bandmates, you would at least aim to make it worthwhile. A debut of your new mentality. One where you weren't just acting the part of a rising rock star, but living it.
Which is why at the moment, you found yourself the center of attention, surrounded by the cast and crew of SNL laughing along to your amusing story. But this was all hinged on you carefully, avoiding the presence of John Deacon at all costs. Which, in reality, wasn't very hard to do- you had yet to see him since arriving an hour ago.
“Oh my god, who was it?!” the young cast member beside you presses. You think her name is Julia, but the sheer amount of people you'd been introduced to was dizzying.
"That's exactly what we asked him when he told us. All he said was that it was some man with big lips who was in a fur coat and looked like he hadn't eaten in a month..."
The cam op across from you gasps, "It was MICK JAGGER? God bless your grandfather, I would've wept if she murdered him."
"So would my mom AND grandmother," you laugh. "Give us each a glass of wine, and it's basically a Mick fan club."
"Who else?" Brian taps your leg, surprisingly urging you to divulge more gossip.
You can't help but smirk as the group leans forward intently.
"Robin Williams?" you tease as their eyebrows all raise.
"Horrible tipper, but he makes up for it by performing dirty puppet shows with the napkins."
"Sounds about right," funnyman Brad Hall confirms, offering you another drink.
You politely decline, determined to keep your wits about you this evening. "I'm gonna go grab some water. Anyone want anything?"
The group shakes their heads, but Lawrence jumps up to join you on your trek to the crowded bar.
"Wouldn't it be insane if this was us one day?" he exclaims as you weave your way through the mass of bodies littering the Capitol Grill.
You smile up at him, "Dream big, buddy."
"Oh, I intend to," he confirms you as you spot Eddie and Rich waving you over from a spot at the bar.
Rich promptly wraps his arm around your shoulders as you join them. He always had a stoic way of letting you know he saw through the cracks in your poorly constructed armor. Taking the role of a caring older brother, more so than your own.
"Have we lost Steve again?" Lawrence asks the group.
Eddie nods across the room. "He's exactly where you think he'd be," he scoffs as you catch a glimpse of Steve, trailing Freddie like a lost puppy.
"Um, excuse me?" a short girl mumbles from behind Eddies' denim-clad shoulder. He turns, glancing down.
"Hiya," he regards her casually, causing her a deep blush to creep across her cheeks. She shoves a napkin and pen at him.
"C-could I get an autograph? Please?"
Eddie smirks at her flustered appearance, making sure to brush her fingers as he grabs the items out of her trembling hand.
"And what beautiful name should I be making this out to?"
She lets out a jarring high pitched giggle as she stumbles over her words. "Oh, uh, Shelley."
"Well, here ya go, Shelley," he hands the napkin back to her, now adorned with his messy scrawl. "Maybe I'll see you later."
She squeaks as she hurries back to her shrieking friends who are huddled conspicuously off to the side.
"Gross," you state. "She's a child. Probably one of the executive's kids."
He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Gotta keep em' interested, Bun. As the heartthrob of the group, it's my sworn duty."
"Slow your roll there, Rob Lowe," Rich interjects. "I think Y/N's giving you a run for your money in this dress."
You glance down at the Freddie approved ensemble. It was eye-catching for sure, precisely what you were going for. It's black suede straps crisscrossed strategically against your body, giving peaks of the skin underneath.
"It looks good, Bun," Rich assures you.
“Guys,” you all turn your attention to Steve, who has just joined the circle clumsily. His pupils are blown wide from his current blood alcohol content, and he sways slightly on his heels.
"I- I have something to say," he announces to the group, getting your attention. You all wait patiently as he hesitates, clearing his throat twice before lowering his voice. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m gay.”
You glance around to the other boys whose expressions mirror your own warm smile. You’d all known Steve was gay since high school, not that any of you had talked about it. You had just assumed it was something unspoken. That he’d tell you whenever he was ready or met someone good enough to introduce to you all.
Steve gapes at your expressions. "Where is the shock? I was expecting shock and awe, people!"
"Steve, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I’m assuming we’ve all known for a while," Rich says gently. You all nod lightly in agreement.
"How?"
"Do you remember the types of girls who used to throw themselves at you? Like Becky Whale? Man, I would’ve killed for Becky Whale to throw something at me. But you never took them up on it," Lawrence elaborates.
Steve smiles around at all of you, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
“I had a crush on Eddie in high school,” he confesses.
Eddie pumps his fist lightly. “Fuck yeah.”
“Oh, c’mon!” Lawrence exclaims. “You just had to boost that ego, didn’t ya? I know pretty boys are great and all, but I’m the one with the big soft cuddles. People love big soft cuddles!”
Rich expands his arms as he brings you all in for a hug.
You kiss Steve gently on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud,” you whisper.
"Thank you guys, I just felt like it was time. And now that that's out of the way," Steve grunts as you all untangle yourselves. “I’m gonna go find Freddie. He said he’s taking me out to a club after this!”
He skips away with a grin, back towards Freddie, who catches your eye with a knowing smile and winks. It seems you weren’t the only band member who had found a fairy godmother in Mr. Mercury.
You all lightly laugh affectionately at your friend until Eddie and Lawrence wander off to scope out the food situation. You lean against the bar next to Rich, glancing around at the loud laughter erupting from the outgoing crowd. One person noticeably sticks out. A sullen John Deacon sits at the end of the bar, hunched over what looks like a glass of whiskey.
"Looks like he's in need of a friend," Rich surmises.
You tear your eyes away from the sorry sight to look at him. "They're around here somewhere," you shrug.
He rubs your arms up and down lightly before slinking into the crowd, knowingly leaving you alone.
You sneak a peek over at John. He runs one hand through his curls as the other absentmindedly stirs the straw of his sweating drink. You watch him sigh, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the spirit without so much as a wince.
Hesitantly making your way over to him, you rub your clammy hands over the expensive material of your dress. This is the opposite of avoidance, you scold yourself, silently willing your feet to change direction. But your willpower has seemingly left the building.
You carefully perch yourself on the stool next to his, as not to disturb his brooding. He glances over quickly, doing a double-take when he realizes who it is.
"Oh, hello there," he greets you with a small smile. "I didn't know you had arrived."
You nod your head lightly. "How could you? It seems you set up camp over here."
"Ah, yes," he breathes, straightening his posture. "Wasn't our best tonight, I'm afraid. Not much to celebrate."
You take a sip of your water as you continue to nod silently.
"Actually," he begins, angling his body towards yours, almost slipping off his stool as you notice his apparent intoxication. "I was thinking about that conversation we had. When I met your spritely grandfather."
"Oh?" you question. Keeping your face neutral even though your heart was already buzzing at the fact.
"Yes. Mostly about how naive I was—all that bloody nonsense about finding a home. Do me a favor and never take my advice, will you? You'll end up completely wrecking yours."
This was a bad idea.
"It's just- you draw these lines for yourself in the sand," he drawls, waving his hands about in front of him. "A stupid phrase, really. Where did it even come from?"
"The Bible," you tell him quietly.
He lets out a big sigh, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.
"Well, it's gotten it wrong before, hasn't it?"
You simply hum an acknowledgment, too scared to probe for fear of where this was going.
"Anyway, you draw these lines. Moral, physical, promises you make to yourself, things you swear you’d never do, dreams to accomplish," he lists out. "But sand moves about, dunnit? It blows all over the place. Makes a mess. Gets in your sandwich. And those lines blur. Or fade away. And all of a sudden, you've crossed them without even knowing! Broken those promises. Skipped right over those dreams."
He's too far gone in his rant to register the growing panic sweeping across your features.
"You were right. Sometimes you look in the mirror, and it's just a complete stranger staring back at you, isn't it?"
Trying to keep your breathing steady, you stare at the crumbling man before you. He runs his large hands along his face before ducking back into his former position, signaling for the bartender to bring him another drink.
This is precisely why you should've stuck to your original plan. What were you supposed to say to the man who was so obviously hurting from his failed marriage? So much so that it was pouring out of him. You know that if it weren't for the alcohol, he wouldn't be confiding any of this to you.
But there was a reason the boys called you the mom of the group, and it wasn't because you were the only female. You feel a pang of need to comfort him. You gaze at him, not with pity, but an overwhelming sense of empathy for the man and make up your mind.
You clear your throat to answer, brushing away your own warnings about how it would only sink you deeper into your fascination with him.
"I was wrong, actually," you start as he brings his head up to look at you. "And you know what phrase I hate? That people don't change."
He furrows his brow but remains silent as you continue.
"Maybe we're not made up of lines in the sand. Maybe we're the wind?" You try not to cringe at yourself and your poor use of metaphor. "And winds sometimes blow in different directions... but that's okay because it's where life is supposed to take them." Falling silent, you decide to quit while you’re ahead.
You're not ahead. You're not even out of the gate. What the fuck was that?
A slow smile inches onto his face as he holds your stare. "How did you get so wise for someone your age," he teases.
"And what age would that be?"
His mouth opens and closes as he studies your face. "Twenty?"
"Mm, close. Twenty-four."
"Really?" he ponders. "Freddie mentioned you dropped out of university."
"Ah, yes. The university I could only go to after working to afford it," you explain.
He continues to stare, the look in his eyes shifting slightly as he takes you in. A look that matches the color and intensity of uncharted, open water. You need to get out of here.
"Well, that explains your extraordinary use of analogy then."
Dragging your eyes off of his, you glance around at the party you were missing. Gladly missing, unfortunately.
"I should go check on Steve. He's having a bit of a night," you tell him as you stand. "Try not to drown yourself in those," gesturing to the new glass of whiskey in front of him.
"How can I drown myself? I thought I was the wind," he points out with a grin.
Before any more banter can ensue, you simply smile and make your way back to your friends. Thinking to yourself that maybe lines in the sand weren't so bad. And that perhaps it was time for you to start drawing some of your own.
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April 2020 Angel Fish Awards
(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)
Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.
The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.
NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.
**Also, due to the number of afas and multiple nominations, each person on this list will only be tagged once. Please be sure to read the entire post so you don’t miss multiple nominations/comments!**
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE APRIL’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!
Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Slow (oneshot) by @sunlightdances
Intimacy is sooooo sexy xox
Nominated by @manawhaat
Ritual (oneshot) by @winchester-fantasies
This fic is grounded, subtle, realistic, and has an incredible energy between Dean and the reader! There’s so many little things that play into the bigger picture to make this really flow and work seamlessly as a whole!
Temporary Scars (series) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Fucking hell. Dean x Donna x Benny is such a rare pair that it’s NOT something I knew I needed, but everything about this dynamic is fucking perfect. It’s a bit of an AU, but I still love the way each character was represented. What they all brought to the table and how they balanced each other out in exactly the ways they needed. There’s a dynamic here that I haven’t seen before, especially not with THESE characters, and they complement each other fucking GORGEOUSLY!
Boyking fic (oneshot) by @whispersandwhiskerburn
This shit is fucking CRAFTY! There’s a lot of little things that carry through this and the way that ‘control’ is presented in each scene of this fic is very cool.
Calm (series) by @winchesterswoonathon
Oof! This John series just totally fucks me up. It’s perfect in the way you swoon over him and yearn to see a side of him he so rarely shows others. Maggie definitely knows how to nail the pining for John angle!
Dream Drabble (oneshot) by @theychosefamily
Sam’s comfort and sincerity in this kill me! It may have been inspired by a dream, but this tracks so well for each of them and could definitely be a scene plucked from the show!
The Unexpected (oneshot) by @impalaimagining
Goddamn this is sexy as all hell! It’s intense and passionate and scary and dazzlingly wonderful!
Nominated by @flamencodiva
Three’s A Crowd (series) by @1000roughdrafts
So I was browsing Kay’s Masterlist and came upon this very lovely Gem! I would love to see what happens next and I know Kay is extremely busy, but she is a talented writer and I wanted to put this lovely work out there. It is a wonderful concept and I can’t wait to see what happens!
Just Me & My Baby (oneshot) by @deanwinchesterswitch
A good way to rot your teeth with Dean fluff. This story pulls on your heartstrings and can be just what you need when you feel down.
The Pact (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer
This is an amazing AU Sam Fic! It is well written and traps you into the fantasy world from the very beginning. I can’t wait to see the roller coaster that is this story as it is beginning to unfold!
Nominated by @deanwanddamons
The Sullivan Series (series) by @katehuntington
I binge read this series and adore it. Zoe is such a badass and an awesome OFC.
It is so good it could easily be written as a series of SPN and I am really hoping it is continued as I can’t wait for the next series. Kate is such an awesome person, hugely supportive and a big influence on me as a writer. This series deserves so much more recognition.
Ride With Me (seires) by @katehuntington
This series is divine. I am so invested in this right now. The way Kate writes is a true inspiration to me and this AU is stunning. Her story telling and descriptions are totally immersive and I am so excited to see where she takes us on this journey.
He’s Not You (series) by @mummybear
This series is awesome! It’s really building momentum and I’m loving where it’s going. Such a great idea for a story and can’t wait to see where Chelsea takes us!
The Man on the Side of the Road (series) by @supernatural-jackles
This series was beautiful. I was so invested in this and so sad when it came it an end. It was very cathartic for me to read as I related to the reader so much.
Shatter Me (series) by @winchest09
This series is incredible. Such a superb concept and I love the way it has been written. The feeling of isolation and Dean’s desperation to save her had me engrossed all the way through. A must read.
D.W. (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage
I have recently ventured into dark fic and was recommended this.
Demon!Dean is just 🔥 and this fic is dark, sexy and very explicit. And holy shit I LOVED IT!
Nominated by @moosekateer13
House of the Rising Sun (series) by @kittenofdoomage
What I really loved about it shows the love can change your whole perspective of the world when love is thrown into the mix.
The Ones You Love (series) by @kittenofdoomage
It shows how far the Winchester's are willing go when it comes to their family.
Cosa Nostra (series) by @kittenofdoomage
Loved how in the end love and their bond was stronger than an obstacles that were thrown in their way.
Paid In Full (series) by @kittenofdoomage
Loved it! It taught you look past what you see at first.
Poor Little Rich Girl (series) by @winchesterprincessbride
Love how it showed the money is isn't everything love is more important.
Political Animals (series) by @winchesterprincessbride
Loved the sometimes it showed the its better to break away from people who are trying to control your life.
Bed of Roses (series) by @crispychrissy
Loved how it to taught you to look past first impressions and that there is always more than meets the eye.
Nominated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters
Control and Release - 30 (series) by @thecleverdame
I think I might’ve nominated this series before, when I wasn’t caught up yet, but I am now and I just have to recommend this chapter. The entire story is gold but this chapter in particular had me sucked right into the scene at the end. The intensity of the fight and the way they deal with everything that is going on; the emotions, the worlds outside of their little bubble of safety. I don’t want to say too much and spoil it for whoever hasn’t read this series yet. But, if you are one of those people, I highly recommend you change that ASAP.
The Secrets We Keep (series) by @princessmisery666
Better late than never, right? At least that’s what I’m telling myself to ease the guilt I’m feeling for how long it took me to finally read this series like I said I would. I didn’t enjoy it any less, that’s for sure. And that was even before I got to the twist that made it even better. I loved the vulnerability between Sam and Erin, and the different kind of friendship she had with Dean.
Cabin Fever (long oneshot) by @slytherkins
I’ve already attempted (and failed) to express my thoughts on this story to the author privately, so I won’t try again here, in risk of my heart shattering all over again. But what I definitely will say (and I will break into my upstairs neighbor’s apartment to scream it from their balcony if I have to) is this: STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING and go read this fic if you haven’t already. It’s a heavy read, yes. But it is more than worth it, I promise you.
Equanimous (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill
I love the tension in this scene. The boys are so in character and I could picture the demons perfectly. And, of course, Cas storming in, being badass, and saving the day, that’s always a plus.
Non-existent (oneshot) by @waywardjoy
I’m definitely a sucker for a good crack-fic. To be honest, when I read the summary I was already sold. That signature bickering between the boys never gets old, does it?
Nominated by @impalaimagining
Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons
Physically speaking, on the list of things I love about Dean Winchester, this checks almost every single box. I love the little things you’re noticing about Dean as the reader - his freckles, the contrast between his skin and the black shirt he’s wearing, exactly which Zeppelin song he’s singing while he works. The teasing is a nice touch too, especially the line about the night before. Proud Dean is so cute, and it’s exactly how I would expect him to react to being the hero around the house.
Nominated by @impala-dreamer
Almost Paradise (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches
Amanda always always writes the fluff so well, but this little bit of bittersweet longing is delicious. Also, she nails Dean EVERY TIME. One of those writers who just gets Dean’s voice down so perfectly. Very Very well done!
Enough Time (oneshot) by @dissect-me
I was just scrolling the pond list and found this wonderful Destiel fic. I mean… the emotions were intense and I was a mess by the end. Just lovely and so well done. I will be diving back through their masterlist for more Destiel!!
Nominated by @kittenofdoomage
Life For Rent (series) by @winchest09
@katehuntington told me to go read this so I did and I do not regret it. An amazingly sexy (and at times, heartbreaking) series, not for the faint of heart. Totally waiting on edge for the next chapter.
Call Of The Ocean (series) by @flamencodiva and @anatheweirdo
I’m fairly certain I’ve nominated this before but it’s so good, I’m gonna nominate it again. You will absolutely become invested in Thasman’s well-being.
Nominated by @fangirlxwritesx67
Communion (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
But Dean’s natural state is this – nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm. He speaks softly and quietly. His voice isn’t always rough and hard.
He sings.
MY FEELS. This is beautiful and heart-wrenching all at once.
Sex with Dean is always really good. A lot of times it’s a rushed, life-affirming kind of thing. So when we have time, every touch is at once charged and grounded. And when we have time and are also able to imbibe? It’s metamorphic.
All of this, just one perfect line after another. WOW
Just to be his in our own little bubble.
And this, this is exactly how this story feels- so close and heavy and perfect Amazing work,.Like, really astounding.
Synesthesia (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock
Lou took this prompt and did something wildly creative! It’s so well done that the reader can see and feel and taste it.
Wild Thing (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock
I am in love with the Everything series so, so much. Lou has done a beautiful job of building a world with J2 x reader, so loving and creative and hot. This one is, for sure, a favorite! Incorporates one of my favorite quotes into a smoking hot fic. Good work!!
Dear Mr. Fantasy (oneshot) by @itmighthavebeenintentional
But there’s one particular Other Dean, a favorite one his mind drifts to during rare peaceful moments. Daydreaming when he should be researching, drifting off when a particular song plays on the radio while he’s working on Baby, even washing his hands sometimes will pull him back to those dreams.
6 paragraphs in, and I knew Val was going to break my heart. This is a gorgeous gorgeous story! Creative premise, great characterization, and written so that you can see and taste and feel every moment.
I found myself wanting to both read faster, and slow down and savor it. And yes, it broke my heart, but so beautifully that I would let it happen over and over again.
Weight (oneshot) by @67midnightwriter
This one is short and both painful and beautiful. So very heavy with experience and meaning. An excellent example of the ways that our favorite characters can help inspire us, lift us and encourage us to keep going
The Second Hand Unwinds (oneshot) by @mskathywriteswords
Kathy is new-ish to the SPN family but not to either writing or fandom, and it is immediately apparent in her first piece of SPN fanfic. Her creative storyline, her grasp of the characters, and her way with words make it immediately apparent that you are reading the work of a master!
Salvation (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence
This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!
There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left. These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar. The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.
What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose? This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam! It’s easy to forget sometimes what a fearsome hunter he is, but this author reminds us with razor sharp clarity.
“You’re safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me.“
Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It’s no wonder he’s fighting so hard to save her.
This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action and some sweet hotness! Plus the author does such a good job with Sam, I’m in love with him all over again. I haven’t read this author much before but you’d better believe I won’t miss a story now!
Casual Affair (oneshot) by @fookinghelljensensthighs
This Dean x Benny fic is short, smoking hot and painfully good. A must read!
Nominated by @mariekoukie6661
The Force of Habit (series) by @littlegreenplasticsoldier
I read that series at least 3 times now. I love this story, its witty and funny. This fic just makes me smile without trying! Even after reading 3 times, I still thoroughly enjoyed it like it was the first time.
Satisfied (series) by @crashdevlin
This is so good, the emotion that this series makes me feel is just out of this world!
Dangerous Signs (series) by @kittenofdoomage
Rhi always has brilliant idea!!! This is one of those and I just can’t get enough of her writing.
Control and Release (series) by @thecleverdame
What start as mostly just porn turned into such a great series with twist and turns!
Hunger (oneshot0 by @impala-dreamer
Oof… what to say about this? it’s Beka! It’s hot and sweaty and makes me want more! Like everything she writes!
Nominated by @myinconnelly1
Couldn’t Resist (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer
This is fun, funny, and sexy. Short sweet and to the point, while still getting you hot under the collar!!!
Dark Obsession (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer
Where do I even start in this drabble! It's so fucking cute and funny! I was laughing out loud and could totally see TFW trying to play their parts here
Promise Me We’ll Be Alright (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer
What a pain in the heart this fic was. It hurt so good!! I was ready to cry
Say My Name (oneshot) by @idabbleincrazy
Smoking hot! While in general Baby-girl is a turn off for me, this fic is so far from it! funny at the start with some cracky dean who is caught in the middle, then getting some possessive Sam which is like my fav!
I’ll See You on Your Birthday (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87
SOOO MUCH FLUFF!!! Like seriously i needed a dentist after. Some cute ABO pregnancy right here!
Just A Number (oneshot) by @crispychrissy
Again Sexy and Funny (I have a type ok) This was a great use of Age Gap and it wasn't creepy and didn't need a little blue pill at all!
Happily Ever After (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence
HAPPILY EVER AFTER! It's all i need to say!!!! Read It!
Missing Person (oneshot) by @emilyshurley
This fic is by my favoritest human in the world!!! It’s hilarious and silly but also almost canon. Plus I make a cameo as Garth’s friend!!! What’s not to love!!!
Nominated by @lovetusk
The Only Exception (series) by @ne-gans & @negans-lucille-tblr
While only the prequel so far, I’m too hyped for this beauty to NOT nominate it.
Survive (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage
I’m always here for some Alpha!Sam, but this one punched me right in the feels. How dare anyone keep him from his Omega.
He Wasn’t In Love With You (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87
Dawn doesn't angst often, but sometimes she does and I love it.
Nominated by @there-must-be-a-lock
Noises (oneshot) by @67midnightwriter
Just. HOT. Hot hot hot like burning. Dom!Cas playing Dean like a goddamn fiddle... what more can you ask for!?
Come For Me (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67
My favorite thing this author has published so far! There are a whole lot of emotions in this one, adrenaline and fear and relief and lust and tenderness, and you can feel the depth of everything going on between them and the chaos of the moment. Also, nailed the “oh shit where did this predatory hotass come from” feeling that I totally imagine would happen during a first time with Sammy.
Plus One (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
This is smutty and raunchy and HOT but it also manages to nail the sweet, loving side of Dean. Smut can so easily be one-dimensional, but this fic managed to be both filthy and tender in a way that feels 150% true to character.
Dear Mr. Fantasy (oneshot) by @itmighthavebeenintentional
An absolutely stunning exploration of some parallel universe Deans. Gorgeously vivid language, such incredible character accuracy, borderline heartbreaking but in a way that isn’t hopeless; it makes you feel FULL. My favorite SPN fic I’ve read in a long time.
The Second Hand Unwinds (oneshot) by @mskathywriteswords
Incredibly evocative, gorgeous wistful tone, and a couple little plot twists that hit you with all the right feels.
Nominated by @winchest09
All I Want (series) by @katehuntington
I love this, so much. I love the take on this particular episode and how in fact it brings back the reader instead of *spoiler*. It’s still ongoing and it’s already tugging on heartstrings and has made me cry so if you read this, grab your tissues!
Ride With Me (series) by @katehuntington
This series has my heart. Like this could be a published book that i would read cover to cover, over and over. The spine would be broken, pages glued in because i would have read it that much. How everything is described, how the world is painted, the characters, the setting…just everything. It’s a must read..A MUST READ.
I Just Called to Say I Love You (series) by @talesmaniac89
This broke my heart. This was so beautifully written to the point i was sobbing behind my screen mumbling incoherent words to my husband before talking to a few other tumblr blogs about it. If you read this, have tissues handy. Dean was so in character and my heart will never be the same. Must read.
The Man In Apartment 43 (series) by @talesmaniac89
This series has me so intrigued! It’s written amazingly, has me gasping, has me seriously flinching at some of the creepy goings on and I cannot wait to see where this goes! It’s an ongoing series and I’m loving it!
Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons
This lovely little drabble satisfies all my domestic dean needs. Covering his fine ass, arms and back. I mean…Come on! It’s just everything that you need in a bite size package. I absolutely loved it!
Nominated by @katehuntington
One For Tomorrow, One Just For Today (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Sex with Dean is always amazing, but there’s nothing hotter than him singing a classic while he’s doing it. After reading this, that famous song by The Doors will never sound the same. Sit back, relax and listen to the music.
Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons
Dean fixing a blocked drain under the kitchen sink in a black shirt and Levi’s jeans; what a sight that must be. The writer of this fic is able to describe the scene in great detail. Besides the obvious appreciation of the gorgeous man, it’s great to see him doing something normal and domesticated. It’s the life we all wish for him. A great little drabble for a Sunday morning with a cup of tea on the side.
You’re Home (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer
A drabble that’s absolutely worth mentioning, is this short story. Beka does Dean’s PTSD more justice in 682 words than the writers have ever done on the entire show. A beautiful piece of art.
Imagine Dean debating asking you out (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats
Dean has a crush on a girl, Sam is calling him out. When his little brother threatens to expose his secret, Dean tries to silence him, and it’s honestly the funniest read I’ve had this month. Writing comedy isn’t easy, but this was flawless.
I Just Called To Say I Love You (oneshot) @talesmaniac89
This one hurts bad, but in the most wonderful way. It’s exactly how Dean would go down, the characterisation beyond perfect. The descriptions, the dialogue, the details, the choices. It’s a Rembrandt painted with letters.
Side By Side (series) by @talesmaniac89
Another brilliant creation, based on the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. A song which surfaces a lot of emotions, much like this poetic and amazing piece of fanfiction. Words that come to mind are heart wrenching, tear jerking, and in a way comforting as well. A must read.
The Voices (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss
Based on ‘I hear the voices when I’m dreaming. I can hear them sing’ from the Supernatural anthem Carry On My Wayward Son, comes this breathtakingly beautiful piece of fanfiction. Perfect lines, spot on dialogue and it couldn’t have been more true to the character. It’s painfully raw, sad, and tears will fall. It makes you feel for Dean in ways that are difficult to describe. The writer of this story is known for her talent with words, but she outdid herself here.
Nicotine (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89
This story is inspired by the song Nicotine by Chef’Special and was written for my 1K celebration. The lyrics to this song are surprisingly depressing, despite it being an upbeat song, and the writer has captured it better than I could have ever hoped for. If her writing was music, it would be a symphony played by an orchestra. Her way with words is melodic and moving. Goosebumps all over.
My Hero (oneshot) by @plaidstiel-wormstache
What I love most about this fanfic is the medical accuracy. I am no expert in any way, but after seeing countless medical dramas and having done plenty of research for characters and stories, I really appreciate it when knowledge about medicine practically drips from my screen. A lovely read.
Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!
These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D
THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!
#afa masterlist#afas#angel fish awards#spn fanfic#spn fic rec#fan fiction#fanfiction#fan fic#fanfic#spn fan fiction#spn fanfiction#spn fan fic#supernatural fan fiction#supernatural fan fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#fic rec#supernatural fic rec
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A Comprehensive List of Stan and Kyle Moments (I UPD8 AS I GO)
A Comprehensive List of Stan and Kyle Moments (I UPD8 AS I GO)
Hello. Yes, you heard me. Here are all the scenes that legit scream out “STYLE” in South Park, whether these scenes are too far of a reach or not. I mostly compiled this out of my very own convenience, and hopefully this’ll help you a whole lot too. This is extremely text heavy, so I’ll put this under “Read More”. I haven’t played any of the games, so I won’t be including it here at this time, so if you guys know any good moments from the games, please let me know and I’ll add it to the list.
Cherokee Hair Tampons:
- The entire goshdarn episode.
- Stan being concerned and distraught over a dying Kyle breaks my heart. He was even bawling next to Kenny.
- Stan willing to donate his kidney to Kyle, even if it’d hurt a lot.
- Stan knowing that Kyle ate a bean and bacon soup half an hour ago shows that he’s been by Kyle’s side for quite some time now.
- Stan holding onto Kyle while they were at Cartman’s house.
- “Dude, you’re my best friend. I don’t want you to die before I do...”
Super Best Friends:
- Yeah, um, this episode...is gay.
- Stan and Kyle entering the episode with ice cream cones while Butters and Cartman wondering where they got them from. It’s assumed Stan and Kyle were hanging out with each other off-screen.
- I think Kyle being convinced that he’s not “really happy” through brainwashing is parallel to Stan being convinced that he’s “depressed” by the Church of Scientology.
- Stan trying to help Kyle escape with him, not even mentioning this plan to Kenny, Cartman or even Butters.
- Stan and Kyle looking at each other with longing looks while dramatic music plays in the background. Ah yes. I am...not even joking...this legit happened.
- How to Find Your Boyfriend 101: “OH MY GOD! THEY KILLED KENNY!!” “Y-you bastards...”
- Stan pleading Kyle not to kill himself and to hold his breath while being there for him.
- The ending where they call each other Super Best Friends and both proceed to beat up Cartman when he teased that they should make out.
Cartmanland:
- Stan comforting a distraught Kyle.
- @belovedhomosexuals mentioned that canonically, Stan helps Kyle with his hemorrhoid cream, and IM-
- Stan doing everything he can to get back at Cartman for Kyle’s sake.
- Stan demanding the doctor to wheel Kyle out to see Cartman in misery.
Asspen:
- “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HEATHER!!” >:(
- Kyle not wanting Stan to do the K-13. He doesn’t want him to die.
- Kyle holds a polaroid photo of the both of them. How cute. Does he bring it with him wherever he goes?
The Biggest Douche In The Universe:
- Stan not wanting to go back to Colorado without Kyle and does all he can to convince him that John Edward is a fraud.
Follow That Egg:
- They are dads.
- They take care of their egg really well.
- “As a matter of fact, it is the nicest hat I’ve ever known”
- They’re the reasons gays could get married.
- Stan getting jealous of Kyle being paired up with Wendy. It does seem like a reach I have to admit, but if you’re a Stylendy fan, then this one’s for you.
Return of Chef
- The iconic beginning “flashback” where they both look at the sunset together.
Smug Alert:
- Stan and Kyle meeting in the parking lot in the beginning when Kyle was helping his dad give fake tickets.
- Kyle being moved away from South Park has Stan write a song to get Kyle and his family to come back.
- The cute hug in the end.
Fantastic Easter Special
- Stan, out of breath, asks Kyle for help in protecting Snowball
- Kyle helping him out anyways even though he was busy with fingerprinting.
- Cinematic parallels of Kyle killing Jesus and Stan killing that alien in Pinewood Derby.
Imaginationland Trilogy
- Kyle calling Stan in the morning regarding the “dream.”
- Stan and Kyle, unsure of the notes, both trying to recall the Imagination song. It was cute.
- Stan being distraught when ManBearPig got a hold on Kyle. (I swear, I’ve used the word “distraught” for over 1948388 times now)
- Kyle communicating through Stan telepathically with his Imagination.
Guiltar Queer O
- The whole episode.
- “I know...I need you.”
- The whole episode was literally as if they went through a break up.
- They’re both in sync when playing, right up to their tongues up.
- “Oh, so the gallant knight now comes to rescue me from the bowels of mediocrity! Oh, thank you, your royal lordship!” (Foreshadowing for SOT?)
- Stan thinking of Kyle as he’s “driving”.
The List:
- Stan doing all he can to prove that Kyle is a handsome mf. Another episode that screams Stylendy rights.
You Got F’d in the A:
- Kyle being so happy to see Stan dancing back to the Orange County kids.
- It’s canon that Stan can dance well while Kyle doesn’t have rhythm whatsoever. Wouldn’t it be a cute idea for Stan to teach Kyle how to dance?
You Have 0 Friends
- Kyle pleading Stan to water his crops.
- A short detail but if you noticed when Kyle announced that they made an FB account for Stan, he only added himself as Stan’s friend. This means that Kyle legit “friended” himself in Stan’s profile and didn’t bother to add Kenny or Cartman to Stan’s friend list.
- “Yes. WE’RE REALLY GREAT FRIENDS STAN!!” :D
You’re Getting Old:
- Oof. Yeah....
- Stan obviously loves Kyle a whole lot, but him seeing Kyle slowly turn into a turd probably did break his heart little by little. And when I mean by probably, I mean massively.
- Kyle shouldn’t exactly be demonized for not being able to handle Stan’s cynicism. Because I think it’s ok to admit you can’t handle such emotional drainage even if coming from your SBF, but do mind that him leaving Stan was most likely NOT easy for him. It’s kinda sad that they’ve slowly drifted away since then. BUT NO I REFUSE TO LET THAT HAPPEN ;-;
Assburgers:
- “Fuck you Kyle! You’re a piece of shit...Kyle, I love you. You’re a piece if shit though, fuck you...! I love you...”
- Stan immediately going back to Kyle when he’s feeling “better”
- That McDonalds Exec. literally narrating Stan and Kyle’s current rocky relationship and not believing every second of if.
A Nightmare on Facetime:
- “WILL SOMEONE GET ME A CHARGER OVER HERE!!’
- Kyle bringing and guiding Stan through the iPad.
Ginger Cow:
- Jokes aside, when Stan was asking Kyle about Cartman’s farts, he was really sweet and understanding to him. He genuinely wants to understand why Kyle likes Cartman’s farts so much and knew something was up by the way Kyle was hiding things.
- I also like how he was not afraid to call Kyle a dick. I think a good level of transparency is needed in a healthy relationship. That’s just how they roll.
- Stan helping Kyle cover up in the end....though it did backfire.
Black Friday Trilogy:
- “DID KYLE KNOW ABOUT THIS?!” “Kyle thought of it.” ;-;
- Stan being grounded and Kyle apologizing at the other side of the door was peak gay angst level.
- “That’s just how Xbox people are...” D:
- Ok now for something sweet. In the deleted scene, Stan was showing Kyle how the playstation controller works and...wow.......what cute babies.
Prehistoric Ice Man:
- “Oh my god! They killed Kenny!!” *looks at Kyle* “What? I’m not talking to you anymore.”
- Them fighting and arguing was so adorable. Their voices were so squeaky and cute in this episode.
- “First one to die loses.” SOGKEKGKRI WHAT MORONS
- Stan and Kyle kind of awkwardly trying to start the fight reminds me of Tweek vs Craig.
Mexican Joker:
- Stan angrily sending Cartman to the detention center after hearing about him sending Kyle there.
Band in China:
- “kyyyyyyYYYYYLEEEE :D DUDE YOU’RE BACK!!”
- Stan making a death metal band because a.) He hates living in the farm and b.) He misses Kyle so hard.
Britney’s New Look:
- Another Stan and Kyle episode where they both realized how so far in the wrong they’re in, and they desperately want to fix it.
- Stan and Kyle giving up in the end and joining in the chant.
The Death of Eric Cartman:
- Stan offering Kyle money so he could buy milk for lunch.
Two Guys Naked In A Hot Tub:
- “You can't just hang out with your buddy Kyle all the time. People will think you guys are, you know, funny.”
- When Kyle walks over in the end, Stan proceeds to complain to him how he had the worst night and they both go to Kyle’s house to hang.
The China Probrem
- In the beginning, Stan telling Kyle to refute Cartman’s racist sayings and got overly concerned when Kyle said he couldn’t do this anymore.
- Stan going in Kyle’s room to talk about moving on from what they’ve witnessed.
- Stan holding Kyle’s hand to run away in Kyle’s dream. Kyle waking up and crying when Stan wasn’t around to comfort him.
- Stan and Kyle crying in each other’s arms and telling each other “I love you”.
- Small detail but when they were leaving the attorney’s office and the attorney and the kids were crying altogether, Stan put a hand on Kyle to comfort him as they were crying.
The Mystery of the Urinal Deuce:
- Stan appearing in Kyle’s living room suddenly.
- “Well dude, maybe we're just super badass. Have you thought of that?” Yeah I know Stan was trying to cover up what he just did by saying that but still.
Cartman Gets An Anal Probe:
- Stan helping Kyle save Ike.
- “Hahaha you farted.” WHAT GROSS DORKS
- Kyle telling a speech to the aliens and Stan remarking how beautiful it was.
A Very Crappy Christmas:
- Kyle calling Stan in the middle of the night to get the guys, and Stan answering all sleepily is so adorable.
- Stan and Kyle voice acting together.
- Stan and Kyle doing the stopmotion animation together.
- Stan and Kyle laughing when they had Stan voice act Cartman to say the “ham” line.
Fun With Veal:
- Kyle taking care of a sickly Stan despite being a bit of a germaphobe.
The Snuke:
- Stan coming over to a sick Kyle’s house immediately after school has been suspended.
Crack Baby Athletic Association:
- Stan not being afraid to call out on Kyle.
- Kyle snuck into Stan’s room and Stan was listening to him unfazed.
Quintuplets 2000:
- Them trying to do gymnastics.
Pee:
- Kyle getting disgusted after hearing Stan talk about how it’s normal for people to pee in pools and in the shower.
Butterballs:
- Kyle calling Stan out in the bathroom, and they have this long ass stare. Kyle knowing that Stan will be jackin it in San Diego.
Bike Parade:
- Stan making Kyle laugh.
Proper Condom Use
- Stan and Kyle playing with a Jennifer Lopez doll and roleplaying.
- “SCREAM FOR ME BITCH!” “AHHHHHHHHH”
- Stan and Kyle in the same car with their cute big heads protruding.
World War Zimmerman:
- Stan and Kyle playing football.
The Scoots:
- Once again, Stan and Kyle playing football.
City on the Edge of Forever:
- Stan saving Kyle in his dream.
- Stan and Kyle sitting a bit closer to each other than usual in Stan’s dream.
Grounded Vindaloop:
- The tetherball date.
- Stan and Kyle saying “fuck you” to Kenny.
Clubhouses:
- Stan reading Bebe’s note, and Kyle being unfazed about it later in the episode. It was never defined whether he was informed the note came from Bebe.
#REHASH:
- Stan and Kyle being called grandpas by the little kids.
Tegridy Farms:
- When one of Ike’s classmates blew smoke in front of Kyle, Stan got extremely defensive about it.
Raising the Bar:
- Stan informing Kyle that it isn’t cool to continue on with “Fatty Doo Doo”.
- Stan checking up on Kyle as he’s sitting alone and listening to him lament about how the bar has sunk so low because of people.
Go Fund Yourself:
- *looking at Kyle’s ass* Boy this is the life huh.
Truth and Advertising:
- Stan and Kyle fist fighting for real, and Tweek and Craig looking at them concerned since they rarely ever fight like this.
Conjoined Fetus Lady:
- Stan preparing to catch Kyle if ever he fails to catch the dodgeball.
Stanley’s Cup:
- THEIR YOUNGER SELVES PLAYING HOCKEY!
ManBearPig:
- Stan’s head on Kyle’s lap. It’s so beautifully rendered.
Board Girls:
- “Wow, you are really into board games.”
A Scause for Applause:
- Kyle confronts Stan about cutting the bracelet by saying Heidi Turner saw him with super glue.
The Death Camp of Tolerance:
- “KYLE! KYLE! YOU HAVE TO KEEP MAKING YOUR MACARONI PICTURES!!”
South Park Bigger, Longer and Uncut:
- Stan getting jealous that even Kyle is amazed at Gregory.
Cartman Join NAMBLA:
- Stan and Kyle putting their face against the glass.
Mr. Hankey’s Christmas Classics:
- Stan and Kyle making fun of Shelly behind her back.
Raisins:
- Kyle coming to visit Stan with the gang after the whole breakup.
- Kyle wanting Stan to be happy again by bringing him to Raisins.
- Kyle being annoyed over Stan being distraught over Wendy. Jealous?
Mr. Jefferson:
- When Stan hears a knock on his window, he assumes it’s Kyle.
- Stan and Kyle being good caretakers of Blanket.
- Stan and Kyle sleeping with Blanket.
#hachichitext#hachichiposts#long post#south park#sp#text#sp style#sp stanky#style#stankyl#kyan#sp kyan#stan x kyle#stanxkyle#stanky#sp stankyl#stankyle#stan marsh#kyle broflovski#hachichishippinglogs#<---- this is the tag i'll use when compiling shipping moments
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King of Hearts (pt. 1)
A/n: ok big oof big oof big oof I’ve just started this series and get ready folks it’s gonna be a real long one and a real steamy one and i’m excited to continue it
Word Count: 3962
Warnings: Escort Jin. A little smut (fingering). Swearing. It will only get worse from here. This is the tame part.
Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone... so you hire an escort... his name is Jin
Staring anxiously at the phone before you, you tapped your fingers on your desk and tried to decide.
This was not the greatest idea you’d ever had. But it couldn’t be that bad, right? You’re not that pathetic … right? This is a thing people do… right? And nobody would ever know… right?
You sigh and bury your face in your hands.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid book party. Stupid publisher’s meeting. Stupid erotica writer with no stupid date.
Of course, you could always show up alone, but that would spark questions.
A wonderful writer like you with no date? What a shame. So pretty too. How are you getting your inspiration? Are you between boyfriends? Do you have many one night stands?
Questions you didn’t want to deal with. How do you tell your sponsors and publishers and everyone who worked on making your books boom that you haven’t been on a date in over three years? Haven’t had sex in just as long? That your sex life was so dry even the desert probably pitied you?
You stared at the website open in front of you and moved your hand over your cell phone. It’s just one night. And for totally innocent reasons. You typed in the number, put it on speaker, and waited.
The phone clicked and a friendly woman’s voice purred through the speaker:
“Heart Escort Services, this is Cindy, how may I help you today?”
You swallowed. Of course her voice sounded like sex. Just like her trade.
Quiet, you don’t know anything about her. Don’t judge. You’re the one calling the line.
“Hello? Is anyone there? I swear to god Jeremy if this is you I’m going to report you to security because you can’t keep calling to listen to my voice and jerk off you mother-”
“Um, hello.” You stammer, and the lady on the other end goes quiet for a moment.
“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. Thank you for calling Heart Escort Services, how can I help you?”
You fiddle with the string of your hoodie and bite your lip. “Do you have male escorts?”
“We sure do! Do you have any specifics?”
You laugh nervously. “Someone handsome?”
She laughs lightly. “Honey, all our men are handsome. We are a highly sought after escort service. Not just anyone can be an escort.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You can feel yourself blushing furiously even though you knew it was just a phone call. You bury your face in your hands.
Lord God please, smite me from above.
Honestly, you didn’t care who your date was. You could always tell your publisher at the next event that it ended up being a short term fling.
“Um, do you have anyone available on March 23? I just need someone to um… escort… me to an event? It’s from 7-10pm.”
You cringe. Did I really just say ‘escort me to an event’ to an escort service? Smooth.
Cindy hums on the other end of the phone and you hear flipping – probably some sort of planner for the escort’s events.
“Alright, we have three men available on the day you requested at the time. Would you like me to give you their names and descriptions?”
You don’t want to choose. You just want a date. “Um… no… I’m not too picky.”
Cindy chortles. “That’s a first. No really, honey I’m going to need more than that. You’re paying for the service right? Then it’s okay to be picky.”
Oh, well when she puts it like that…
“Uh, what or sorry, which? Of the three is the most sociable? It’s a really social night and I need them to be able to hold their own in a room full of strangers if that’s okay? And um, younger? I’m only 24…”
You hear more clicking and humming from Cindy as she decides. “Okay, hun. I have a 26-year-old Korean man named Jin. He’s honestly one of the more talkative escorts that we have. I’m sure he would do great at your event. Just so you know, if you want him the entire night it will cost extra..”
“No!” you almost shout, then quickly backpedal. “I mean, no. No, sorry I don’t want him for the entire night. Just 7-10.”
“Alright, 7-10 it is then. Where should he meet you?”
You thought for a second. You were going to need to walk in with him. The event was at the Cedar Valley Hotel ballroom on 2nd.
“Can he meet me at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd Street?” It was down the street from the hotel, at the end of the block. They could walk up and in together.
You heard some more typing and pencil scribbling before Cindy spoke again. “Jin will meet you at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd on March 23 at 6:45 pm. He will be wearing a black suit and a red tie. Please remember that we only take cash, and you will pay him for his time.” You nod and quickly scramble over your desk for a sticky note and pen.
Jin. Black suit. Red tie. Christine’s. 6:45pm.
Cindy tells you his charge and you write it under the time with a note to make a trip to the bank, surprised at how high it is.
Of course he is dummy. He’s an escort. This place is high rank.
High, but not unreasonable you reasoned. You had the cash. He must be really good at what he does. But so were you.
“Thanks, Cindy. Anything else I should know?”
She laughs again on the other end of the line. “You should really have considered taking him for the night. You, missy, are missing out.”
You find yourself blushing furiously again and hang up. Pushing your hands through your hair and letting out a long breath.
You’re really doing this. You just hired an escort. You laughed to yourself and got out of your chair. If only your mother could see you now. Wouldn’t she be so proud?
You walk over to your closet and begin to flip through it. Black suit. Red tie. Black suit. Red Tie. What did you have that matched that?
~ three weeks later ~
You stepped out of your taxi and fidgeted with your dress, pulling the hem down. You hadn’t realized how much it had shrunk when you decided to risk throwing it into the washer instead of taking it to the dry cleaners, and now your originally knee-length black pencil dress came down only to mid-thigh. You checked yourself out in the reflective glass of the café.
Simply cut black pencil dress – classy with just a little bit of décolletage and leg on display.
3 1/2-inch heels – as high as you can go without falling while you walk.
Simple crystal earrings.
Loose low bun with just the right amount of face-framing.
Black and silver beaded clutch.
You walked into the café and headed to the bathroom.
Makeup on point. Just touch of the red lipstick – red to match his tie – and you’re good.
You step out of the bathroom, putting your lipstick in your purse and sit down at one of the tables by the window, glancing at the time.
6:37 pm. You’re early.
You sip a glass of water nervously, trying hard not to bite your fingernails.
Please be here. Please don’t be late. Please be at least cute.
You swirled the condensation left from your glass on the table with the tip of your finger and looked at your phone again.
6:39pm.
God, those three minutes seemed like an eternity.
At 6:45pm on the dot, the door of the café dings open and a tall, handsome man strides in. He has purpose in every step, and you can’t stop yourself from staring as he glances around the room, sees you, and turns on his heel coming your way, dropping into the seat opposite of you.
Damn. He’s hot. Like really hot. Stupid handsome hot in a suit and tie. Nobody looks that good in a suit. And shoulders. SHOULDERS. How the fuck –
“Are you y/n?” he asks casually, crossing his legs and looking at you with one eyebrow quirked.
“How-how did you know?” you stutter, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.
He leans forward and gives you a grin. “We’re the two best-dressed people in this establishment.”
You look around you and laugh. You definitely were. Two people in formalwear in a place that suggests jeans and sweaters.
“I guess the formal dress would give it away.” You smile at him and he grins back, putting you more at ease.
Stupid handsome guy has a nice smile. Of course he does. Shut up, y/n.
“I’m Jin.” He holds out his hand.
You shake it, trying to give him a warm smile and not look creepy or freaked out. “Y/n, but I see you already know that.”
“I hear we’re going to an event? What kind of event?”
You fold your hands in front of you to stop them from fidgeting. “I will tell you, but you can’t laugh.”
He leans forward even more, resting his face in his palm. “Ooo, this sounds interesting.”
“I’m serious.” You try to pull a serious face and he sits up and folds his hands in front of him too.
“Serious.”
You nod. “Okay. So this event, it’s a publisher’s dinner. Fancy thing. I’m an author, and it’s important. Help’s me keep in contact with my sponsors and donors and team who made my publishing’s possible.”
“What kind of books do you write?” he looks genuinely interested. You hesitate and decide to tell him a half-truth.
“Uh- romance. Romance novels. Real cheesy stuff.”
He nods and you can see him trying to hide his smile. You give him a side-eye. “Shut up.”
He works his jaw and takes a deep breath. Trying to hold his laughter. “I’m not laughing.”
“Yeah, but you want to. I can see it.”
He smiles then, a big one this time. “Hey wait you’re the one who just referred to her own works as, and I quote, ‘real cheesy stuff.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers and you laugh.
“That’s because it is!”
“If you think it’s cheesy, why do you write it?”
You look back down at the table with a smile and swirl the water on your table in a squiggly line. “Because people like cheese, it sells well.”
He laughs. “I bet.”
“So anyway, I can’t exactly show up to this meeting alone. Everyone thinks that I get my ideas from experience… when I do not.” You blush and look down again.
“Because you use your brain.” Says Jin and you look up, surprised at his answer.
This is the first person to know what I mean without teasing me about my lack of a sex life...
“Exactly! Nobody wants to understand that I’m using my own brain and imagination and information that I researched and read instead of personal experience.” You roll your eyes and give him a big smile and he chuckles.
“Because people are idiots and want to think they know everything,” he replies and you nod in confirmation.
He gives you an easy smile. “So a publisher’s party for a cheesy romance novelist who just wants them to stay out of her personal life. Sounds fun.” He stands and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”
You softly place your hand in the crook of his arm. “Well now, don’t I feel fancy.”
He laughs and puts his hand over yours. “If we are playing a fake couple, we better start acting like one, dearest.”
You find yourself turning red again. Damn it easily blushing face stop it. “Of course… honey.”
He grins at you. “That’s the spirit!”
Together you walk down the street and into the hotel lobby. The desk clerk gestures you on towards the ballroom and you easily are able to find it. Taking a deep breath you place your hand on the door and look at Jin.
“You ready?” He asks, and you nod.
“Let’s do this.”
“You forgot my pet name, pumpkin.”
You roll your eyes and open the door, giving him a sugary sweet smile over your shoulder. “Sorry, babe. Now come along dear, I simply must introduce you to my publisher.”
He grins and wraps his arm around your waist, and you can only pray you can pull this off.
~
You had been at the party for over an hour now, and Jin had been great. Really great. He introduced himself as your boyfriend, and he had been making it really fun as you played pretend. Currently, you were talking to a group of your publishers and sponsors, and Jin was winning them all over with his quick smile, easy charm, bad dad jokes, and of course, his good looks. The conversation had drifted from small talk to your books quickly, and you hated it. You hated when the attention turned back on you, and you hoped nothing too revealing would be said that outed your real writing to Jin.
“And the entirety of chapter 57?! Whoo! I tried some of that out with my husband, and I have no idea how Emilia did it! We only did one of the things mentioned you know, and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life!” chimes in Julia, your publisher, fanning herself with her hand.
“Emilia?” whispers Jin, leaning down to get to your ear. “The main character in one of my books, baby,” you whisper back and Jin nods, straightening up.
“Ah yes, Emilia.” He says louder. “I love her.” You bite back your grin as your publisher coos over him.
“Of course you do, who wouldn’t?! You’re such a supportive boyfriend for reading all your books!”
So far, so good. We’re safe.
“Y/n, you do write some of the best erotica I’ve ever read in my life. Where do you learn it all?” asks Marilyn, one of your sponsors, patting your arm gently.
Shit. I jinxed it. So much for hoping nobody brings it up.
Jin chokes on his drink and tries to hide it with a cough, grabbing your arm gently. “Sorry, ladies, gentlemen,” he nods at your publishing team. “I think I’m having a coughing fit. Y/n, sweetie, would you mind stepping out to get some air with me?”
You rub his back in mock sympathy. “Sure, darling. Are you okay?”
“I just think I need some air, peanut.”
You can’t help your smirk as you show him to the balcony. As soon as you get through the glass doors and they close behind you, Jin doubles over laughing. “You write erotica?! You??”
You cross your arms over your chest. “Hey! That’s mean.”
He leans against the balcony rail and tries to steady himself. “Wait wait wait… sorry, but the lady who writes best-selling erotica… hired an escort?! Oh, my god.”
You sigh and lean against the railing. “Are you done?”
He gasps for air and wipes tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” He straightens his tux and takes a deep breath. “I’m a professional.”
You roll your eyes. “You sure act like one.”
He smiles at you, but it’s not mean. “You’re easy to be around. This is a fun job. Normally I have to work with a lot more stiff old people.” He makes a face and you laugh.
You both stand in the cold air in silence for a few moments and he takes off his jacket, placing it around your shoulders.
You try to ignore the shiver that does down your spine when his fingers brush your bare arms and look down at it and pick up part of it with your fingers, trying to act like it’s no big deal.
“What is this? Special treatment? I didn’t know I got the deluxe deal! Oh me oh my!”
He scoffs. “I may be an escort, but I’m a gentleman.”
You nod. “Very gentlemanly.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m so glad you noticed.”
You smile. “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”
He gives you a soft smile. “What? Oh, I’m fine. I’m very warm actually. Steamy. Especially now that I know a little of Julia’s sex life.”
You laugh. “I wish conversations got better than that, but unfortunately, when you write about sex, that’s all anyone ever wants to talk about.”
He nods. “I understand that. When you’re an escort, that’s all everyone wants to talk about too.”
“Wait.. isn’t it your job to talk sex?” you giggle and he nudges you with his elbow. “Usually there’s not that much talking” he winks and you laugh.
“Okay dude, TMI.”
“TMI?! You’re the one who writes erotica! Descriptively!” he cries and you laugh again as he shakes his head.
You are both silent for a few moments before he speaks again. “Okay, but, really, what happens in Chapter 57?”
You feel your lips quirk up in a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He looks at you incredulously. “You’re going to leave me hanging?”
“Yes, you just laughed at the fact that I write erotica!”
“I was surprised!” He defends, placing his hand over his heart. “You told me you wrote cheesy romance. I feel betrayed.”
You laugh and shove him with your shoulder. “It is a cheesy romance novel…. That just happens to have a lot of smut.”
“I told you about my sex life!” he accuses and crosses his arms, pouting. “I want to know about Chapter 57.”
God, he’s cute when he pouts.
You shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him as you walk away, smirking over your shoulder.
“Then you can buy it online or at a bookstore. It’s called Wildcard. I’ve heard it’s quite popular.” You open the door and gesture him to move. “Now come on, I think you’ve recovered from your choking hazard and I have more people I have to talk to.”
He puts his jacket back on and follows you back out into the decorated ballroom, mumbling about being left on a cliffhanger and what the frick was Chapter 57 and how you’re so mean to him, really princess, you can’t give your favorite escort a brief rundown?
You ignore him and link your arm through his again as you wade back into the room, getting called over almost immediately by your editor, who wants you to meet some more people.
~
At the end of the night, you take him to a secluded hallway in the hotel and pull the money out of your purse, watching him count it as you rub your arm nervously.
“Hey,” you say, and he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “I just, wanted to say, thanks… for saving my ass in there… you really did me a solid by being my date tonight.” You laugh and look away, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Well… you did hire me…” he trails off, tucking the cash into his coat pocket.
You blush. “I know, but still… thanks. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”
You flick your eyes to his briefly and he looks around the hall before striding forward and cupping the back of your neck, kissing you.
You gasp in surprise and he easily slips his tongue in. You find yourself clutching at the lapels of his coat as he deepens the kiss, his other hand sliding up the side of your thigh, under your dress.
You pull back and look at him wide-eyed as he slides his hand up towards your panties. “Jin?”
He smirks and continues to slide his hand slowly up. “You overpaid. I thought you didn’t want me all night?”
You feel your cheeks redden, but your gaze can’t leave his face. “I-I just tipped you.”
He licked his lips and pressed them back to yours before kissing his way down your jaw. “I think you wanted a little…taste, baby” he whispered huskily as he nips at your neck.
I should turn away. I should push him off. It was just a tip… but OH what did he just do to my neck?? god, do it again..
You moan softly as he works his way down your neck and cups you through your panties. Your heart pounds against your chest as you choose to ignore your logical mind and do something you’ve never done before…
Oh, what the hell.
…just let it happen.
You spread your legs a little further for him and moan in his ear as he begins to rub you through your panties.
“So wet for me? Already? And here I thought you just hired me as pretty eye candy,” he grins against your neck as you grab his hair, tugging his mouth back to yours, desperate for something, anything.
He slides his fingers under the side of your panties and you bite his lip when he teases his fingers up and down your folds, sliding against your slick.
“Ooo, you’re a feisty one, I see,” he smirks and nips your mouth right back, sliding his fingers slowly against you.
You had never been this turned on in your life, despite having past boyfriends who had tried and a few hookups… but none of them had ever felt this good. Had made you feel this good.
“Jin,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. “More.”
“As you wish ma ’lady” he nips harshly at your neck and you yelp, but he quickly lavishes over it with his tongue, soothing as his finger drags your slick to your clitoris and he begins to circle it slowly.
The back of your head hits the hallway wall, exposing more of your neck to Jin’s lips as you have to bite your own hand to stifle your moans when he slips a finger inside you.
He moans against your neck and pulls away from it with a pop, resting his forehead against your own.
“God, y/n, you’re so tight,” he whispers, pumping his finger in and out of you and then adding a second.
You buck your hips against his hand and he beings to curl his fingers up, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously as he begins to make out with you again to soften your moans.
He works you like this for a little while and you start keening, panting his name into his mouth while your hands clutch at his hair and shoulders to keep your balance standing up.
It’s all so much, too much, for someone who hasn’t been touched like this in years, and you find yourself burying your face into his chest when he presses his thumb to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and you come hard over his fingers, moaning his name.
He works you through your orgasm and as you come down you blush red again, realizing that you just let an escort, that you paid for, get you off in a back hotel hallway.
You hide in his shirt a few moments longer, trying to breathe until he gently pushes you off his chest and slides his fingers out from your underwear. You pull back, your hands still on his shoulders and he smirks seductively as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, making you blush harder.
He then shoves that hand in his pocket and backs away from you, giving you a two-fingered salute with his other hand.
“See you around, y/n. That was fun.”
He winks and turns, strolling out of the hotel doors, leaving you open-mouthed, panting, and wondering why that had been the best orgasm you’d ever had.
~~
Part 2
#kim seokjin#kim seokjin smut#bts#bts jin#bts kim seokjin#bts kim seokjin x reader#bts seokjin#bts jin x reader#jin x reader#jin x you#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction jin#bts fanfiction#bts reactions#bts smut#jin smut#bts jin smut#bts ksj#bts ksj x reader#ksj
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Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.14
Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.
Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV
Parting is such sweet sorrow has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go.
“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him.
“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”
"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look.
“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you told your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.”
“That’s impossible, they already love you.”
Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”
Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas.
“Really, really?”
“Really, really.”
“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like that would help his case.
“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.”
Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe.
Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold.
Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him.
“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips.
Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he had been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas’ complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary.
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to hold on. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer.
Lucas snorts out a laugh. “You take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”
“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”
He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges.
Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang.
All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he did just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.
He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop.
It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning.
In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott, she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demauries apparently.
adam.fk
plans today??
idrisomd
sleep
abebkhellal
oof yeah
emir.yous
buncha boring old men
omarions
says you??
didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao
emir. yous
we don’t talk about that
idrisomd
shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you
I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol
eliott can I borrow yours pls
emir.yous
maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time
I thought you were keeping that triangle??
idrisomd
maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates
I had to sacrifice it for the greater good
Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.
The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.
Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.
“Props.”
“Props?”
“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”
Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.
“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.
Idris jumps. “The triangle!”
“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.
“For that one scene in the forest.”
“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.
“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”
“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”
“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”
Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”
“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.
“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”
“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go oh, yes, the triangle was on point today? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”
“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.
The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?
Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.
He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.
Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight
The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so good) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.
His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—
“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.
The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”
“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”
The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach.
Jesus, he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.
His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.
Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.
He fails miserably.
The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.
When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.
The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.
Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.
Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most.
lucallemant started following you
It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.
srodulv
when should I?
should I wait til later?
adam.fk
maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao
srodulv
what if I wait too long and he unfollows
abebkhellal
god almighty 😂😂😂
sorry bro no one can help u now
srodulv
help me
emir.yous
why does it matter? just follow him now
idrisomd
he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast
srodulv
he won’t think that’s lame?
omarions
he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it
srodulv
fuck off
idrisomd
yeah man
you can’t hide lame
emir.yous
sorry we can’t help with that
abebkhellal
rip
srodulv has left the chat
A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.
His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.
He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—
I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though.
Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar and the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.
He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It is quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.
The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit.
“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.
They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”
Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page.
"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves.
“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration.
“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with.
“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the follow button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.
One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it.
“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott.
“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, Polaris. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.”
“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most brilliant idea. “What if I’m not?”
“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.
“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage.
He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh man, you guys, he did a weird thing.”
“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called reaching out.”
Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very Eliott of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung.
“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.”
Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over.
His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.
“Oh my god, someone restrain him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort.
“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.
Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”
“Yes, yes.”
“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”
There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”
By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about.
His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.
But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas.
About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them.
Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future.
The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder.
Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.
“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter.
Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”
Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.”
Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail.
“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.”
Don’t mess this up, Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d love to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right.
“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”
Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?”
Yes. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”
“How chivalrous of you.”
“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected.
“Do you want an essay or a list?”
“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?”
The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?”
Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior.
“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful fuckface at the end of that.
“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?”
“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?”
Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?”
“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.”
“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose you? Cause let me tell you, Eliott, that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will always come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.”
Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time.
“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone.
Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”
Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will ever work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.”
“Eliott?”
Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin.
Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her working bitch face. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
“Hi, mama.”
He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and fuck, that feels good.
Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?”
“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there.
“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze.
“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time.
“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.”
She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”
“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.”
“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think very hard about that offer in New York.”
“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws.
Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators.
Eliott ends up taking a long nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight.
Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally part of the goddamn system.
Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.
But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout that night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to sleep just a little, I’m right here. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay.
lucallemant
Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need
And I mean it, you can have more right after this
But please, can you pick me up at work?
I need you please
Please
Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.
It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of too late too late too late a mournful echo in his head.
He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination.
However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. You’re too late, the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.
Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body.
“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.
His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”
The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even look at him.
When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, I have you.”
Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be.
“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”
Silence.
Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.
“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.
“Lucas, wait!”
Unheard, just like the last time.
There’s something really, really wrong.
Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas’ door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night.
Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms.
“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most.
Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone.
“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale.
Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is.
The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that something would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better.
He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not.
Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants someone to tell him what to do.
In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room.
But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”
“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they’re not from the sting of his fall.
“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other.
“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life.
Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his own.
It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks.
Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.
“You okay, honey?”
His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair.
He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap.
“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”
“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.
lucallemant
Do you wanna come over for tonight?
I know we were just together but
It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though
He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.”
srodulv
If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway
lucallemant
You were asleep at your mom’s work??
srodulv
😂
See you soon
♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
☹️
♥️
lucallemant
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️♥️
♥️♥️
♥️
srodulv
😊
♥️
He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all.
When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door.
“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.
Uh oh.
“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?”
Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.
“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.
“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.”
“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.”
“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door.
“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?”
Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he’d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.
I technically have no right to be mad but I am, Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again, the look in them all but screams mistrust.
Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— never again.
The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.
“Okay, weird but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission.
“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.”
“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.”
Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.”
They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together.
“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”
“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes.
“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”
Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up.
“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.”
Lucas’ relief is palpable.
“Okay. That’s… that’s good.”
“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas.
“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.
“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”
“Shut up.”
“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”
“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.
“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”
“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open.
“God, do you ever shut up?”
“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”
Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips.
Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it.
His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had very non jokingly slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.
The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt.
And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, keep going.
Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened.
I love you, his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.
I love you, his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.
I love you, his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.
I love you, he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.”
Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough.
“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile.
“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.
“Yeah, your losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “Baby,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, any pet name in fact, for the first time—
“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.
“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck.
Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.
They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty.
“What—”
Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas shoves him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.
“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a baby, she can’t see that!”
Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan she’s just a dog won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them.
“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at least half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.”
#skam france#elu fic#elu insta au#fictag#there are about 20 variations of this chapter#lays down#chapter warning: ch11 flashback#the eliott pov i've been hiding
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Desperandum Victum Chapter 1
Jimin x Female Reader
Genre: Demon AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut (future chapters), Mature, Slow Burn
Warnings: The story will get really fucking dark, including themes of incest, cannibalism, rape, murder, slavery, gore, yandere, religion, and way more oof. This chapter doesn’t have anything but a subtle mention of violence lol
Word Count: 10,025
Summary: You’ve had a traumatizing hard life and you move to a new town for new beginnings. But what if this town was hiding secrets of it’s own?
A/N: Ahahahaha, I hate that it’s unedited. Let me know my mistakes fam so I can fix them. At the moment I’m setting in the story. I hope you guys read the warning! Enjoy.
It is hopelessness, even more than pain that crushes the soul-William Styron
You breathe in the brisk air. A cloud of steam encompassing your vision. From the rusted hardwood patio, you spot the large Latin cross above the ball and lantern of the church. The church stands a few blocks away from your standpoint yet is clearly visible to anyone in town glancing towards the heavens, as a sort of metonymy supposedly. Religious town folks, you gather, taking note of the polished finish of the pole compared to deteriorated timber linings of the dwellings scattered amiss. Shades of caliginous sky-blue paints your vicinity and you lead out another gust of blight. Frosty weather penetrates your sweats, making your thighs shake bitterly and your teeth chatter.
Sighing, you take one last look at the azure atmosphere and head inside; letting warmth engulf your bones. Entering the dining room, you hear the voice you’ve been avoiding all day
“Hey, you’re supposed to be helping me unpack!”
Scrunching your nose, you grab an apple off the countertop, “when’s dinner?”
“After we unpack”
Your mouth drops in horror as you eye the many boxes littered around the compact space with packing tape still intact.
“Are you serious? So next week then?”
“It’s my fault? I’ve been unpacking hours ago-most of this is your stuff anyway! And you aren’t doing anything-where were you even at?”
“Alright, alright relax,” plopping onto the floor you pull a box towards you, “stop nagging and hand me a razor”
He focuses his gaze on you, taking a moment before looking around. Observing the little beads of sweat on his forehead, courtesy the reflection of your ceiling light, a small pout presents itself on your face out of guilt. You shouldn’t have ran away to enjoy the house and helped out instead before he overworked himself again. You ignore the part of your conscious that whispers about how they weren’t there before.
A small pair of shears slide next to you and you pick it up to puncture your first box.
It’s around midnight when you complete the task of unpacking and modeling. You once over your small room and smile. Feeling at ease at the cozy looking space you jump, back first-onto your twin bed. Tepid knocks sing at your door, before the hinges creak open.
“Do you still want dinner?” He looks meek and apologetic, and you know how he worries for you. “No way,” you giggle, “I’m about to faint and I know you are too. Just go to sleep, you big goof.”
“But-“
“Oh my god Jun, it’s Sunday tomorrow, just give me a big breakfast, I’ll be fine!”
He smiles, “Alright, get to dreaming, punk”
The door shuts close and you correctly position yourself onto your pillow, pulling the warm comforter around your body and melting into the soft cushions of your bed. Cramped muscles and sore thighs from heavy items, awkward poses and tension relax and meander down from a hectic night. A window positioned right above your headboard let’s in soft moonlight through the eggshell white curtains. Your body dulls and your eyes dormant, slowly drifting your conscious elsewhere.
-
Vociferous chirping birds and a delicious aroma wafting through the entirety of your household right through your nostrils jolt you awake. Sitting up, you feel your dry mouth moisten itself. Last night’s hunger has nested itself in your guts making your craving for food more prominent. Putting a hand over your growling stomach, you throw the comforter off your legs and quickly exit your room, trudging towards the kitchen like a zombie.
Jun’s moving a spatula over a crackling non-stick pan, an unobstructed sniff lets you know the appetizing scent was bacon. “You’re up,” he smiles as you scrap a chair out near the modest pinewood dining table. 9:42 is what you sleepily eye on the clock above.
Stepping up behind you, Jun sets down a plate in front of you filled with your favorite type of eggs, toast, and crispy bacon, half wrapping you in his large frame while doing so. The fragrance from the food has you licking your lips, and Jun laughs while mussing up your bed hair. He smells really nice too.
You quickly pick up your fork digging into the entrée in front of you, as Jun pours some orange juice out in a glass.
“Whoa, slow down missy”
“am hungry”
“Ugh, and don’t talk with your mouth open” he hands you the glass that you snatch and happily gulp down in seconds
Jun grins
“Is it good?”
“It’s breakfast Jun,” you set down the container and narrow your eyes at him, “you don’t have to be Martin Yan to make it right”
“But still, saying thanks or complimenting me wouldn’t hurt,” a silly frown forms on his face as he sulks
You shoot him a cheesy smile, which dies down solemnly, “Thank you,” you mumble, “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper breakfast, so thank you, Jun.” Staring at him all-embracing, intently, you let your face reflect your gratitude
His gaze softens and he pulls out the chair in front of you ready to consume his side of the meal
The rest of the morning is spent in silent thoughts and steady heartbeats.
-
“Would you slow down for one second?”
You’ve been running through the streets like a little girl with Jun chasing after you. After breakfast the first thing you requested to do was go shopping. The town is too minor for several big malls, but they did have one in the town square area, which for you is like a candy store.
“Hurry up then old man!” you shout at him across the street, before running through the glass door of the large building.
To a city girl, this structure would be an average sized shopping precinct, but it was bigger than most of the town. Walking into the set of the second glass door, you take in the atmosphere of the brightly lit outlet. It’s bustling with people and families, you can already whiff Christmas although the holiday’s far off. There’s some happy tune settling in your ear, and a fresh mawkish aura from what you conclude to be a bakery on your left. Just like in the movies you surmise.
As your eyes twinkle at the new thrills, Jun catches up with you
“Goodness,” he huffs next to you with his hands on his knees, “Kids these days-“
He’s about to scold you but your eyes look so shiny, facing away from him towards the mall. He smiles.
“Alright, we have to hurry up. You have school tomorrow and I want you getting all your items and books ready. I also have to buy new pots and pans for the kitchen.”
You finally snap out of it and look at him, “Do we have to hurry? I mean can we please look around? And what about your work, don’t you have to buy some wrenches for the cars? Finding the right wrench takes a lot of time and effort,” you state as a matter of factly, “Also there’s a restaurant right by that bakery! We could have lunch here and continue shopping! No need to rush!”
Jun gazes at you rambling before he sighs, “I understand you wanna stay, but we can’t,” he gives you a pointed look, “we’re short on time and we need to get home to finish the rest of the unpacking and get you ready for your first day.”
Dejectedly you look at the ground like you’ve just been kicked. “But-” Jun begins
“We can come back here this Saturday and then you can look around as much as you want. Besides I’m making chicken Milano at home, I thought you loved that”
You perk up instantly and Jun almost laughs out loud at your easy to please nature, “Really, oh wow let’s hurry”
“Where do you want to go first”
“How about you go shop for the kitchen while I go buy some school items and clothes”
He looks uneasy at leaving you alone in an unknown place “uh..I don’t know, that doesn’t seem like a goo-“
“You said we are short on time! I’ll be fine, I’m 17 for god’s sake!”
After a bit more convincing and a credit card in hand, you cheerily skip your way through the shopping center. You find a small stationary store on the second floor of the mall. There are a few kids here, around your age and they’re probably here for tomorrow’s first day of school too. Picking up the items you deem essential, and avoiding eye contact to look like a dork, you pay and head out the store as quickly as you can. If Jun finishes his shopping beforehand, and finds you taking your time then he’s going to admonish you right in front of those kids! Entering a nearby aesthetically pleasing shop for clothes, you make it inside to search around for items you like.
You didn’t want them to be expensive. It’s all Jun’s money anyway. And some of the prices before almost gave you a heart attack. Maybe you should get a part time job, you ponder, then Jun wouldn’t have to worry about your expenses and you can take care of them yourself. Mentally high-fiving yourself at the genius idea, you head towards a rack that says clearance in the back of the store.
Your hands glide across the fabrics, attempting to seize something that catches your eye. When you do find something you like, you take it off the rack and give it a once over. It’s a cute red blouse that’s not bad for $8. Humming to yourself, you place it over your forearm and continue looking through the section.
Concluding your purchase with a top and bottom, you leave the shop in a satisfied manner. This’ll do for tomorrow’s big day. Next Saturday is when you will continue your genuine consumerism. You make your way downstairs to wait for Jun, that way you can tease him for being late. Making certain to take note of all the slight areas that catch your eye, to come back to on Saturday.
-
It’s been 10 minutes. You never considered yourself as an impatient person, but the excitement from having new items to entertain yourself with was challenging you to run home this instant. That and you were hungry.
Being so lost in thought you didn’t even realize there’s someone gradually wandering up by you.
“Hello”
“Whaa?!” You flinch gawking at the woman who crept up on you
She was smiling at you. Amused at your conduct, she chuckles
“My name is Joan Miller. Are you new here by chance? I have personally never seen you around our town?”
You give her a proper look. The lady was a bit taller than you and had small, bobbed blonde hair framing her jaw. There were smile lines around her mouth and in the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t look older than 40. She was wearing a black pant suit that was thoroughly ironed, not a wrinkle in sight, with an off white, button up blouse and thin blue stripes and velvet charcoal pumps. Holding a small black book inside her arms across her chest, she beamed at you with her eyes as crescents. There was something off about her smile, but you budged that assumption aside, not wanting to criticize a person you didn’t know.
“Um…Hi…Yeah, we just moved in yesterday in the old homes a few blocks from the church” You were nervous and not used to talking to strangers, even nice ladies like her, but you give her your name hesitantly
“I see, what a lovely name, and how enjoyable to see a fresh face in FallHaven,” Joan answers warmly, “Are you here with your parents, sweetheart?”
“She’s here with me,” Jun replies, and you flinch yet again
How come people are so good at sneaking up on you? You should work on that.
Joan smiles at Jun and reaches her hand out, for the typical adult greeting. Jun responds as he takes her hand and stretches her a pleasant smile as they give each other their names. He had shopping bags on the sides of his leg, cumbersome components he had to set down to accept hands with the blonde lady.
“If you do not mind me inquiring, where have you settled in from? Am I correct to assume you two are related in some way?” Joan asks
“That’s quite a few questions you’re asking” Jun states bluntly as you stare half shocked at him
Joan doesn’t skip a beat “It is a description in my job, young man.” She laughs a bit before stating “I represent Fallhaven Baptist church as one of their board members, and I am attempting to recruit young people such as you both.”
She turns and points to the stall behind her. It’s a modest table, with white cloth draped over it. There’re two poles at the edges of the table that connect a correspondingly snowy banner that read ‘FallHaven Baptist Church’ in blue. Two men await by the stand, with Joan like smiles on their faces, waving at you in a friendly manner. Joan waves back at them.
You and Jun meet eyes for a mutual look.
Turning to Jun again she completes her answer, “So you see, I want to know you individuals better, lest you join our humble commodity”
“Well um…,” Jun awkwardly coughs, “We’re pretty short on time at the moment-”
He pauses for Joan to interrupt the phrase like most do, but she patiently waits for him to finish his sentence
“…which is why we can’t talk much about it right now.”
She nods, “I understand, you both are quite busy with the recent events surrounding your move. Then I will not take up your time any longer, but may I hand you our brochure, if you might to revise your decision?” taking out a pamphlet behind her black book, she extends it towards Jun
You prepare for him to decline, as he stares blankly at the leaflet, but instead he gazes up at you for a moment before he shifts back at the woman to accept the brochure and thank her, catching you off guard
“Thank you for your kind welcome…we’ll definitely look into it”
You stare at him with your mouth agape as you hear Joan exchange some more polite words and an affable farewell
She turns to do the same to you, and you hastily adjust your gape to a ducky smile in the nick of time.
-
“Wow, they offer confessionals, perfect for you to profess about the time you stole my portion of the Chinese leftovers in the middle of the night”
“Can you ple-ase shut up?!” you complain for about the fifth time
He’s been scanning the brochure and making snarky comments the whole time you’ve been heading home.
“Hey, I’m just saying it’s a great way for you to erase your sin” he grins
“Why’d you even take the pamphlet, Jun? I get it, you don’t believe in god. Was it just to make sassy comments?”
When he doesn’t respond, you turn your face to him and he’s wordlessly focusing ahead, seeming adrift in thought.
You always marvel of what goes on in his mind.
“You do though, right? Believe in god that is” He starts
You nod mutely.
His orbs fix on you, and you blush at the amount of intensity you can spot in his spheres.
“You told me you believe in him, after I told you I don’t. Saying he gave you hope…I-We never had the luxury to examine someone like him completely since there was not a day that our lives were composed. But now they are. We’re calmly advancing towards our house, and not that horrid place we once dreaded coming home to. So why shouldn’t we take our time to learn about him now, see what all the fuss is about. It’s a fresh beginning and so we should keep our minds,” he winks, “and hearts open, no?”
Taking it all in, you close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed but not willing to show him so. For so long, all you’ve wanted is for Jun to have a peaceful conscious and it looks like here, it’s finally possible. God would help you two together.
But then you frown as you recall something, “Is it really that? Or is it that Joan lady?”
Jun becomes greatly confused, taking a moment to process what you said
“…what?”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Did you think I didn’t see? You shook her hand for way too long! And what was up with you ogling her?
“What the hell are you talking about? She’s a way older woman and she’s not my type, I like mine sexier not that she wasn’t sexy bu-”
“That’s disgusting!” You gasp, before crossing your arms and storming off ahead of him
“Wait come back I was joking! Where did this even come from?!” He desperately shouts, running after you with all the bags from the mall tangled around his limbs
-
After dinner you had offered to wash the dishes. Jun had seen right through you wanting to abscond the rest of the minor unpacking by doing the dishes, but he let it slide. Scrubbing and rinsing through the pots and pans, you hummed your favorite lullaby as a kid. The one Jun always serenaded you to sleep with. He was in the hindquarters rummaging around in his room with his door closed. Your room was just before his, on the other side of the narrow hallway.
When the last dish was in the rack, you threw down your rubber gloves onto the marble countertop next to the sink and booked it to your room. Baggage was pleasantly placed on the edge of your bed, untouched. You got giddy, feeling like they were presents. It was 9:30 pm, and Jun said he wanted you in bed by 10. Tsk, he still treats you like a child. Searching through your stationary, you start setting your backpack for tomorrow. FallHaven high school was the second largest building, after the church, in the town and you were agitated. I mean it’s a small place, and everyone probably knows one another since grade school. How is a newbie like you gonna fit in?
You get to your wardrobe and find the school uniform you had picked up before you even stepped into your new house, hanged and neatly ironed. Curiously, you pick it up and inspect it closely. It was the typical school uniform, with a navy-blue blazer, a bright bleached white button-up shirt, and a green plaid skirt. What was different though, was the attachable thin black ribbon around the collar, and as you picked it up with your fingers, you could see ‘FallHaven’ inscribed on the end of one side in yellow thread.
From the bottom of your closet, you pick up the only two pairs of shoes you own. A worn-out duo of sneakers, and the feminine flats Jun had gotten you for your birthday last year. Shit, you should’ve bought a pair of shoes rather than anything else. Choosing the flats and crew socks you quickly disrobe to put on your get-up. Tying the ribbon was impossible, so you just let it fall to each side of your collar. Walking up to the body mirror in the right corner of your room, you do a few twirls in place to check yourself out.
“Would you look at that”
You shriek as you hear someone behind you. There Jun stands with a smirk on his face, leaning into your entranceway with his hands in his sweat’s pockets. His tank top was drenched in sweat and his wet black hair fell over his brows. The exposing sleeves made you see how much his arms had grown, musclebound limbs taking up most of the capacity of your irises.
“Y-you scared me!”
“You scared me!” He responds with that stupid grin, “Look how cute you look, like a total princess”
“Oh, my g-god, you’re so embarrassing! Leave immediately!” You yell out with a red face, not bearing to consider his proactive display
“Not until I take a picture of you first! Where’s my camera?”
“NOOO!!” you run and push your door into the entryway to kick him out of view, but he pushes back
“Heyyy, don’t be shy, you look so great maybe I should keep you all to myself tomorrow,” He laughs
You feel your face burning up as you struggle to push the door
“Stupid! You’re so stupid! Go away”
“Alright, Alright,” he surrenders, letting go of the door and having it smacked in his face
Locking your door, you jump cranium first onto the bed-who’s springs squeak and grate
“So, I can’t even give you a compliment?” You could hear the teasing in his voice
“Shut up you big goof! Are you playing ‘Let’s see how annoying I can be’ suddenly?”
“I love you too, your majesty! Goodnight!” Jun brings his mocking to an end and you auscultate him walking away in the direction of the kitchen.
And even after getting changed into your pajamas, stealthily avoiding Jun by rushing into the shared bathroom and brushing your teeth, and placidly getting into your bed and pulling up the covers; you could still sense embers of feverous happiness crawling upon your neck,
“I love you goof, goodnight”
-
“Get up or you’ll be late!” Jun shouts
“Mmm five more minutes” You rotate to the side and pull your blanket around tighter
“Are you crazy? School starts in 45 minutes! Get up now!” he hauls the comforter off you and you fall of the bed on your derrière.
“Ooowww” you whine in your drowsy condition, while rubbing your butt
“Perfect, now hurry up and get dressed so we can have breakfast together, and remember the walk to school is 15 minutes”
He leaves the room, with his pink frilly apron on and spatula in hand while you crawl out after him towards the bathroom
After urinating, flossing, washing your face, fixing your hair and all that good stuff you put on your uniform in your room. You take a moment to sit on by your practically empty dresser, and once over your face. You’ve never been a makeup person, not because you didn’t want to be, but because life didn’t allow you to. There used to be this pink lip gloss you had as a child, that you really cherished however.
Even though you don’t desire it, fragments of an ancient memory arises in your vision,
The broken handheld was the only image of yourself you had. It was shattered and missing from the bottom, with a huge crack displayed in the center of the whole mirror. The broken side had begun to rust, and it was slowly raising its way towards the rest of the glass. Your tiny hand didn’t care though, holding it up to your face as you carefully applied the gloss on your lips, just like she does.
You hear another crash from outside the dark room, this one louder than the previous ones and it makes you quickly hide under your blanket on the floor while you breathe heavily. Closing your eyes, you try and think happy thoughts.
After some yelling and another crash, the door opens, before shutting again. You’re petrified by now and shaking in your spot, making the whole blanket vibrate.
“Hey,” someone puts their hand on your head over the blanket, “It’s alright”
It’s Jun
You take off the cover and grab onto him, “I-I tried thinking happy thoughts, b-b-but it didn’t work, I’m sorry” you snuggle onto his torso, your miniature body fitting completely in his larger frame
“No need to apologize princess, you didn’t do anything wrong” Jun pats your head to comfort you, with his other hand draped around you
He was stick skinny, and you could feel his ribs as you rubbed against his chest,
“Let me see your face” He asks you gently
You move off him to provide a view of your face. The room was shadowy, but there was a small window on the right wall lighting up the area moderately.
“Whoa, you look like royalty, why’re you so pretty?” He exaggerates his expression of surprise making you giggle
You clutched onto the gloss container inside your fist, afraid he’ll take it away if he found it
Jun solemnly places a digit on the purple under your eye, and you flinch slightly
“Does it still hurt?” He whispers
You give him a big smile, not insecure to show him your missing baby teeth “No! I like it”
“It looks like that paint those girls put on in the tv!” you beam
Jun gives you an unrecognizable look, putting his head on top of yours. You feel him start to shake and notice the gash on his shoulder, flaky skin ripped around the limb, as if someone stabbed him with something sharp and twisted the object in his flesh before ripping it off
“You’re too pure for this place-”
You jolt out of it as Jun shouts your name
“Coming!” You shout back, getting up and nabbing your backpack to swing around your shoulder
“What were you doing for 25 minutes?” Jun interrogates from the kitchen as soon as your steps become apparent on the wooden fabric of the dining room, with his back in view. He’s messing with something, but you pay no mind to it
“Where’s the food” You ignore his question
“Is it not on the table, cause I’m sure I put it on the table, the one with the food on it, that table right in front of you, with the food, you know th-”
“Okay, Okay, oh my god,” you say with a mouth full of toast, having already sat down to consume the jellied bread while he made his sarcastic remarks
“When are you going to work” you ask him
“At 9, I’ll be home by 4 alright?”
“Mmm” you respond with a mouthful of OJ
He appears out of the kitchen and plants a lunch box in front of you and smiles, putting his hand on each side of his hips
“…There’s no way I’m taking that” His smile fades
“Why not?!”
“Jun, they told you they offer lunch! All the other kids probably eat at the cafeteria, I’m not gonna bring this and look like a mommy’s girl or something!”
Jun seems offended and puts his hand over his chest, just to show you how offended he was, “I can’t believe you care about what other people think, rather than me, who lovingly made this lunch for you! I even made bunny apples!”
You scream out of terror “ARE YOU CRAZY?! Do you want me to look like I’m 5?
“Maybe I do! At least you were nicer than and didn’t insult my food THAT I LOVINGLY MADE FOR YOU!”
“You are so childish! Eat the lunch yourself!”
“I already made one for myself thank you very much, maybe you should learn to make food for YOURSELF!”
“MAYBE I WILL!”
“FINE THEN!”
“FINE THEN!”
You grab your bag and storm out the front door, slamming it shut.
-
You finally notice the evidence of rain as you stepped in your 6th puddle and zone out of your subconscious. It must’ve been pouring last night. Argh, I should really be careful with these shoes till Saturday, you internally scold yourself, moving to the barren side of the road.
Your guilt however justifies that you sort of deserve it, for being so mean to Jun. Sighing, you reflect on how he got up extra early to make you lunch and feel even worse. You hated fighting with him, and it wasn’t a usual occurrence, so happening on the first day of school gives you a bad premonition. Why couldn’t you just take it and hide it in your bag to spare his feelings? And you love bunny apples, so what’s the big deal? But you also wish he’d stop treating you like a child.
It’s not about the lunch box, but rather every time he says he misses when you were younger. As if you’ve changed so much, he doesn’t recognize, doesn’t see…doesn’t like you anymore.
You hate it.
Before you know it, your ears detect the sound of other kids in the near distance. Perking your head off the ground, you see students in similar uniforms heading toward the large open front gate of the school.
Ok, just act normal, act normal, act normal. No one must know you’re a freshie, you’ll be fine.
Their necks snag your attention suddenly. All of them had perfect ribbon tied bows on their collars, while you just droopily looped your ribbon together once.
“Great,” you mumble, so much for not looking out of place
Making it to the front gate, you turn to see the building you saw Saturday. You’re in admiration again, and those same butterflies appear in your gut. It’s a large red-bricked school, with white decorative foundation linings, and a beautiful white roof cresting. A large mansard gable sits at the head of the building, adorned with fish scale shingles. There was a small religious cross finial at the edge of the top, and hooded windows on each side of the front of the structure, and one in the face of the roof. The school was well thought out and stunning.
You take a deep breath, before walking to the open double doors. There’s a man that stands right in front of the entrance of the school’s hallway. Towering over you as you pass him, you give him a little good morning and he nods at you. He’s eminently pale and has deep dark circles under his lifeless eyes. His hair is matted against his large square head, and he garbs like he’s going to a funeral. Not a good start, you contemplate.
“Okay, first period calculus, room 306,” you whisper to yourself as your feet guide you along the stairs to the third floor and the polished tile hallway
302, 304, oh there it is! You stop right in front of the chocolate door of the math class. This is it, you raise your sweaty palms toward the knob, here you go. A chance at a normal life, a new outset, a bett-
“Are you not gonna go in?”
Startled you bounce back with a yelp, hand motionless in mid-air. When you manage to locate the cause of your sudden scare, your jaw almost drops to the floor.
The first thing you see is red hair. Silky, beautiful red tresses, enclosing the fair face of a young boy about your age. Handsome was an understatement. He possessed deep, penetrating monolids, with the illuminated hallway polishing beneath his somber orbs. His plump doll-like lips seemingly out of place to his otherwise masculine features; the fuchsia hue expensing his labium’s canvas making him look softer, younger. The portrayed youth extended by his chiseled jaw line, and his skin’s flawless artistry with not a blemish in sight. Someone like this must be hand carved by the devil himself.
His vibe is inimitable, unlike anyone’s you’ve perceived before. Hands in his pockets, callous attitude, unshakeable posture, all of it reminds you of those bad boys in the 70’s flicks. He demands attention so effortlessly, and when he slightly shifts his otherwise immobile head to the side, is when you realize the fact that you’ve been gawking at him shamelessly.
“H-huh?”
“I asked if you were gonna go in or not”
“Oh, umm yes o-of course,” you hastily grab the knob and bare the entry way open for him, so awkwardly that you’re trapped behind the door while he walks in, not giving you another glance
You cringe internally at your stupidity while walking into the classroom. You were nervous that everyone was gonna glower at you, but you notice that the few kids filling up the classroom had their eyes on the guy who entered before you. He was walking en route to the back of the room by the window. Not wanting to draw any awareness at your person, you took that time to quietly go sit in the desk in the middle of the room.
The classroom was brightly lit, yet not to the point of straining and suffocating the students. Looking at your feet, you see the floor sustained by mini dim white tiles, and the clean desks were a soft tan, each one separated a few inches from the other. Forward was a huge clean white board, with an enlarged welcome back written in black ink. It was so different from your old school, where the desks contained carved slurs, so you could barely write on them and the walls grew dark yellowed mold. Teachers wouldn’t even show up days at a time. You were in awe at the smallest things.
Sitting there absentmindedly, you watched the room start to fill in. After about 10 minutes, the capacity of the seats was complete, and students had begun conversing with one another. Fidgeting the slightest in your seat, you wished to one day be a part of one of the kids chatting since you never had many friends before. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a girl to your right staring at you with her hand held up by her jaw. She’s probably just curious about if she’s seen you around before or not. You hoped she’d come strike up a conversation after class.
That’s when the bell rang making you sit up straight.
A minute later, in strolled a chubby instructor in a tan suit holding a large binder in his dextral arm
“Good morning,” he enounces, gathering his material by his table in the front
“Good morning Mr. Doug” the class replies in a faulty unison
The instructor makes small talk, and a joke that cracks up a few students in the first row. It seems like he already knows most of the schoolchildren, at least everyone in this class. There were around 200 kids in the whole school, so you wouldn’t put it past him. You were so grateful that this was everyone’s first day back from summer, and you didn’t randomly come here in the middle of the semester.
“Alright, as you all know this is your final schoolyear, I’ll explain what you can learn from this class and calculus in general” Mr. Doug unfolded his binder
As he’s about to talk again, the door expands open. It was a long-legged, extremely attractive man. He stepped into the room and bowed at your teacher. His elongated black coat making him look graceful and expensive. Then he turned towards the class, looking over you at someone behindhand,
“Master Jimin,” He spoke in a deep, respectful voice, striding past you making everyone’s head follow him, “I’m glad I found you, my apologies for not keeping up with your speed” he bows intensely with his hands folded on his thighs, at the good-looking boy you had met outside. “Jimin” doesn’t say anything, he glances at him, then back at Mr. Doug
“Start the lesson” the red head voices, in the same apathetic tone he used with you
“Oh! Yes, right away,” Mr. Doug scrambles to get back to his practice after the abrupt interruption
The remainder of the class goes smoothly, with you having some informative handouts by the time the dismissal bell resonates. Suddenly the room goes silent, and you become confused as to why they’re so still, when you hear the chair of someone behind you screech and two pairs of footsteps come your way. As soon as Jimin is in your line of sight, everything starts going in slow motion.
Fleeting past you, he turns his head back to look at you. Out of nowhere you feel a spur of sparks underneath your skin, and the ambience converts into fire. You let out a loud gasp and gripe the material cloth around your chest. Perspiration appears on your brow and your breathing is heavy, you turn to look back at Jimin, bewildered and frightened at the pain you just caressed; to see him no longer looking at you…but not moving either. The black coat man is standing right behind him, just his coat in your perception. Jimin stands there with the back of his red head in your orbs. You’re unable to see his expression, but you don’t need to as he starts walking again, up and out of the classroom with that cold mask on his face and black coat man trailing.
Though you’re certain you peeked a frown on his ethereal features.
When you look around the room again, everyone had their eyes on you. Some look just as surprised as you, others were disordered. Even Mr. Doug gave you a strange face. You feel strangely exposed…and a sense of danger looms in the corner of your gut. Bit by bit, people get back to their business, gather their belongings and empty the classroom one by one, and sadly the girl who stared at you at the start doesn’t come up to you as you watch her walk out the door. Hiding your disappointment, you grab your things to head to your 2nd period class.
What happened in that room doesn’t vacate your mind for a second.
-
By the end of third period, it’s lunch time. The one thing you were dreading the most. You’ve watched movies, you know that the new student sits by themselves and watches all the other kids interact all noisily. Then suddenly the bully comes up and makes fun of the new kid and the whole lunch room laughs! Oh no. Biting your lip, you rigidly walk down the hallway until you enter the vast cafeteria.
You were right, it was noisy.
Kids took up the whole room, laughing and playing loudly. Boys making dumb jokes and girls leaning in whispering to each other, lost in their own world. Faded blue circular lunch tables accompanied the bright chalky chamber. Toward the end of the room, you spot a glass door that led to the outside, with more circular islands inhabiting the softly cemented pavement. That’s where you wanted to be. As quick as you can, you step up to the line for the lunch, left of the entrance. Grabbing a tray, you trace the person in front of you filling up your tray with items that you found pleasing
Contrary to the movies, the food looked delicious. Fancy school privilege maybe. There wasn’t even a “lunch” at your old school. You watch the person in front of you pay for his share of the meal and walk off and that’s when it hits you.
You don’t have money.
The fight with Jun had made you storm out in a rush, forgetting to ask him for change. He probably wasn’t gonna give you any anyway. You stand there, motionless; staring at nothing, while you feel the eyes of the cashier and the rest of the people in line, on you. Why do these things happen to you? What’re you going to do? You want to put your food back, but this doesn’t seem like the type of place you could do that without repercussions, especially social ones. Your worst nightmare is all at once coming true
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, n-
All of a sudden, someone puts a $5 bill on the section of your empty tray. You whip your head at them, wide-eyed, recognizing the familiar face.
It’s the girl from class…the one that caught your attention infirst period.
She smiles, “I got you, don’t worry”
You didn’t want to take her money, so you open your mouth to decline, but she slightly encouraged you up to the registrar with her palm, with a slight laugh. Paying with a heavy heart, you marginally move off the line to give the girl your thanks after she pays for her meal.
“Hey,” she greets you when she turns to see you obviously waiting for her
“Hi, umm-I’m so sorry you had to pay I’ll pay you back-it’s just I forgot my money because I was in a rush seriously I’m such an idiot”
“Okay, whoa slow down,” she giggles, “Come on let’s go sit first” She takes your arm in hers and you stiffen from shock at skin ship. Like stated, you never had many friends. And by many, you mean you only had one. No, it wasn’t Jun.
She leads you past the lunch tables, through the glass doors to reveal an abundant atrium with cherry blossom trees, a checkered polished bluestone pavement, and open canvas windows in the surrounding building. The top sections of the building were surrounded by a terrace like roof, unlike the front of the school. They were closed off by a pointy white fence. It was beautiful.
“Holy fuck” you whispered, bending your neck to take every single detail in
“Right?” the girl snickers “I had the same reaction.” She sits you down in one of the empty lunch tables.
The girl had mid length caramel brown coils softly springing with her every movement. Her sepia soaked skin gleamed in the sunlight. Thin rimmed glasses sat on her nose, at the edge of which a small, unnoticeable mole resided. Irises were soaked in amber, alluring anyone who welcomed them with their own.
“Thank you once again,” you make out
She just angles her head to the side and gives you a wink, while you blush. Are all the students of this school magically hot?
Trying to focus elsewhere, you notice there weren’t a lot of people around, which had you bewildered. Why did they eat indoors rather than this fascinating space? Something was wrong.
“Umm, are we allowed out here?” you ask the stranger who’s already digging into her tray
“Well, technically you aren’t,” she says with a mouth full of sausage, “but I am” reaching into her shirt, she pulls out an id badge, “I’m with the honors society, and I can bring up to two people with me if I need.”
Underneath her name, which you now knew as Candace Angevin, in bold yellow ink stated ‘FallHaven Honor’s Society Pass Level B’
“Pass level b?”
“It means I’m permitted in some areas of the building most students aren’t. There’s pass level’s A, the most restrictive and pass level S, with that you can go literally anywhere. This school is a maze with tons of secret rooms, probably because it’s connected to the monastery”
“MONASTERY?!” You gasp
“You didn’t know? This town’s popularity is for that sole reason! See this side of building?” she points at the side away from the entrance “that part attaches to a far-flung horizontal structure, which leads to the back of the church”
Your mouth hangs open
She laughs out loud “It only leads to it, it’s not connected! But yeah, it’s built like that on purpose”
“Why?”
“There’s a tower in the middle”
At that exact moment, a quick breeze arises through the atmosphere, making you equally shiver slightly
“…A tower?”
“It’s called the angel’s tower and it’s a sacred place of prayer, for some of the higher-ups…some say around 120 years ago, an angel landed in that abandoned watch tower, with a grave warning to the village’s inhabitants. Apparently, babies were stillborn, disease plagued the town and crimes were at their peak. The famine was so great that some people had resorted to…cannibalism of their own kids”
You gulp and look at your tray of food, not very hungry anymore.
“But after that angel showed up, he gave the village folk a vision. With a major cautioning. It completely cured all their problems, and now FallHaven is the small yet profitable town it is today. That’s the reason everyone and their mothers here are so religious. Did you notice the absence of women in this town? Most of them live in the Monastery, to serve god and that angel”
“Wow…I can’t believe it”
“That’s cause it’s not true” she replies mischievously
“WHAT”
She laughs again “I mean I don’t know if it is. There are 9 different versions of this rumor, this is just the most popular one”
“Tsk” you pout picking up your fork
“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re too easy to fool hehe, what’s your name by the way hun”
You tell her your name while slurping on your noodles, “It’s nice to meet you Candace, I really am gonna pay you back”
“Shit don’t worry about it. I helped you out because I wanted to. Once upon a time I was in your position”
“You forgot your lunch money?”
“No, silly” she gets up from her side of the table and sits right by you, “I was a new student two years ago” She takes your ribbon in her hand, looping and tying the thin stable fabric around your neck appropriately. “There” she goes
You stroke your ribbon and smile. It feels exactly how hers is displayed.
“Thank you”
-
“Yes!” you shout reaching into your room and jumping on the warm cotton heaven that was your bed. “Mmm, I never wanna leave you again,” you muffle into the sheets
Hasteningly, you remove your shoes and socks, tingling your feet around. With the same energy you remove the heavy blazer and loosen your ribbon. Rotating in the bed so your eyes face the ceiling, you take in a breath and gleam. What a wonderful day!
Today went so, so much better than your brain made it seem like it would. You actually got to study, the teachers seemed all nice. Your history teacher told you a story about her cats, your sixth period teacher had donuts for the students, and there’s even a volleyball team you want to join in. And most importantly, you made a friend! Your very first official friend! Oh how exciting!
You told her about Joan and joining the church, which it turns out she’s already a member of! This way you can see her throughout the week a bit more. Being so happy makes your whole body flounder on the mattress, which eventually leads you to hitting the soles of your feet on the side rail, hard.
“Ow!” you scream, sitting up and applying pressure on the pain.
That’s when you recollect your first class, the pain you felt on that desk…the raging fire ripping your skin apart from your muscles…What was that? It happened when that Jimin guy looked at you.
Jimin…
Candance had told you about him. His name was Park Jimin and he was some kind of royalty and lived in the mansion in Votum Valley, which is located east of the school. It’s a hill-side area connected to FallHaven, where some rich people live.
“If you think this school is pretty, you should see Votum valley”
“What was up with that black coat guy” you ask her, gathering your things to leave lunch
“That’s his assigned special guard, all the three royalties have one. The school lets them do whatever, since they’re the main donors. You know how that stuff works. They could get teachers fired and fried, if they wished”
“There’s three of them?”
“Basically, they aren’t hard to spot, but one of them skips school relentlessly and the other is gone for the week on a special trip. They are a huge deal on campus, like have you seen their faces? It’s funny because all three of them hate each other and avoid the other at all cost”
Walking along the corridor to your next classes she becomes solemn “Hun…what happened in the morning with Jimin?”
“I don’t know! That was so strange, I was so confused. He looked at me and everything became painful,” you reply, shaking at recalling the incident
You both stop at an intersection where you had to part, she gives you a concerted look
“Just be careful alright? They’re all dangerous and it’s not a good idea to get involved with them”
“Dangerous, huh?”
You stare at your foot, lost in thought, when the front door opens. That’s most likely Jun.
Tipping to the edge of your entryway, you peak at the entrance and watch him take off his shoes. His hair’s a mess and he had black marks on his gray jumpsuit and hands. Your heart feels a pang. When he has his back towards you, putting his shoes on the shoe shelf, you quietly step up behind him and engulf his broad shoulders in a hug
“…Hi”
“Hey…rough day?
“Not really,” he sighs, “It’s the same work it was in that place. But better too.”
Peaking at the petty incisions on his fingers, you let out a heavy exhale.
“I’m sorry” You mush your face into his back
“Me too,” he turns and gives you a gentle smile, before mussing up your hair, “I shouldn’t have been so childish”
“No, I was the one!” you stop him, “it’s just that…Jun this is my first time at a normal high school. There’re actual people there! I’ve never…even once…” you shut your eyes, “…I just don’t want to mess this up, and my brain is telling me all these crazy things an-”
“Hey, Hey, hey,” he cups your teary face, “it’s okay, I understand…better than anyone…and since your lunch is still in the kitchen, now I won’t have to make dinner”
You smile in his palms “You’re such a goof”
He laughs and moves towards his room “I spoke with Joan today” he shouts back at you
You didn’t like hearing her name so casually from his mouth “Joan?”
“Yeah, that church lady,” he turns to you, “I’m serious about joining that church you know. Almost everyone in town is a member, and this is a good thing to build some friendships in the community. She’s asked us to come talk to the head board member this Saturday.”
“This Saturday? What about the shopping?”
“We can do both princess, don’t worry,” he winks, “now get dressed, we’re gonna go buy some fresh produce from the farmer’s market before they officially close for the season. Uncle Alp recommended it. I’m gonna go take a shower”
He walks into his room and you sigh. Moving to a novel town is such hard work
“Well, if uncle Alp recommended it”
-
A secular section in the center of the town had a detachable farmers market installed for the season. Summer was officially over next week, so this was the last day the farmers would contribute crops for the year. You and Jun wandered around through many colorful umbrellas and stalls. The fruits and vegetables were way larger than you’ve seen in grocery stores and uplifting. There were a few stands selling homemade items, such as jam or achar bottles. People crowded the center on the last day of the market, and every alleyway was jammed with products. The nearby shops were also getting attention, and everyone was loud and boisterous.
“How much is a carrot,” Jun asked, holding up the orange stick. He had already bought a bunch of other veggies and fruits and had a cloth bag full of them. Before leaving the house, he kept bragging about how he always came prepared because of said bag.
“$1 per pound,” shouted the heavy-set older man, in a gruntled tone while helping other customers in the rush
“A whole dollar!? Did you lose it? Have you seen your carrots? One of them could easily be 3 pounds”
“Then that’s like 3 carrots! Where’s the problem?”
You rolled your eyes and backed away from them arguing. You were about to step away altogether when-
“Look out!”
Suddenly a small white ball of fluff started roaring towards you and you screamed and hid behind Jun. The small ball started yapping right in front of Jun, while he laughed, and you held him in front of you as a shield.
“Hey little guy”
“Oh no I am so sorry!” you peek behind Jun to see a 30 year-old man in a white panama hat push through the crowd and face Jun. He bends down to pick up the monster and it turns out to be a little dog
“I am so sorry,” the man says again in a thick accent, “my mojo is very hyper, but he’s harmless!”
“It’s not a big deal,” Jun smirks, “I have someone like that myself,” he grabs you from behind with his arm and drapes you to his side
“You are very pretty miss! I’m sorry my dog scared you,” Says the man in white
“Thank you and it’s alright” you blush
“My name is Hector from Spain, and I am here with my crew!” Just then, a few other men holding camera, lights and other gadgets appear from the crowd, “we are here shooting the beauty of FallHaven!”
“Hello, Hector from Spain my name is Jun, and this is ____,” Jun reaches out his hand for a shake and Hector gladly obliges, “Why’d you choose FallHaven so far from home?
“Oh, my father came here when I was once a boy! He was in a scout of missionary men invited by the head of the church, he loved it here so much and always talk of it. After an illness, he had to move back to Spain and now that he’s in the last stages of his life I want to document the life and style he saw here and show it to everyone home!
“That’s amazing, your father would be so happy”
“I’d think so too, would you both like to be in my documentary?”
“Oh, we’d love to,” Jun scratches the back of his head, “but we aren’t really FallHaviens yet. We just relocated here three days ago.”
“Marvelous! How do you like it here so far?”
Hector introduces his crew and talks to Jun for a while. You stare at the messy little Pomeranian in the man’s arms and how it kept getting reckless. His petite legs kept flopping everywhere, trying to get loose. You hoped it wouldn’t run off again.
But looks like the world never listens to you and it jumps off Hector, barking and running into the crowd.
“Oh no not again” Hector shouts, and you all sprint after it. You end up getting separated from Jun in the immense crowd, but you are too focused on looking for the little dog on the ground. All you see are people’s limbs, so you huff and look around the atmosphere. In the spur of the moment, you spot a small ball type figure moving in one of the alleyways, making you rush towards it.
“Mojo?” you call once you’re in the alley, “here doggy”
Silence
You call it a few more times wondering around the passage with your hands cupped around your mouth. Bending to investigate small nooks and crannies, you expected to see shaky white fur, but there was nothing in sight expect a few bugs, which creeped you out.
Frustrated, you turn to step out the way you originated when you jump and let out a yelp.
There was an old lady standing at the spot you came in at the edge of the alleyway, just staring at you.
At a lost for words, you gaze at her, a bit too aware of how alone you were in the empty lane. The day’s become a bit dimmer, yet you can still make out her emergence.
She’s so old the skin of her cheeks is drooping down her face. Wrinkles swallow her skin, and her lips have protruded into her mouth long ago. Her stature’s short and stubby and her head is covered by a silk bandana tied to her chin. The hair peeping out of her bandana is slicked back, aged white, and looks fizzed.
Yet what really scares you is how full of life she looks. Her lips are hauled into a straight line, and her eyes are opened so wide, it looks like they’ll pop out of her skull. They have an immense hold on you and you’re terrified by her glare. She doesn’t even blink.
“I-is…Is everything okay ma’am,” you say quietly, shaking in your spot. She doesn’t respond.
Did I do something wrong you wonder
“Um-are you lost?” You take a minute to look around the alleyway, maybe her family’s nearby and she wandered off
But no one’s around, not even a kid. You were sure there were people here when you came in. The path had become darker, and it looked like here were dark clouds lining the sky, when you remember the sunny nature of the market just a while ago. It was eerie and strange. Your heart was beating in your ears.
Sighting silence, you turn back to face the woman and scream. She’s closer. So close, that the tip of your shoes is almost touching her bare toes. Looking at you through huge eyes, she stands as still as a statue in your space.
“Um-uh…ma’a-” You start stuttering before she grabs your wrist. You shriek at her sudden action and try to pull your hand away. Her fingernails are long and grimy, yellow and chipped, stabbing into your wrist with outstretched force. She tightens her grip as you struggle, and you feel tears clouding your eyes.
“Ha-saw-tawn ‘ohebh `azab zo'th e-rets” She speaks in a foreign tongue, with a menacingly measured voice which displays her rotten black tines
“Please stop,” you cry, trying to pry off her grasp with your other hand. But she’s too strong, and your wrist feels like it’ll crack in two. You’re full out balling right now, scared to death as she keeps repeating her sentence
“Ha-saw-tawn ‘ohebh `azab zo'th e-rets”
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Jun barges into your vision and pulls the old lady off you. Quickly discarding her to the side he steps up worriedly to your horrified face. He eyes you holding your wrist and gently places his hand on yours to silently ask you to let him see, he could feel you quivering as soon as he touches you.
You take your hand off to reveal a hard-red bruise forming around your wrist. “Fuck” Jun mutters. He places a finger on it and you wince, making him livid. You see his enraged face turn in the direction of the old woman still standing there with the same manifestation. Balling his fist, he makes a step towards her, when you clutch onto the back of his shirt.
“P-please let’s g-go,” you say through tears. Jun looks back at you with tenderness, but doesn’t move his stance, so you say it again
“Please”
He physically deflates and closes his eyes to gather his thoughts. Taking you under his left arm, he guides you away from the place, trying not to make eye contact with the old woman because that’ll make him furious. Leaning into him, you shut your eyes to shut out her face mentally.
As you guys start walking she says something which makes you jump again, but Jun ignores her and keeps moving
“A-vad”
She keeps repeating the same word and turns her face as you both brush past her in the narrow passage way. Jun says nothing, and you can see his jaw clenched. He stops a few feet from her to pick up his bags of produce he had dropped, and you take this time to look at her. The old woman had turned her whole body to face you, while she reiterates her word,
“a-vad…a-vad…a-va-“
“Let’s go”
You gasp, as you turn to face Jun. He takes you in his arm again when you nod and leads you out of the alleyway, and eventually the center. She never stopped repeating the word until she was out of your sight, and you wonder if she stopped at all.
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MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS ON FINE LINE TRACK BY TRACK IDK WHY I THOUGHT IT COULD BE FUN PLEASE SHARE YOURS TOO OR MESSAGE ME WHAT YOU THINK OK
1. GOLDEN
i feel like it is a very easy and light song, quite repetitive? but i think it’s the vibe he wanted. side A songs seem very summery and idk optimistic? am i making any sense lol i love his voice so so much aaaaa TAKE ME BACK TO THE LIGHT ..much too think about. but uh... brown my skin just right? what?
oh and i thought this was the shroom song where he bit his tongue etc but there are many contenders right kfjdsllfd
2. WATERMELON SUGAR
before it came out i was absolute sure it would be a bitter breakup song, so i was caught off guard dfhkdghd it’s my own fault though. very very fun and catchy and upbeat. his lyrics are sooooo visual in this album !!!! i love it !!!!! i want your belly still kills me... this song live is another level. AMAZING.
3. ADORE YOU
YES. BASS. it’s hard to decide what i love the most in this song, the vocals and background vocals or the lyrics!! i mean, lyrics are a bit of my thing but ye.. i interpreted it as harry asking someone like can i fall for you? maybe because that is 100% me. i can only give all of me in a relationship and i think it’s the best part of it, being vulnerable and open to feel all the feelings without overthinking. sorry i love it.
4. LIGHTS UP
OH MY GOD. i cannot explain how much i fell in love with this song. like obsessed. between hs1 and the 3 singles, it’s my favorite harry song EVER but we’ll see... that’s everything i needed to hear and it is so inspiring and beautiful to see him explore and experiment and love life and accept himself. i could go on and on. the music video is perfect i have no words. ahhh
5. CHERRY
i knew i was going to love this one when he said it was about being petty when things don’t go our way... oof. i do relate a lot to even the images he created, it hits hard. but it also is heartbreaking. it’s so sad. and there’s so much emotion and storytelling i feel like i’m going through it with him and it kinda hurts. beautiful beautiful beautiful. i don’t know shit about production or melodies but the instrumental part is perfect, it’s so involving. it’s one of my favorites and i cryyyy
6. FALLING
i could tell side B was going to be sad. and also my favorite. he talked about the chorus and jesus, that’s me. always, but specifically right now. so maybe that’s why i instantly started crying as i heard the first note. again with the visual lyrics !!! it just puts you in this mindset. idk it hits hard and i need more time to deal with it. right now i can only cry. ALSO THE FUCKING VOCALS. the whole album is another level but this song specially? breathtaking.
7. TO BE SO LONELY
again i knew i would connect with this song. but it makes me sad that it seems like the relationship made him doubt himself so much, i feel that in falling as well. i mean.. relatable, but it breaks my heart. this is where i remembered it was a break up album ahsgdjhfs it feels a little more upbeat? it could be just me. it reminds me of some indie band but i can’t figure out which one but i love love love it. what i get is like he wasn’t in denial anymore at this point, he was accepting things weren’t going well and he just wanted to allow himself to feel sad and lonely. thoughts???
8. SHE
i don’t know what i was expecting, but it surprised me from the begining. and it confused me so much. so much. i read some people saying ‘she’ could be a part of harry, but i still can’t wrap my head around it, i don’t understand this songggg what is going onnnn but then i saw him saying mitch came up with the melody while on mushrooms, so maybe that’s why it is so unclear and intriguing and interesting !! a woman who’s just in his head and she sleeps in his bed??? what
also.. the chorus reminds me so much of zayn... why can’t they get their shit together.... imagine the harmonies....
but yeah please tell me what you think of this one. all the theories. help me.
9. SUNFLOWER, VOL. 6
ohhhhhhhh. i was really excited about this one because i love love sunflowers and all the flowers and i love metaphors with flowers. AND IT DELIVERED. one of my favorites for sure. this side seems a little happier, right? more about being a fool for women and loving it we STAN. the gasping does something to me.. feels like a weed song if you ask me asjhdsjfsj in love with every detail
10. CANYON MOON
60s 70s 80s i get all of it!!!! timeless love song!!! it makes want to be in love so that’s a bit sad dsfjhgshjdfs and old lover’s hippie music ahhhhh idk it feels like a simpler song? i don’t know what else to read into but cute cute
11. TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS
i think i hate it... but to be fair i was already judging it by the title. if i ignore the chorus it is not so bad. but then again it has potential but it’s just... not my thing. i’m sure it will grow on me, the vocals and the structure of the song is really good but i’m not about that dkjgdfkghdkj ‘just a little bit of kindness’ .........
12. FINE LINE
don’t think i understand this one either, but it feels like there’s so much going on, maybe i won’t ever be able to pinpoint what he means hmm ‘there’s things that we’ll never know’.... such a deep song, it really is a roller coaster. when he is repeating the same lines and the tempo changes ??? amazing. and then he says the best thing to ever hear ‘we’ll be alright’ and it destroyed me in the best way possible. it is the last line of the album and i think that says a lot. i know i will cry a lot to this song fjhkhgdfk
that was a lot. felt too many things. i need a bit of time. my heart hurts and i love this man.
#me talk#fine line spoilers#fine line#spoilers#harry styles#fine line analysis#its been a while since ive written so much in english so please excuse me ashdsjd
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Again
A bright light and a loud screech forced Lazarus awake. He sat up quickly looking himself over, and yes it was he this time. He gave a heavy sigh letting memories wash over him. He looked around seeing he was in the rubble of what was once a building.
"War again." He sighs outloud.
He knew what this meant, not a peaceful life, nor a good one to find the time to find a solution to this. He got up slowly realizing he was missing a leg. Well atleast it wasn't a fresh cut, he sighed using a broken wooden door as a crutch.
Well here is to the new life again....
Ain't it fun to fo around again.
.......
Lazarus woke up again rubbing his neck. Bo matter who people tell you being hung is awful neck breaking or not. His neck was sore as he sat up.... he was a child? Oh he hasn't been a child in ages.
But if course this wouldn't be normal now would it. He looked at himself in a mirror hung up on the side of the wall haphazardly. So half snake, ok he can handle this. He also could feel he wasn't entirely himself he knew what that meant, and he wasn't happy.
How fantastic he was somebodies.... er oh self preservation, and wow this kid developed this older then normal. He sighed summoning a notebook. He begins to write....
"Life number er 5483 I think, anyways i am currently someone's Oh Thomas's self preservation. So another life where I can't make progress on finding out what and how to stop this is, and also another life where I can't find the other who has the same fate as myself. Anyways I think that's enough for now. This has been Lazarus."
.......
"First the wedding and now this Deceit are tou seriously trying to make Thomas bad ." Patton throws his hands up then crosses them looking at Deceit disapprovingly
Virgil glares at Deceit. "Oh come on snake this is sad even for you."
Deceit shuts his human eye and takes a deep breath. "You know what , fuck it I'm done trying. Thomas you're going to burn yourself out and the stress will eat you from the inside out. Patton you are manipulative and honestly that kicked dog attitude is disgusting. Virgil what the fuck did I do to make you hate me I don't know, but maybe you should look in a mirror and realize you aren't that fucking innocent and joking Patton won't ease your conscious. Logan for fucks sake stop bottling up your emotions this is why nobody listens to you. All you do is sit on a pedestal higher then everyone because no emotions and that is why everyone tunes you out. Roman you're the only one who I can say something positive about you atleast try to get Thomas to do things for himself. With that I'm done I'll be sticking to the subconscious till you kick the bucket Thomas then onto the next life." Deceit flips off everyone and sinks out.
The group sit there in shock trying to recover.
......
Lazarus sighed sitting in his room, it's been a few weeks since he blew his top. God he hasn't gone off like that in ages. Last time God it had to be a few hundred lives ago when he got fed up with the people around him. Well at least now he can start again on theories.
He summons a large whiteboard and begins to drag diagram after diagram trying to connect things to solve this dilemma. He became so engrossed he didn't realize someone entered his room.
"Lazarus? What are the odds?" Roman whistled. "Now I get why you blew up geez what was the life before this?"
Lazarus turned around startled but then smirks. "My my Roman what are the odds, but if you must know I was framed and hanged."
"Oof that is awful on the neck. Anyways now that I know it's you made any progress?"
"No I haven't Roman just like the other time, what about you?"
"Eh besides maybe something that caught my eye on some old tablet in a museum in this world nothing much."
Lazarus sighs making the whiteboard disappear and sits on his bed. "Well any way you could get Thomas to return to that museum?"
"I've been trying actually that was the start of the arguement. I mean the museum is better then going to a family gathering with the worst people in Thomas's family but going is the right thing. Gods I realize why you hate Patton now." Roman falls back and lays on Lazarus bed next to the sitting man.
"Well to the next life then since we obviously won't make any headway this one." Lazarus sighs now laying next to Roman.
"Say since that is most likely the truth, what do you think we'll be in the next one?"
"Maybe women who live on the streets."
"I think we'll be kings again."
"You just miss having a castle."
"Shut up."
"Anyways you should leave don't want to ruin what you got." Lazarus sighs sitting up.
Roman gets up sighing. "Fine I'll be back later on Laz."
.......
Deceit was summoned and that made his slightly off balance. Roman caught him before he could fall or say something.
Roman puts his finger to his lips. "Shush Thomas doesn't know we're walking about. He snuck out of the family gathering and went to the museum, so let's go find that tablet."
Deceit nods following behind Roman.
Not long they stumble upon a massive tablet in a large room devoid of anything else.
Lazarus cracks his knuckles. "Ok this looks promising, oh I haven't seen this language in ages." He summons a notebook and begins to write.
.........
Hours go by as the two begin to compile notes and theories. They don't notice the small crowd of people watching them in amazement or Thomas looking on in horror as the sheer fact others can see his sides is hitting him like a brick.
"Now Lazarus what are the chances that this isn't just a younger version of the tablet we saw before?" Roman sighs thumbing through his notes.
"Even if it was a younger version this version isn't in pieces and on top of that it has more information that we can use. Granted it seems really repetitive. Is it just me or it says reincarnation well over a hundred times." Lazarus huffs.
Roman groans covering his face. "Lazarus I figured it out, it's just a piece on..."
"Roman just stop please I don't want you to finish that phrase." Lazarus throws his notes up in frustrated exhaustion. "Well this was just another dead end."
Roman nods sinking till he is sitting down surrounded by the scattered papers of there collective notes. "Well we always have the next life."
"Don't remind me." Lazarus sighs snapping his fingers and the mess disappears in an instant. He looks around finally noticing the crowd and Thomas. "Well this is just a fuckkng cherry on top of the fuck you sundae."
Roman looks over and looks slightly shocked. "Well shit, uh code fade."
Lazarus nods sinking out, and Roman quickly follows suit.
........
Thomas was pacing his living room. "People saw you. They actually saw you guys. How??? And what were you doing?"
Roman sighs. "Finding another dead end, and I mean Thomas we can interact with the real world what makes you think others can't see us."
Thomas blinks. "Well I mean."
"Also the fact that the majority of us tend to only show up when needed so it wouldn't have come into play. So at this point it was a miscalculation on our part." Roman shrugs.
"You act as if you've done this before." Logan says slowly.
"Never said I haven't, eh it's a long story that you won't believe so I won't share. It gets more frustrating everytime I have to go over this story, so let's just leave it at I'm sorry won't happen again, and la-Deceit was right you needed things to yourself and now you feel better well for the most part." Roman sighs sinking out.
Thomas looks down relaying what he was told.
The others look at each other trying to comprehend what has happened.
#roceit#deceit is a jazzy boy#ts deceit#kid deceit#sympathetic deceit#deceit sanders#roman sanders#thomas sanders#sanders sides#virgil sanders#logan sanders#sanders sides virgil#deciet sanders
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