#the sheer amount of texts I have to check up on in this stupid game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years

Text

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

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archived-mononokeland · 3 years

Text

ask : Yes!! show us any drawings you have. Would love to see any fan art. Do you still open your writing request? If so I want to request headcanon of the brothers reaction when they found mc fainted and sick because this mc is rather hard working and pushover one.

Currently, I have no Obey Me fanart, but I am working on an Asmo piece so I hope I get finished with that!

And yes, my requests are open until I make an announcement that I’ve closed it. Sorry I was late to do this though! I kind of get too carried away and so each character is very lengthy ;;

The brothers’ reactions to finding you fainting and sick from over-working:

[] —— lucifer —— []

Lucifer is very surprised and concerned when he finds you passed out in one of the House’s hallway one afternoon with a temperature hotter than usual.

He picks you up bridal style and carries you to your room and sets you down on the bed.

He notices that you have dark circles under your eyes, more prominent than Belphegor’s occasional ones.

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, making sure that no one sees him.

Just as he was about to leave with a note telling you to text him when you wake up, your eyes open groggily.

Once he let’s you get a grip, he asks you on what made you pass out like that.

Diavolo wouldn’t like to hear that the exchange student fainting like that, surely. But he was very concerned himself.

After you explained that it may or may not be because of the work and tasks, Lucifer felt guilty. When he thinks about it, each favor he’s asked of you, you never really did decline.

He made a note to lessen your work from now one, and that you can tell him if it’s too much for you, “Because it’d be quite the trouble if this happens again, no?”

He insists that you shouldn’t go to school and take a break because, “seeing the exchange student on less than healthy conditions wouldn’t look well.”

But of course it’s more than that, and you knew.

And he does try to take care of you, now doing his paper work in your room on your desk and looking after you.

[] —— mammon —— []

Poor boy, when you collapsed in his arms, hotter than usual, just as you opened the door for him, his first reaction is panic.

He freaks out for a good five minutes before setting you down on the bed.

He thinks you’re going to die, so he just goes out bawling for a while.

Until you wake up, very confounded to see a crying Mammon by your side.

He clings to you and rambles at lightning speed once he found that you actually weren’t dead, leaving you more dumbfounded than ever.

“Wait, Mammon, s-slow down—”

Of course he eventually does, followed by a little tangent on how, “the Great Mammon d-doesn’t care for a little human like you, no, not at all!”

You ignored all that and asked him to explain.

Once you heard his story, you admitted that maybe you’ve been overworking a bit, and that’s why you’ve declined on hanging out with him—or anyone for that matter—and why you’ve passed out.

It took a few minutes for Mammon to finally work it all out, which at that point he huffs and begins to ramble about how stupid Lucifer’s giving you too much work.

You managed to calm him down before he goes and yells at his face on your behalf, and convinces him to help nurse you back to good health.

Which he agreed in less than a second, all red and stuttering.

And while you were sick, he’d go get you anything! Just ask for it and give him a few minutes and he’ll bring it back to you.

And he’s now glued by your side, spending the night with you. He’d even begin making excuses that you were still sick so you two can be around each other.

He also won’t let anyone else come close, cause he was your first, who needs the others to take care of you!?

But oh, when you’re halfway through the healing process, he will drag you to Lucifer to complain that he’d putting too much on the human without you even managing to slip in anything.

In the end, it is thanks to this idiot demon that you were now working less than before.

[] —— leviathan —— []

When Leviathan found you just fainting mid-game while you two were hanging out, he had negative ideas on what to do!

He paused the game and just put you in his bathtub bed, making sure that there was enough pillows at the bottom so that it’s comfortable.

He sees the bags under your eyes and came up with a possibility that you passed out from tiredness. After all, one-too-many late nighters also gave him that experience.

He’d just sit there by the side of the tub awkwardly, not sure what to do.

When you finally did wake up, he’d just look at you with unspoken panic while you get a grip on reality first.

Seeing you wince in pain was also adding to the panic in his mind, so he asks you how you’re doing.

You confessed you had a headache and your throat was dry, so Levi went and got you one of his many bottles of water from his supply of ‘being a shut-in’.

He asked you if you’ve bee sleeping well, to which you answered that you may or may not have been swamped with tasks and work recently.

You can hear him mutter under his breath something about your stupid tasks and why you can’t just chill and play games.

But he quickly snaps back and decides a break would be good for you.

He sets up a comfy place and just have you lie there. Maybe if he finds you awake he’ll let you borrow some of his games. He’ll probably convince you to play something relaxing like the new Animal Crossing.

If you’re in need of food or drinks, Levi will just give you some of his stock of snacks and drinks.

[] —— satan —— []

Satan’s very surprised to find you fainting whilst you were looking for some books in his room.

He sets you down on his bed and immediately looks through his books on human health. After all, something about the circles under your eyes were telling of what you may have.

He reaches the conclusion of lack of sleep and stress, something along those lines.

Uh-oh, detective time! He might gather the information more of why you weren’t getting enough sleep. You did come to his room in hopes to find books of Devildom history and Devildom laws. And sometimes he would overhear you complaining a bit of your tasks and schoolwork, and you did seem to be doing most of Lucifer’s cooking duties…

In the meantime, he prepares a glass of water for you, and a pot of tea for the both of you.

When you wake up, he asks how you’re feeling, and suggests that you take a drink.

Once you’ve finally realized what happened, he finally tells you his theory and whether he was right or wrong.

You nod. He asks if it’s something about Lucifer giving you too much work. Another nod.

That answer alone earns a sigh from him. He tells you to go to sleep and get some rest.

And once you do, he makes sure you’re asleep and goes to confront Lucifer about it.

You stay in his room mostly, the smell of books comfort you. And most of the time, if you’re in trouble of getting to sleep, or just because either of you feel like it, Satan will read you a story with a nice cup of tea.

[] —— asmodeus —— []

Seeing you passed out in front of his door isn’t a scene that he imagined. Picking you up bridal style, he decides to set you on his bed.

The dark bags under your eyes were noticed in a second upon laying his eyes on you. That enough is concerning to him. After all, sleep is crucial to your skin!

He would’ve cuddled next to you, but he needed your consent.

… However, he isn’t that much knowledgeable of how to treat a human like this.

He will probably set up some light fragrance candles for when you wake up.

And also a glass of water, cause hydration is also important.

And when you do, the first thing he does is to scold you for not taking care of yourself.

“Sleep is important for your skin! You can’t be walking around with dry skin, can you?”

You chuckle and explained to him that yeah, you might’ve been too busy with work and school to get enough sleep.

He will have a long talk with you on how to take care of your skin, and yourself in general for a long time, until you promise him that you would.

Other than things related to beauty and looks though, he doesn’t know much about the human body. So if you need something, you have to tell him.

And he will get it for you.

He’ll try all he can to get you back to health.

If you don’t have anything contagious, maybe like a headache, he could cuddle with you to try and soothe it.

He might’ve took a picture of your while asleep. Who could blame him, you’re just too cute!

Once you’re back to your feet though, he will drag you to a salon to pamper yourself properly before you can get to work.

[] —— beelzebub —— []

It happened during Beelzebub’s late night fridge raids. You came into the kitchen to get a glass of water, then just… fainted.

The sheer amount of shock and concern was enough to get him to stop eating and check on your body. Then, he’ll bring you to his room and lay you down on his bed.

Of course, his stomach couldn’t survive for long so he’d grab as many snacks as he could and emptied the fridge, then came back to check on you.

When you woke up, Beel hurried to your side, relieved that you weren’t actually dying or anything.

He asks if you were okay, and you just answered that perhaps you were tired.

The bags under your eyes were no stranger. After all, with Belphegor as his twin, sometimes he’d see them on him.

He pressed a bit further, and that alone was enough for you to tell him that you were tired from working too hard. And the fact of how humans are such fragile creatures dawned upon Beel again.

It took him a while to convince that it wasn’t something that Beelzebub could protect you from with his strength, and that all you needed was sleep.

He’ll let you sleep on his bed as long as you’d like. He’d try to position the pillows so that it would be as comfortable as possible.

And it seems that each time his hands come near you, they’re very gentle. Like he’s afraid that too much pressure might break your bones.

He will try to make soup to help you. Try. There’s no guarantee that he might eat half of the ingredients during the process.

Similar to drinks and food that he brings. Probably about half of what was supposed to be your portion gets fed to Beel.

You promised him that you won’t get this much tired from overworking again.

From then on, you can find him sending texts through your D.D.D., making sure you weren’t overworking again.

[] —— belphegor —— []

He found you in the planetarium with a mind that seems to be half-working, your eyelids drowsing to sleep every few minutes.

And sure enough, just as he arrived to get to his usual napping spot, you passed out.

He took a look of your face. It was an easy assumption for him to make that you didn’t sleep as long as you should’ve.

And so he let you. He would’ve put you in either your or his room but… that was too much energy. So he used the pillow he had all the time and shared it.

Sleeping with you under the stars were a surprisingly elating experience for him. Who knew a human’s presence could do such a thing.

He’d soon follow you in sleeping until you woke up.

In the end, it’d probably you dragging him to your room, his room, or the attic for a more comfortable space to sleep in.

In the matters of food and drinks, Belphegor would probably rely on Beel more, as he’s too lazy to leave your side.

Sleep is the best medicine, so he’ll most likely just convince you to stay in bed and sleep as long as you’d like.

He’d probably slip in with you. To which cuddles would most likely proceed next.

A bit sad once you’re back to your usual self, now that he can’t just spend his day sleeping next to you.

However he will make sure that you aren’t overworking yourself again.

And he will tell Lucifer of your problems via text.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date #obey me scenario #obey me headcannons

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love-we-write · 3 years

Text

Eccedentesiast

Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic) Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188 Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life. Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~! ❤️ ❤️

And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~! ❤️ ❤️

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

Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this.

With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.

At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.

Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends.

Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah.

He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night, quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.

Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it.

He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.

Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister?

What right does he have?

So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.

Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.

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

But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart.

Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception.

‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.

Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend.

He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown.

But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.

‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.

‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break.

Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.

Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.

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

‘Richy, hi.’

Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction.

From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things

‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him.

‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’

Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.

‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’

It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.

‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’

Ah.

Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.

‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’

‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’

Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is.

Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it.

But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business.

And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.

He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.

For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.

He wants to talk about it. He wants to.

‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

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

And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy.

Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…

Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.

You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.

Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance.

You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.

But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.

But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.

Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you.

‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.

It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.

And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him?

Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.

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

That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.

Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.

Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.

It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.

But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.

Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.

He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.

He needs time.

There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.

Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him.

He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime--

In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.

Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----

And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.

He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.

“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.

Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.

“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.

After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.

“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”

And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you.

He hated everything. He hated himself.

You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else.

In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried.

As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through.

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

[EPILOGUE]

Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst.

He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.

“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.

“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?

“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.

“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.

“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.

“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.

“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.

His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.

#duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood richy #duskwood mc

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iaintyourbro · 4 years

Note

We know that the lifestream and highwind scene are the most important part of the game for Cloti. Just wanted to ask, what are your expectations? Like, do you think they’re gonna change it or add something new (if you think so, what are those things)? Those parts are highly anticipated, especially the lifestream scene (i think that’s like every fan’s favorite, well except for those antis haha) ☺️

OKAY! This is the type of question I like! Hello there, anon!

Let’s start with the Lifestream

So, this is probably one of the most popular - if not the most popular - scenes in the game. It is the major twist on the main character, and I don’t think anybody thought it was going to be what it ended up being.

The devs have also said that it is their favorite part of the game. It’s a powerful scene. My favorite part honestly is when the Shinra grunt stabs Sephiroth.. and then Tifa comes to this realization that Cloud WAS there, and he takes his helmet off and the main theme plays. I still get chills after seeing it 50 times, I’m getting chills typing this up - it’s a VERY powerful scene.

Then we get the next scene where Cloud moves Tifa to safety, Sephiroth comes out all pissy because he got stabbed by a kid, and Cloud gets a little brave (with some encouragement from Zack) and goes after him. He’s stabbed. Through sheer rage and will power, he overtakes Sephiroth and kills him.

So what do I think they’re gonna do here... This is my headcanon and my opinion. Maybe in 15 years when this finally comes out I’ll come back and check off where I was right and where I was wrong. All in good fun.

Prior to the whole earthquake, I think the part where they find Cloud and Tifa says she’s going to stay with him will be even more emotional. I think they’re going to build on this scene a bit and I think you’re going to see more cuts to what’s happening in Mideel while the rest of your party is out and about collecting Huge Materia (if they do that, but that’s another post).

I think finding Cloud may be a bit more difficult.

I kinda hope they keep the really goofy doctor for the humor add - it’ll probably be needed for this scene. He’s like Doc Odine from FF8. Extremely quirky. The nurse will have more moments, I think. She had some good lines in the OG.

Okay, so during the earthquake, I think you’ll see something similar, but they’ll almost make it out. You’re going to think they aren’t going to fall in, but they do anyway.

I’m not sure if they’ll do a wheelchair this time - he’ll probably be in a bed, making the escape even more stressful since she’ll need to get him moved to a wheelchair or something.

When they fall in, she’s going to hold on to him for dear life in the physical plane, and you’ll her slowly move on to the mental/spiritual plane.

You’ll hear whatever she was hearing in OG. Since there’s voice acting now, you’ll probably be able to make out some of the voices. You may hear Jessie and Wedge, Tifa’s father, random people she knows. You’ll hear voices telling her bad things and scaring her.

Then, it’ll stop, and I think she’s going to see/feel/hear Aerith here. They’re building the friendship up. I’m thinking that Aerith’s death is going to impact Tifa much worse than any other character in Remake. So this will be comforting for Tifa to see/feel/hear Aerith. They’ll have a moment.

Then they’re going to go to Cloud’s subconscious. This will be very Kingdom Heart-esq because Nomura. This is his time to shine. It was very whimsical in OG, imagine how cool it’ll look in Remake.

I think each “area” will be expanded on. You’ll still have the same main point expanded on.

The Promise scene will have more dialogue and clarification. Tifa will still call Cloud cute, you may see where Cloud may haven’t remembered everything exactly. Some folks think this is where the shooting star will be reintroduced.

Tifa’s house: I think they’ll do the most with this. The English version was so badly translated that it made Tifa look like a jerk to some people and they won’t let it go. They’ll make sure it’s clear here that she didn’t bully Cloud. They’ll probably talk about Tifa’s friends a bit more since you’ll see and hear them. You may see some flashbacks of Cloud getting in to fights with the kids, getting in trouble by other village adults, etc.You may see other moments of their childhood peppered in.

I think they will have his mom pop in at some points as flashes. It seems based on a previous post and discussion, Cloud may remember his father, so we may get to see Papa Strife.

I think you’ll be able to explore Nibelheim during this. It’ll be “dream” Nibelheim, based on Cloud’s subconscious. It’ll change as Cloud regains more of his memories and become more accurate.

I think you’ll have fights during this - some kind of shadows. For all I know, they’ll pull a Legend of Zelda and have you fight “Dark Cloud” at some point before merging.

The second timeline with Zack surviving the Last Stand will probably impact this. If they don’t merge the timelines at this point, then I think that will have some sort of play in this - either the timelines will need to merge, and Cloud will have to “become one” or the “fix” will be reversed prior to Aerith’s death and the timelines will realign naturally.

The Nibelheim reactor scene will follow closer to what happened in Crisis Core, but keep the “Mom... Tifa.... my home....” line from OG. I think they may build on this and make it more emotional.

AFTER Cloud remembers Zack and after he’s “whole” again, Zack will probably pop in too, and so will Aerith. I think if they’re going to change anything and create an “alternate ending” it would be what happened in AC. So, here’s where Zack and Aerith will give him a bit of a pep-talk.

The reunion with Cloud and Tifa will be more emotional and definitely awkward on Cloud’s end. Anybody who was hanging around at this point will disappear. Most likely you’ll get a hug from Tifa. I’m not sure if she’ll call him a “stupid jerk” since it wouldn’t fit her Remake character very well.

They’ll hold hands going back up. They’ll wash up on shore. Now, here’s where I don’t know what way they’ll go. There was apparently supposed to be a scene where Tifa had to give Cloud CPR (think Junon) because he’s not breathing when they come back up. This would definitely add drama...

I think they’ll wash up and wake up before the rest of the party finds them. Then they’ll have the rest of the party show up.

The scene where he talks to everybody will be expanded on. I don’t think Tifa is going to say “You sure are messed up Cloud.” I think it’ll be a more caring line to fit better with how they’ve characterized Tifa in the Remake so far.

Overall, I think the party will be more supportive and you’ll have more dialogue here. Shit, you may even get a Barret hug.

I think Barret will be very flighty like he was in OG, but have more faith in Cloud during the whole thing.

Cid will still be a dick.

Time for the Highwind Scene

Well, due to the nature of this scene, I think that’s why it’s so anticipated. However, this is a T rated game... (unfortunately)... so expectations will probably be on FFX Lake Macalania level. This is really going to be dependent on how extreme or not extreme the ratings board in Japan and the US are at the time. I don’t think, unlike in the past, they cut chunks of game out if one doesn’t approve it. They probably consult with the major countries where they expect a large amount of sales. It was easier to change dialogue and character reactions back in the day. Not so much anymore.

So let’s get to it...

Cloud’s speech telling the party they should go tie up any lose ends will be expanded on. I’m going to be honest, I think anytime you solely had Aerith mentioned at this point in the game, you’ll also have Zack mentioned... I think Zack will have a much bigger part in Remake than he did in OG, and Cloud and crew will see him and Aerith as a team at this point. I could be totally off on this, but I would like to see more Zack and show that both Aerith and Zack were important to Cloud in a big way. I say this because she’s mentioned here in an odd way (”To release her memory”, which I believe the Japanese text is different... as always with OG). I do not think this diminishes Aerith’s importance at all. I think it shows that she DOES have support within the Lifestream, and they’re just touching on that.

The crew will file out and say bye. You’ll be left with Cloud and Tifa... I think you’re going to have more while in the Highwind. They’ll build it up and make the tension unbearable between the two. Remember, at this point, Tifa has already found out all that’s in Cloud’s subconscious... so... they’re going to be awkward up to this point anyway...

Then they’ll go outside. The conversation will have more to it, but will still follow a similar flow. You’ll still have Tifa’s line.

There won’t be a high and low affection scene. You’re going to get one scene here, and it’s whatever the devs feel is the correct scene. My guess is the high affection (like 99% sure here), since it’s the one that’s referenced the most and makes the most sense after The Lifestream. People will also riot if we don’t get “Words aren’t the only way to tell someone how you’re feeling...”

So it’s not gonna fade to black after that. I think part of the goal of Remake is to make things crystal clear with parts of the story that were being heavily argued about... this being one of them.

Cloud is going to bravely approach her - him closing the distance like she did in Part 1.

You’ll get some cuteness. You’ll get a song. You’ll most likely get a kiss. Then it’s going to pan up, fade to black, and may show quick scenes of the rest of the party seeing their loved ones...

I think they’ll hang out there for a while - seeing the stars and all.

At this point, Barret, Cid, and Red come back... but Cloud and Tifa don’t know. I think they’ll see the kissing/cuddling action... and then they’re gonna see them head inside....

I’m not sure if they’ll show immediate reactions here - but they have to react at some point, it’s hilarious in the OG, and I think they can make it even more extreme after some of the lines that were used during Wall Market...

So here’s where I’m really unsure of how they’re going to go. I know some folks think they did and some folks think they didn’t. I don’t think it takes away from the scene either way - so this is one of the rare times I’ll say it’s up to player interpretation.. My opinion is... it might be the end of the world, so my guess is, they were gonna find away to get down.

In the OG, it’s implied that something happened UNDER the Highwind. My favorite video about this is Maximillian Dood talking about getting bruises on the rocks.

I don’t think they’re going to stay Under the Highwind. I think they’ll go inside.

So the question is... will there be a Chocobo Stable scene, like what was proposed in the OG? Will there be cabins on the Highwind? I think when we get the Highwind, whether or not it has cabins will be a hint.

I would find it really funny if they have them go ham in the Chocobo stables. If they do the Chocobo Stables, the Chocobo in the stables will always say “....” when you go in there with Cloud or Tifa.

I’m not sure if they’ll do that or something a bit more... romantic? If they do, you may get a bare shoulders under a sheet scene. THIS IS HEAVILY DEPENDENT on the ratings boards. They were able to do it in Xenogears in 1998, and some of the stuff they approve vs what they get their panties in a bunch over seems to change with the generations.

Whether or not you see anything, they’re going to confirm it through jokes. Your party IS going to comment. They ARE going to know something happened, and each one will have a hilarious comment. Tifa is going to be really embarrassed... like in OG, but Cloud will actually try to comfort her this time.

Overall, this scene will be much harder to twist if you actually play it and listen to the dialogue...

So those are my crazy thoughts. Maybe I should write a Fanfiction or two.

#cloti #cloud x tifa #ff7 remake future parts #ff7r thoughts #the lifestream #under the highwind #ff7r #ff7 spoilers #final fantasy vii spoilers #final fantasy vii remake part 50 #it'd better not take 15 years #i don't want to be too old #my kids will be out of highschool #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #squareenix make me happy plz

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levi-inthesun · 4 years

Text

Two Can Play At That Game, Part 2

A/N: OKAY HERE IS PART 2! There will be at least one more part, and I apologize in advanced for 2 reasons: 1. I had a nerve ablation done on my cervical spine (c 3-5) and am in pain and 2. this is the closest thing to smut I have even written. (Oh, and 3 bc I BaRlEy edited this).. Last, the Ace of Diamonds is the reader’s super-spy name (that I came up with as a last-ditch effort, sue me)

Warnings: SexuAL TENSION, swearing, some angst.bc I’m a hoe for confronting difficult emotions.

Panic began to build in your chest, at least you were pretty sure that’s what it was., you couldn’t breathe and normally you only felt that when you were panicking and right now, you couldn’t breathe.

“Uh,” you started, words not coming, “I uh, I’m sorry Bucky, I only see you as a friend.”

Bucky watched your mouth open and close like a fish out of water for a second before smiling, He leaned in close so that is lips were practically touching your ear. “And who says friends can’t fuck? You can’t deny the tension here.”

You could feel a coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were suddenly aware that you couldn’t breathe for a completely different reason. Then Bucky pushed off the wall and walked away.

“Anyways, I’ll see ya later!”

It took a second for your breathing to get back to normal, but when it did you yelled down the hall after him, “I did not like that! Not one bit! I dare you to try that shit on me again, Barnes!”

The only sound you were met with was laughter.

You slammed the door to your room and locked it behind you.

“Aaaahh!” you screamed into your hands. “What the actual hell. I am so not equipped for this.”

Ignoring the tension you felt in your body you plopped down on your bed and grabbed your laptop, opening up tumblr. Front and center was an update by theactualfalcon.

Hello, my falconettes, I am writing this post just in case I am murdered by my friends, our number one OTP, the Ace of Diamonds and the Winter Soldier. They came across my blog and read yours and my favorite story I wrote, Star Crossed Lovers and I walked in just as she read out the name of my blog. Unfortunately, my face was too telling and they automatically knew it was me. No matter my fate, please understand that I regret nothing. Although, I think I underestimated their power together; they’re too strong, too powerful and I hope and pray to any god who is listening (except Thor or Loki) that they only stay a ship in our dreams.

Yours,

Sam Wilson, the actual Falcon.

You had to cover your face with a pillow to stop you from screaming and laughing too loud. Sam had been serious! He actually wanted you and old man Barnes to bang, at least, he used to. That is when the plan began to form and you send a quick text from your phone. After that, you hopped off your bed and booked it to your large closet and tore open the doors. After rifling through your belongings you found what you were looking for and changed your clothes.

You were working on your hair when you heard your phone ping.

Pepper: I’ll spread the word, is there a reason we should all avoid the compound?

You: Yes. Sam has a tumblr and is apparently the number 1 fan of Barnes and I getting together, at least he was until this morning. I am going to get back at him by making him think we ARE getting together. Figured I would spare everyone else.

Pepper: You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course, it’s for a prank. However, thank you for sparing us. I don’t think the team would survive.

Pepper: Just… don’t catch any actual feelings unless you’re ready for the consequences.

You: Yeah, yeah. Are we still down for a girl's night next weekend?

At that, you put your phone back down and finished getting ready before standing up and smoothing the slinky nightdress over your form.

“Check fucking mate, Banky Burnes.”

Using your skills as a spy, you creep through the hallways of the compound until you found yourself in the empty living room. Quickly, you light the fireplace and pull out the numerous candles you had on hand in essentially every room of the compound you had access too- and you had access to just about every room, even the ones you didn’t have a key too. Once the last one was lit, you quietly asked FRIDAY to play the playlist you had created (named *Seduce Barnes, Fool Wilson*) and skillfully lay your body across the very appropriately placed chaise lounge, which you were incredibly glad you had talked Tony, the drama queen into purchasing.

Just on cue, you heard Bucky clunking through the compound hallways towards you.

“Hey, is everything alright, I smell-” Bucky halted at the entrance to the living room, eyes wide. You could tell he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned with the sheer amount of fire in the room or keep his eyes on your form.

“Hello, James,” you called out to him, voice low.

“H-hey,” Bucky swallowed, pulling his collar away from his neck. “A-are you sure this is safe?”

You smiled slowly, looking up at him from below your lashes, “The fire? Or the spark between us?”

You could have sworn you saw Bucky mouth the words ‘fuck yes’ to himself, but you weren’t positive because the moment he began to step in your direction you began to question your own sanity. Sure, you had seduced hundreds of men for missions and just for the fun of it, of course. And yes, every single time you managed to get them in whatever position you needed them to be in to extract pertinent information or simply to bang someone because you were bored, but that's besides the point. The point was, you were always successful and this was BANKY BURNES FOR FUCKS SAke.

Now, Bucky was standing over you not sure what to do with himself and your face did not even twitch from the mental emotional turmoil you had just gone through.

“So, Barnes,” you purred. “You gonna come down here, or am I gonna have to climb you like the tree you are?”

Internally, you were wheezing at the line you had just used… did you really call BANKY BURNES A TREE?

Bucky didn’t move, so you moved into a kneeling position and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Sam will be here in precisely a minute and a half and if you do not kiss me like you mean to have me, we cannot get back at him like I’ve been planning all damn afternoon,” you tugged harshly on his shirt so he was now nose to nose with you. “Are you in or out?”

You saw all of heaven and hell pass through Bucky’s face as he grit his teeth, “You got me horny to get back at Sam, what the fuck?”

“And you, for earlier, not fun, huh?” You did your best to smile mischievously but you weren’t really sure how well that turned out.

Bucky huffed, “Shit, he’s coming. Yeah, I’m in.”

The second his soft, plump lips made contact with yours, you knew you were maybe fucked.

At first, you simply relaxed into the kiss, although not a part of your elaborate plan. In your head though, you were counting out the seconds before Sam walked through the door.

Then Bucky’s entirely too large hands firmly grabbed your hips, spurring your forwards. You hooked your leg over his hip before flipping him over. Now that he was lying on the dramatic chaise lounge, you planted your knees on either side of his strong hips and attached your lips to the spot just below his jaw and ear and threaded your fingers in his too soft hair, tugging a little too roughly.

And just as Sam walked through the door, Bucky growled in your ear and that dumb coil in your stomach began to grow tighter and this was becoming too real but you couldn’t didn’t want to stop yourself.

Bucky managed to rotate positions so that you were on your back and he was hovering above you, you head hanging over the end of the lounge, ever so slightly, Bucky began to suck wet kisses on your neck and chest as his hands gripped your hips, rucking your nightgown up ever so slightly and you had the perfect view of Sam standing in the middle of the open kitchen, too many bags of groceries falling out of his hands, eyes, and mouth open wide.

“Bucky,” you purred, “We have company.”

Unfortunately Bucky stopped his ministrations and looked up.

“WHaT THE ActuAL FUCK,” Sam began yelling. “I diD NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN!”

Sam began pacing furiously, mumbling to himself, then stopped suddenly pointing at the two of you who haven’t moved a single inch except for Bucky’s stupid metal right hand which had moved approximately 2 inches up, further moving your nightgown, but you weren’t focusing on that, no that was simply the spy in you paying attention.

“YOU SET THIS UP!” He finally yelled, an ‘aha’ in his voice. “This isn’t real,” he stated matter of factly, then picked up his groceries and began putting them away.

You rolled your eyes and pushed the massive man away from you and began blowing out candles, forcing tears to your eyes.

“Sam Wilson,” you said, voice watery, “You ruined a perfect night.”

Then you ran off towards your room, slowing once you were out of sight.

You heard Bucky huff with annoyance once the last candle was out, “You had to make my girl upset?” he ground out before following you.

By the time Bucky made his way to you, you were leaning up against his door, pouting (for effect, and just in case redwing followed).

By the look in your eyes, Bucky knew redwing was peeking around the corner.

“‘M sorry baby,” he said softly, running a finger down your cheek, tracing your jaw. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You allowed a small smile to form on your lips and suddenly felt very warm in the pit of your stomach, “Oh? How so?”

“Well,” he started, settling one of his thick legs between yours while running his stupid metal hand down your left arm, “How about we head into my room and you can find out?”

You willed you fucking head to nod and felt Bucky’s arm wrap around your waist just as he opened the door.

Once the door to his room was closed, however, and to your surprise, Bucky had you pinned to the wall,

“Please let me fucking kiss you,” Bucky growled.

“Do it,” you replied, voice hushed.

Bucky’s lips were not at all the same against yours as they were when you were in the living room. Compared to this, that was practiced and calculated. This was searing. The way his hot lips burned across your was made your heart constrict you and your toes curl and you kissed back with equal force.

You tore your hands from where they were gripping his shoulders to push at his abdomen with enough strength that he knew to move (you knew from enough missions and training sessions that that man wouldn’t move if he didn’t need to). Bucky let you push him back towards his bed but turned before the backs of his legs made contact and instead picked you up and chucked you onto it unceremoniously.

“You,” he started, voice husky, “are going to be,” he said as he climbed onto the bed and pulled on your leg so that you met him halfway, “the fucking death of me.”

From the ferocity in this voice and intensity of his eyes, you expected this kiss to be as the last one, hot and burning. Instead, it was gentle, almost, dare you say loving as his stupid long fingers brushed against your cheek and his body settled over yours, tongues exploring.

“You’ve been really closed off since, well,” Bucky paused, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Since Steve left. And I know you don’t like talking about that, I just wanted you to know that I noticed. That Sam and I noticed.”

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, “We aren’t talking about him.”

“I know, and I mentioned that I know that,” Bucky’s brow was arched quizzically.

“No,” you laughed, “I mean Sam.”

Bucky relaxed back into the bed and rolled his eyes, turning back to you, giving you space to talk about Steve if you wanted.

“You,” you started, poking at Bucky’s ridiculously toned chest, “You didn’t see Steve and I before he left. He was like, well, the brother I always wished I had and I thought it had been the same for him. He was open with me about his past, about Peggy, about you, but he seemed, I dunno, “ you shrugged,”like he knew it was all in the past. I mean, with Peggy at least.”

Bucky nodded and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“I just wish he had told me,” you admitted. “I don’t think I would have been- well, no I still am, incredibly angry with him, I don’t think I would have been had he even discussed the possibility with me, even if he hadn’t come to any conclusion until he was on the platform. I would have been okay.” You felt a tear betray you and slip down your cheek, but at this point, you were well past caring. “I just-” you hiccupped, “I just wish he’d have talked to me.”

Bucky pulled you into his bare chest and wrapped his arms around you. It was in that perfect balance of warmth and weight that you finally cried, six months later.

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always5hineee · 3 years

Text

Hell and Back- Chapter 31: Antidote (Trial 47)

Word count: 1873

Chapter warnings: Mild language and themes

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"[Dare] 47: Create an antidote." She read out in befuddlement. Admittedly, most of the challenges were presented with little to no context, but this one's title was already concerning.

"I assume there's extra text?" Kyungsoo asked. His prediction was correct.

"Yeah, it says, 'One of the players has consumed a poison of considerable strength. The players will be given approximately one hour to create an antidote."

"Wait, who's eaten recently?" Suho asked, looking around. None of the boys said anything. "We're going to find out sooner or later." He continued impatiently. Still nothing.

"Wait, who's the limited power?" Sehun asked. Without even looking at the screen, nearly all of the other boys along with Y/N mumbled,

"Lay." It would make sense, obviously, as his healing powers would have proven more than useful for a situation like this. And without Tao, the results of the limitation could be... less than desirable.

"We can't create an antidote without a recipe. Or at the very least a knowledge of what substance was put in the food." Kyungsoo pointed out. Chanyeol was quick to mention,

"But if we don't know who ate it, we don't know exactly what was poisoned, or what was in it, or anything."

"We could try creating an antidote that would cure most general forms of poison?" Kyungsoo offered.

"Or it could react badly and make it worse." Kai pointed out.

"We could, uh..." Y/N didn't want to say it, as it hadn't turned out so well the last time. "We could ask for assistance. In the search bar."

"We haven't taken the time to think out other options, though." Suho countered.

"It's not like we have a lot of time to begin with," Kris said impatiently. "One of us is dying here, and we don't even know who."

"Just... give me a minute to think." Well, one minute turned out to be more like ten minutes as Suho paced around. Kyungsoo was also deep in some sort of logical process, no doubt convoluted beyond his own understanding at this point. Lay leaned back against the wall, sliding down as his head tilted back, eyes shut. Unsure of where else she could be of help, she chose to go talk to him.

"Hey, uh... everything all good?" She asked, sitting against the wall next to him. Audibly trying to swallow, he nodded.

"Yeah, it's just..." Before he even finished, he was staring up at the ceiling, not saying anything. She wasn't sure if he had zoned out, fallen asleep with his eyes open, or what. Touching his arm lightly, he jerked away from her, looking surprised at his own actions. She figured she'd just startled him, until his arm moved involuntarily a second time.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." She said without a second thought into the matter. "You were saying?"

"Huh?" He tried to think back to the question. "Oh, I'm alright, I just have this splitting headache..."

"It seems like you haven't been feeling all that great." She pointed out. Laughing weakly he shrugged.

"Yeah, well... Has anyone?"

"Fair." Before she could continue, Kris groaned from where he'd been peeling off paint from the wall.

"This is ridiculous. One of us is probably dying and we're just sitting here."

"It could be Lay." Chen pointed out, strangely more perceptive than she was used to. "He's been kinda iffy. Y/N just said so, even." She had forgotten that in such a quiet atmosphere, people were bound to listen in. Still, they weren't wrong.

"Lay?" She asked. He shook his head.

"That's impossible. I barely ate at all, and what I did was given to me and you. I made it myself, there was no difference. If anything, you added extra sugar to yours, so you should be the one that got sick. It's not me."

"It's getting old." Suho growled out of nowhere, receding back into his occasionally-angry personality that only seemed to arise in certain situations. "Everyone is going to tell us everything they've eaten today, and we'll decide from there." Starting in order, most of the boys had eaten breakfast together, meaning they'd consumed the same food. Xiumin had also eaten a roll from the kitchen, so it could have been him. When they got around to Baekhyun, though, they quickly realized what had happened.

"I ate breakfast with everyone, and then I had an extra drink before we left, and then I ate a cookie that I found on the drum kit, and-"

"You what?!" Suho asked, putting a hand to his face. "That is so obviously it, are you kidding me?"

"Why were you even eating food that was just lying around?" Kai asked, visibly disgusted. Baekhyun shrugged, unsure why everyone was freaking out.

"It was a perfectly good cookie."

"Evidently it wasn't, seeing as how it is full of poison." Kyungsoo exclaimed in exasperation. Baekhyun could only do so many stupid things before one of them came back to bite him. It was all the group could do not to be thankful that it was to his own detriment rather than theirs. Still, now they had to fix it. "Is there any of it left?" The man asked in some tiny semblance of hope.

"Why would I leave any of it??" He asked in confusion, nearly driving the other man to madness just out of sheer uncaring regarding the situation.

"Suho. I don't think we have a choice." Kyungsoo muttered under his breath, glancing to Y/N's hand, in which sat her phone. He was insinuating that they'd have to ask the app for assistance. They'd seen what it'd done to lay, and although he was able to help himself, they weren't sure what the repercussions would be this time. Everything always seemed to get worse in this game, especially on repeated instance, so there was no guarantee it wouldn't just make things worse. Still, they had nothing else to go on.

"Baek, are you okay with that?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure, do whatever."

"Do. Whatever." Kyungsoo repeated, trying not to lose it. Finally, he just turned to Y/N. "Alright, ask for the ingredients, I guess." Clicking into the search bar, she asked quite simply, what is the recipe for the antidote? Surprisingly, it did not reply with a recipe, or even a witty reply. It responded, For which player would you like the antidote? Confused, she read it a second time. Showing it to Suho, she asked,

"Does that mean more than one person is sick? Or is it a test to see if we figured it out?" He looked over is as well, but finally just said,

"I guess put in Baekhyun." She did so, allowing it to load as a recipe came up. It was all things that could be found in the vicinity, which made sense. It wouldn't really be a fair game if it was material they didn't have access to. However, as Kyungsoo read over the list, his eyes dimmed in concern.

"These are all pretty complicated reactions. If we get even one thing off, we could just poison him a second time."

"Let's try not to do that." Bakehyun laughed, spinning a pencil between his fingers nonchalantly.

"Is there anything we can do to help? Xiumin asked as Kyungsoo and Suho began walking towards the kitchen.

"Honestly, there's more of a chance of something going wrong if there are too many of us in there. Just wait, we'll handle it." It didn't feel right to do nothing as Baekhyun sat there, potentially dying, much as Kris had expressed a few moments earlier. Still, it wasn't like they had a choice. About thirty minutes into the whole affair, he finally showed the first signs of illness.

His signature obnoxious grin had begun wavering, forehead just lightly beaded with sweat. He mentioned rather randomly that it felt kind of hot with a weak laugh, just before he threw up all over the ground. Chen had wondered aloud if maybe that would have miraculously ejected the poison from his system, but his symptoms only grew worse. By minute 40, he was lying on the ground shivering, but still sweating.

"How's it coming in there?" Kris yelled, obviously trying not to act concerned, but nonetheless kneeling at Baekhyun's side. After receiving no response, Y/N chose to go and check on them. Walking into the room, the two were arguing under their breath about something, which couldn't have been good.

"What's the problem?" She muttered. "No pressure, but we're running out of time. We don't know how long exactly it's been since he ate that thing-"

"It's the last piece." Kyungsoo said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He was visibly stressed. "It doesn't have an amount. They did that on purpose, the fucking-" Before he could complete his list of profanities, Suho cut in.

"We know that if we put too little, it won't work, but if we put too much, it'll react badly with everything else."

"So all you need to do is put just a little bit less than that, right?" Y/N said.

"What do you mean?"

"He needs enough of it that it'll work, but you're afraid of the bad reaction. Do you know which parts of the chemicals will react badly?"

"I- Kyungsoo does, yeah?"

"Then just do the littlest bit less than that, yeah?"

"How are we supposed to calculate that, though? Those are, like, big numbers."

"Suho, your item is literally a calculator. Also, you have a phone." The boys looked to each other as if they were stupid. Kyungsoo immediately grabbed his phone and started typing something in, as she moved back outside to check on Baekhyun. His shaking had increased to be more like spasms, uneven but more violent, subsiding occasionally. Everyone was crowding around him, undoubtedly making it worse for him.

Only moments later, Kyungsoo and Suho rushed in, holding a plastic cup with an admittedly strange colored liquid. Shaking Baekhyun's shoulder lightly, they tried to get him to open his eyes and listen to what they were saying. His expression was a strange mix of sad and gross, saliva glazing the corners of his mouth and all of his skin strangely hot.

"Baekhyun, you need to drink this-" Suho held it, pushing him.

"Get him up." Kai said, rolling him out of his positioning onto his back and trying to pull him upwards. His eyes were fluttering open and shut, but he didn't seem to really know what was going on. They tried to put it to his mouth, but he struggled against them, tilting his head away.

"We're running out of time-" Xiumin mentioned nervously, although rather unhelpfully as well. Finally, Kai reached his hand around the boys face and held his nose shut while Suho poured it down his throat. He had no choice but to swallow it if he wanted to be able to breathe. Honestly, she was surprised he didn't completely pass out. Once he had swallowed, he shivered in disgust.

"That shit was nasty." He mumbled, before falling asleep in Kai's arms. No one knew if he was alright, but they'd have to just wait and see if he woke up.

Go to Chapter 32

#exo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #kpop #Kpop x reader #Kpop fanfic #Kpop fanfiction #kyungsoo #kai #baekhyun #lay #xiumin #kris #luhan #tao #chen #chanyeol #suho #sehun #trials

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

i’m not usually like this | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

if theres anything you wanna see happen in this series, let me know!

masterlist | series playlist

It all started because he asked a simple question. “Do you ever wear anything that isn't black?”

I've heard this question many times in my life, from family members, to coworkers, to strangers in my classes. The context in which Shawn asked me, however, was different than normal; He was pulling off my sweatpants and noticed my dark underwear. I told him to shut up and proceeded to ride him into oblivion.

When I wasn't surrounding myself with a brick wall to keep me safe, when I was not being stone cold and expressionless, I was quite the sex fiend. I'll take it anytime, and just about anywhere. I mean, you already know the story of those three hours Shawn and I spent in my bedroom, knowing that my roommate was home. That's not even the worst of it. We've had sex in his car, my car, outside my car, my living room, his kitchen, a bar bathroom, and a stranger's dorm room.

Listen… Shawn Mendes is a man of many talents. If he wasn't my boyfriend, he would be a fuck buddy.

Anyway, he liked to tease me about my wardrobe choices just as much as he liked to praise me. Sometimes he would ask who I’m about to sacrifice to the dark lord, and other times he would thirst over my black skirt and tights. Even better, sometimes he put on his black floral shirt as an attempt to match my ensemble. But this story is about his teasing.

After going at it for an hour at his apartment (my thighs were incredibly fatigued and shaky), I had to get ready for work. It was easy to get out of Shawn's hold since he was so loose and sleepy. As soon as I was ready, I kissed him goodbye and left his apartment in spirits so high it was considered abnormal for me. How did I know it was abnormal? My manager kept pointing out how chipper I was as I answered phones and helped customers. When people notice, that’s when you know things are changing.

It wasn't until I stopped by Walmart after my shift did Shawn's words sink in. I do wear black all the goddamn time. My closet is 99% black t-shirts, button ups, pants, leggings, and even underwear! The 1% is when I'm slacking on doing my laundry, that's when I would wear white.

That's not to say I don't like other colors. I used to experiment with bleaching my hair and dying it blue or green. I was a sucker for neon eyeshadow, and I was an absolute slut for red lipstick. Things are fluid, nothing is ever set in stone.

I looked through some of the clothing racks, but it’s Walmart, so nothing really stood out to me. Then I found myself in the underwear department. I was trying not to laugh at myself in front of other shoppers, because this was mildly insane. Was I really considering buying Walmart lingerie to prove a point to my boyfriend? There were some decent options after all.

My eye caught a black, sheer nightgown with a matching g-string. I studied it for a minute before deciding that I had a lot of black lace already, and half of it wasn't even intimate apparel. The next set I noticed was a simple sheer bra and underwear, also black. Getting there, but it wasn't enough. There weren't any in my size, anyway. I dug through the racks until I spotted something girly.

The first thing that put me off was that it was pink… baby pink. It was another nightie, but it was made of sheer tulle instead of lace. There were little pink and red hearts all over the skimpy fabric, and it came with a lace thong. It was cute, but it was the least Me thing here. On any other day, I would not be caught dead wearing anything pastel.

That's exactly why I ended up taking it home.

I quickly raced back to my dorm, feeling like I had some dangerous weapon hiding in the bag I was carrying. I didn't stop to speak to anyone I knew, and I was very glad that Shawn wasn't currently on campus. However, he did text me asking me to spend the weekend at his place. It only added to the butterflies in my stomach.

“Stella!” I frantically called once I had shut myself in my room.

She came practically running, bursting through the door. “What happened? Who died? Oh - oh my god.”

I was facing the full body mirror that was leaning against the wall. I tried on the daring piece of lingerie, testing it out on whoever was willing to see me like this. Stella was the only person who had seen me in my underwear apart from my boyfriend. However, I still had the decency to cover my breasts with my hands because the nightgown showed a bit too much.

“You trying to seduce me, ‘cause it's working,” Stella teased, wiggling her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

“Listen!” I turned to face her, trying to justify my outfit choice. “This was probably a stupid idea! It, it was an impulsive buy!”

“Dude, if he sees you in this, you're gonna end up pregnant.”

“Don't say that!” I looked down and twirled my body from side to side, watching the fabric swirl. I felt and looked a little too nervous.

“Seriously, you look hot. Just, y'know, maybe skip the heavy eyeliner and add more perfume. He'll link the scent to the time he had the best sex of his life.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “I'll do the perfume thing, but I can't skip eyeliner. I need something to make up for all the pink I'm wearing.”

Stella nodded. “Yeah, that's another thing. I know this is something you wear when you wanna get dicked down, but you look so soft and adorable!”

“Shit, if you keep saying things like that I just might spend the night with you instead.”

It was night by the time I was at Shawn's apartment. He was in the middle of songwriting, and he wasn't alone. His friend, Teddy, was over. I guess she helped him write sometimes. The two of them were singing to themselves and throwing potential lyrics back and forth at each other. Teddy was frequently writing on a scrap of paper or typing on her laptop. Shawn was strumming his guitar, and sometimes he would glance at me and wink.

I sat silently on the couch and half listened to them brainstorm. I was glad I decided not to leave my Switch at home.

“You're so quiet, is something wrong?” Teddy pointed out. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it.

“Don't wanna bother the artists at work,” I said, keeping my eyes on my intense game of Smash Bros.

“She's like that,” Shawn told his friend. “She'll warm up eventually.”

“That makes me sound like an asshole,” I replied with a chuckle, and then I gasped as my character on screen got knocked out.

Still, I remained quiet as they continued their session. I stayed in the same spot on the couch, curled up and thoroughly entertained. Shawn insisted I sit closer though, considering that I was on the opposite end of the couch from him. He liked my company I suppose, even if I wasn't speaking.

Eventually, Teddy got her things together and left. She gave me a hug, said it was nice to meet me, and then gave Shawn a look that said “have fun you two.”

When we were finally alone, I went into Shawn's room, telling him I wanted to change into my pajamas. It was sort of true, I mean. I grabbed my overnight bag and dashed into the en suite bathroom. Normally, I would have started with taking off whatever makeup I had on, but I only had on some intimidating winged liner and mascara. I needed that tonight.

Fixing up my hair and spritzing on a ridiculous amount of perfume helped keep my nerves at bay. My stomach fluttered when I pulled out the frilly pink item of clothing. This just might be my demise.

Once I was dressed, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and placed my hands on my hips. A wise lady in a hospital drama said standing like a superhero helps increase confidence, so that's what I did. I tried to channel my inner dominatrix, despite the fact that I was probably very far from being just that.

“I'm a strong lady,” I whispered to myself, then I huffed out a breath.

I ruffled my hair one last time before going to the door. I had my hand on the knob, but I could hear the sounds outside this very room. I could hear Shawn's footsteps, I heard the bed creak as he sat down. I heard the sounds of his guitar.

My heart started to race. It was ready to beat out of my chest.

I don't know why the first thing I thought to do when I finally opened the door was to unattractively clear my throat. It's not like Shawn wouldn't notice if I quietly left the bathroom.

He looked up from his guitar, and it took a second for him to process what he was looking at. His eyes lit up, and his jaw went slack.

Awkwardly, I placed one hand on the doorway and the other on my hip. I didn't know what to do with my face, so I slapped on the mock composure. I looked at my boyfriend, unsure if I should say something or not.

“No way,” Shawn finally spoke, a grin forming on his face. He set down his guitar and moved so he was sitting at the foot of the bed. “Come here…”

His eyes were moving up and down my body as I timidly stepped towards him. The look on his face was full of surprise and wonder, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I mean, I was in skimpy attire and none of it was dark. Anyone who knew me wouldn't believe it.

Shawn took my hands when I was close enough, and he shamelessly checked me out. His eyes stuck on my tits just long enough to raise the tension in the room.

I was still finding my voice. I was probably more flustered than he was.

“You're too cute,” he told me, finally looking at my face. “When did you get this?”

“Today,” I said softly. “I don't know, I looked for something black… this was all I could find in my size.”

“I'm really glad you went with this. You're so cute. The pink makes you look almost innocent. Turn around for me.”

A shy smile crept up on my face as I slowly spun around. I quickly came to realize that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted. Wow, and I thought I was going to have power tonight.

“So adorable,” Shawn mused when I was facing him again. “You're the cutest fucking thing ever, you know that?”

My roommate had said similar things, but it hit me different hearing it from my boyfriend. My face was probably redder than the hearts on this stupid nightie, and Shawn could probably see that.

“I don't wanna be cute,” I mumbled, looking down at our hands. “I wanna be sexy.”

“Trust me, you're very sexy. I, I don't even know what to do. That's why I keep talking. God, you're so pretty.” His hand went up and stroked my cheek.

Stop fucking talking and just take me already!

The only way I could express that was by bringing Shawn's hands to my waist, giving him permission to touch me wherever the fuck he wanted. His breathing picked up a little more as he ran his hands down to my lower hips, reaching around to grab my ass.

I delicately placed my hands on his shoulders, and he leaned in to kiss my collarbones. He kept mumbling about how pretty I was, and it made me feel some kinda way. I could feel just how hot his body was getting being so close to mine, it made me even hotter. His hands moved up to my stomach, moving under the nightie, and running along my skin. My body felt so alive and ablaze.

“Your heart's going fast,” he pointed out, placing a hand on my chest. “You nervous?”

I nodded. “More than I'd like to admit.”

He smiled warmly, and then showed me his hands. Seeing them tremble gave me some kind of relief and an ounce of confidence. I made him feel like that. He was turned on because of me.

Shawn stopped me when I grabbed the ends of my nightie to take it off. “No. Leave it on.”

“Really?” I asked. “Won’t it be in the way or something?”

He shook his head, looking up at me with something like desperation in his eyes. “I… wanna do unspeakable things to you in this thing. We're leaving it on. Now get your ass on the bed.”

I would have fainted if he hadn't given me an order.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #if this gets a lot of notes im gonna yell #but i also wont be surprised lmfao #MAYBE there will be a part 2 idk yet #i know what will happen i just dont know if ill write it

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wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 29

Chapter Summary - Tom begins his Christmas shopping before having Alexianna and Lily over for the evening.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @theoneanna

Request if you wish to be tagged

Tom made sure no one of note saw him as he went into the toy store to get what was needed. He was present when Lily made her “Santa list” as well as other items that were shortlisted but scrapped as Alexianna had a firm rule, Lily could only ask Santa for three things. As a result, he knew what other things were on the list, Alexianna had said what was going to be from her, Daniel had given her money to get one from him as he would be working on the rig for Christmas, leaving Tom with the idea to get her the other item on the list.

It was the most expensive of the items on the list, but it was still extremely reasonably priced at a meagre sixty pounds, so he saw no issue. He ensured it was adequately concealed on his departure for fear that he was seen and Lily would find out what it was before Christmas.

He was right to be cautious, as there was indeed a few fans asking for photos as he made his way through the street back to his car, Lily’s present in hand. One or two made comments about the big Paw Patrol present bag, saying their kids/nieces/nephews were the same, others seemed less than impressed, but said nothing regards it.

With that done, he went about getting something for Alexianna. He wanted to get her something fancy or even extravagant. She was working hard, juggling their relationship, being a mother to Lily, her job and her schooling in some miraculous way. Tom often found himself wondering how she did it all. She assisted Lily with her learning to read and write, while also doing work and her own schooling. He sat watching as she had Lily on her lap colouring while she wrote a shopping list to get on the way home from work before collecting Lily from school the next day. She never put pressure on him, respecting his need to work and often space to deal with it. He knew she wore little jewellery, only a necklace she had gotten herself after Lily was born to signify the two of them, nothing else and he did not want to infringe on that. Then he considered a weekend away, just them, but he also knew she would be frantic about Lily, so he contacted Daniel to ask him when he would be back their direction, since he was certain the only one that she would permit take Lily for a night was her brother, but sadly, there was no way for him to tell just yet, as he had his own life in Scotland now, leaving Tom to try and figure out something. He thought of a gift voucher somewhere, but he was worried she would take that as a suggestion that what she had was not good enough. It was a minefield, and he was terrified of insulting her in one manner or another.

One thing Tom noticed was the sheer amount of women that now made up the inner circle of his life. Between his mother, his sisters, his niece, Alexianna and Lily, he was utterly surrounded. He had a few good male friends, but it was funny all the same how many women he had around him. As he bought the rest of his presents, he felt more confident of what to get her and proceeded to do so.

By the time he got everything done, he checked his watch and realised he was late getting home, having asked Alexianna and Lily over for the evening for dinner, with no time to cook, he thought it best to arrange a takeaway when he got there and texted Alexianna to tell her he was slightly delayed.

When he got to the house, he was smiling, having just passed Alexianna and Lily, who were a mere few houses away making their way to his home. ‘Good evening, ladies.’

‘Hi, Tom.’ Lily giggled. ‘You’re so silly.’

‘Good, that means I am making you laugh.’ Tom smiled, cuddling her as she rushed to him. When she pulled back, her mother came into his view more. ‘Hi.’ He looked at her in concern. ‘Are you…?’

‘I’m fine.’ She dismissed, though it was clear something was bothering her. He had spoken to her earlier in the day and everything seemed fine, so whatever it was more than likely occurred in the afternoon sometime. But he knew she never wanted to share her worries too much, be it because she was scared that she would frighten him off or because she did not want to let Lily realise something was bothering her, but either way, she was refusing to say anymore. ‘Good afternoon?’

‘Busy, I had to get a few things sorted.’ He smiled, his glance going to the car or a moment. ‘I did not get a chance to cook, so what about a pizza for dinner?’

‘Can you have one?’ Alexianna asked worriedly, knowing that Tom’s diet was restricted by his job.

‘So long as I do not stuff myself to beyond normal.’ He smiled, putting his arm around her and giving her a small kiss.

In the time since their trip to Suffolk, Alexianna had become slightly more lenient with what Lily saw between them. She had seemingly watched Jack and Emma’s interactions, as well as Sarah and Yakov’s around Lily and indeed Sophie to gauge what would be deemed an acceptable level of interaction between adults in a relationship. It was hard for her because part of her was saying it was not right. There had been an argument as a result of her shying away from Tom with Lily present. Tom stating that such actions implied to Lily that there was a reason for Alexianna to shy away from him and in turn, that he was someone to worry about. Alexianna was forced to concede that it was true and allowed some contact, a kiss or a hug be visible in front of Lily, something Tom and Emma on another occasion, insisted would teach Lily what healthy and good adult relationships looked like, and would set her up with what to expect when she was older. Though Alexianna was none too pleased at considering her daughter as a teenager with a partner, she accepted it was true and that she needed to be more understanding of it.

‘When she is gone to bed, will you tell me what is bothering you?’

‘I am just tired, Tom.’ She dismissed again.

‘Lexi?’ She could not look him in the eye for a moment, and when she did, he could see there was indeed something bothering her. ‘Please.’

‘I just am worn out today, and then someone made a stupid comment.’ She explained.

‘Okay, thank you, Darling.’ He kissed her again. ‘We will talk more later, alright?’

She nodded slightly. ‘So long as I do not render unconscious after my food.’ She smiled. ‘Where will we order from?’ She smiled, feeling somewhat better having confessed some of her woes to Tom, and wanting to be happy around Lily.

Grateful to have gotten her to open up slightly, Tom smiled too, amazed at the lengths Alexianna was willing to go to to ensure Lily had a happy home environment, even if all she wanted to do was crawl in a corner and remain there. ‘Dominos?’

Alexianna scoffed slightly, ‘That is hardly fine dining.’

‘I never said we were going to do such.’ Tom grinned. ‘Are you against it?’

‘Hell, no. I am all for it.’

‘Then don’t complain about a delicious dinner,’ He chuckled.

‘Meateor for me please, tomato base, not barbeque.’ Alexianna asked. ‘And Madame will have some of mine.’

‘Okay, and sides?’ Tom took note.

‘As long as there are wedges, we’re happy.’

‘I will organise that, you get Lily sorted.’ Tom gently rubbed her arm in a show of affection before Alexianna did as he suggested.

With the food eaten and Tom brought up to date on Lily’s life, courtesy of an enthusiastic Lily, she was finally ushered to bed, with Tom as her storyteller, as often happened when they stayed at his before Alexianna and Tom were left to an evening to themselves again.

‘How about we sit down and watch a film?’ Tom suggested as he wrapped his arms around her waist as Alexianna dried the last of the dishes.

‘In a minute, I just want to sort these.’ She leant into his embrace.

‘What’s wrong, tell me.’ He pleased, wanting her to feel better.

She considered not telling him for a moment before conceding that he would probably badger her until she told him. ‘I am getting comments, at work, and at college.’

‘About us?’ She nodded. ‘And?’

‘I knew it would happen, but what they are saying, who thinks it’s okay to go up to a person and say these things? Do you remember when we were growing up, you never dared to speak to people like that?’

‘It is the modern-day, people overuse social media and hide behind little icons on a screen and say all sorts of things that they always thought but knew to never say in public, or else they enjoy the reaction and attention they get from saying these horrible things and then forget that they are no longer behind the onscreen persona, or indeed forget that this not acceptable human interaction or that their right to say what they want excuses them from ramifications.’ Tom explained, pulling her close to him. ‘So, what are they jabbering about. You sleeping with me to get ahead? You’re using me in some other way.’

‘Among other things. I think the words “Sugar Daddy” were used at some point.’

Tom shook his head with a look of distaste on his face. ‘It makes me sound old.’

‘The other is that Lily is yours.’

‘We had those accusations a few times now, that is hardly the most insulting, is it?’ He was unsure whether or not he should be insulted

‘No, that one doesn’t tend to bother me, I mean,’ She smiled slightly. ‘Of all the men to be her father, I wish you were a candidate.’

‘Then what about it?’ She looked at her hands. ‘Lexi?’

‘Apparently, I am punishing you, for the whole Taylor Swift thing, and you are being forced to take me back and I am holding you to ransom with our daughter. I should just stop being vindictive, that you deserve a decent woman, that I was jealous of Swift and that is why I forced your break up.’ She stated, her voice low as she recalled the nasty words she had been forced to listen to. ‘I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but...she was actually an employee there, and if I went off on her….’

‘You look bad and get punished,’ Tom nodded, understandingly. ‘I am so sorry, Lexi.’

‘You did nothing wrong.’

‘No, but you are working so hard, for you and Lily and my part in this is why people are being like this to you, you don’t deserve it.’

‘It’s just hard because to give the same back, I am bringing myself, and in turn us down.’

‘“Us”?’

‘Well, yes. I mean, it doesn’t say much for us if I am acting like someone from Shameless, screaming at people like trash.’

‘No,’ Tom agreed, kissing the top of her head. ‘Thank you for keeping your cool.’

‘Well, I would be trying for the wrong career if I could not keep my cool.’ She laughed.

Tom chuckled. ‘That’s true.’ He kissed her again. ‘I got Lily’s Christmas present today.’

‘Tom, don’t be worrying about things like that.’

‘Hey, you said I am allowed get her something at Christmas. I love spoiling Sophie and I want to spoil Lily when I am allowed to, so please.’

‘I just don’t want you to feel like we want things from you.’

‘I don’t think that. I think you both deserve nice things.’

‘Please Tom, I don’t want anything off you.’

‘I know, that is why I want to give you something because you don’t expect it. You were always like that, I remember you giving out to Emma.’

‘Those were Spice Girls tickets, completely over the top.’

‘You went though.’

‘It was the Spice Girls, of course, I went, I am not an idiot.’ Alexianna laughed before smiling at the memory. ‘It was so much fun.’

‘I still cannot Mum let Sarah take you both.’

‘We were eleven and Sarah was eighteen and we were well behaved. You on the other hand….’

‘We won’t talk about me.’

‘And your little stunt with the Drama club and getting drunk when….’

‘You know way too much.’ Tom commented.

‘Sounds like a threat when you say it like that.’ Alexianna laughed.

‘Come on, let’s relax.’

#Life is a Game of Risks #chapter 29 #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston

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transformers-why · 6 years

Text

Sickness' Suck, But They Don't!

Plot: You, the only human on the Lost Light, have gotten sick. @kalechips9 would like to see what Whirl, Rung, and Ratchet might do to take care of you!

(Whirl x Human! Reader) (Rung x Human! Reader) (Ratchet x Human! Reader)

Hope these are to your liking! (Long Post) Lemme know if there are any important typos!

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

Whirl

- The moment you let out this ungodly sounding cough, Whirl was curious.

- "What was that???"

- "Ugh," You would sigh, "I'm getting sick."

- "Oh." To be honest he was hoping you had developed some sort of sonic wave that could kill bots or somethin'.

- And while he wouldn't be concerned over a bot feeling a little under the weather, he doesn't know a lot about organics.

- Sick could mean death for you guys, right? Like, sick -> disease -> kaput. Right?

- Whirl is on high alert, even if he doesn't show it.

- But he does decree himself your protector against germs until you're better.

- Translation: Whirl is making you a fort in his room that you're gonna stay in until your not feeling like death. No questions, no protests.

- Like, he doesn't even tell you until you've made it to his habsuite and collected mass amounts of blankets, human sized furniture, and all the icky-sicky stuff (and fluffy stuff) you need to get improve your health.

- "Now can you tell me what we're--" *loud, dramatic sneeze* "--doing?"

- "Quarantine, silly!" He exclaims.

- You wish you didn't know what that meant.

- To be honest though, it was nice being under Whirl's... care? It only lasted a week, but it was comfy.

- Whirl spent a lot of his time with you, learning random Earth games and watching Looney Tunes and such.

- But when he wasn't doing that—so, 40% of his time—he was guarding the door. Anytime someone asked he would just say: "I have fragile company and you aren't allowed to infect them." or something like that.

- The food was nice too, apparently Swerve hooked you up when he learned you were sick.

- "Hey, Swerve just stopped by with some soup to help with your stomach..."

- "Aw, cool! Tell him I say thanks, okay?"

- Swerve didn't stop by with soup.

- Whirlybird is still low-key concerned when you're back in action.

- Like, for the next week he's basically staring at you constantly to check for any sign of sickness. Cyclonus gets a little concerned that Whirl's going to hurt you.

- But that suspicion is completely demolished when he notices Whirl reminding you to wash your hands, "Ratchets orders".

- Before you two go anywhere he makes sure the place was sanitized and stuff, just so the bug doesn't kick you down on your way to full recovery.

- Of course, you don't know any of this.

- Until you thanked Swerve a couple days later and he was completely clueless on what you were talking about.

- After piecing things together and processing that Whirl did all that for you, it was hard not to burst into tears from sheer awe and thanks because ohmygoshWhirlsasecretsweetheart

- Only when it comes to you, though.

Rung

- All I can say is that you are so lucky to have the universe's kindest, most understanding bot taking care of you.

- The minute he learned you were sick was literally a day before it happened. He saw every sign after reading through some organic medical books and getting a bit of advice from Ratchet.

- So when you stumble into his office, blanket wrapped around you and looking miserable, he can only frown and ask if you're alright.

- "Nooooooo...." You drone with a sluggish voice.

- So carefully, that way he doesn't pick you up wrong whilst you're wrapped in the blankets, he carries you a couple rooms over.

- Where he has a bunch of medicine set up on a small table and blankets and sick food and water and ginger ale and cartoons and----

- Your heart is pounding because you can't believe he thought of all this.

- But since you're kinda in a daze from being sick all you can manage is an "Awwwwww, that's so niiiiceeee..." in a very, very sickly and stuffy tone.

- Nonetheless Rung's heart soars when he learns that he's taken the right course of action.

- He does have patients during the day though, so for most of the day he has to leave you be. Rung figured rest and alone time would be better for you anyway.

- Although he does check in on you at least six times a day, to see if you ran out of anything or need assistance.

- He always saves a time halfway through the day to stop by and make conversation too, so you don't get too lonely.

- Rung will bring simple games, or maybe a ship to tell you about while you're not feeling well. He figured that telling you stories and playing easy games might help your mental state: make you feel less miserable.

- He's concerned, but actually isn't very worried you'll die or anything from being sick. Reading up on everything and checking in with Ratch kinda dulled any knife that was directed towards the "You're going to die!" idea.

- But he takes up the recharge slab in the room, incase you need something during the night.

- Because of Rung you recovered in about 2-3 days!

- And after sanitizing the room you made it you and Rung's peaceful hangout spot.

- While Rung is concerned you may fall ill again, he's aware that you're both prepared for when that time comes up. He's not too worried.

Ratchet

- Let's be honest when you walk into the medical bay all sickly at first, he assumes it's a joke and brushes you off.

- And then you go into a coughing fit that's so long it brings tears to your eyes and makes your lungs feel dry and makes Ratchet feel guiltyyyy

- And talk all you want, but I guarantee that Ratchet has your room about two doors down from the medbay.

- The first thing he does is sigh of course, and then he gently picks you up after he's done with a patient and takes you to your room

- "Come on, then." He would say in a tired tone.

- "What're you doing?"

- "Giving Starscream a grammar lesson, what does it look like? I'm taking care of you."

- Well obviously he's feeling fine.

- When he takes you to your room and sets you on the bed, it's a little surprising to see him walk over to a high shelf—that you didn't notice—and suddenly pull out a couple of bottles.

- "Here, one of these should help with your cough and sniffles, the text is too small for me to read." He makes you pick out the right one, and while you do that he disappears.

- Upon return the medicine kicked in, and Ratchet can't help but give a soft smile seeing you a little better.

- "Where'd you go?"

- "To get you this." He sets down a bag containing any food you may need for a cold, and continues saying that he's willing to help any way he can.

- But doctors orders are to get rest and eat. He'll help you, but first you're gonna do everything in your power to recover. He has other work to do you know.

- However still expect him checking every hour or so.

- He's a doctor so he is a little paranoid about you, the only organic on the ship, falling ill.

- Ratchet's acting pretty nonchalant but it's hard not to notice the concern in his gaze when he checks on you.

- But he is totally that person that would come in only to see you asleep, walk up and pull the blanket to your shoulders, kiss your forehead and leave.

- He apologizes to you when you fall asleep, about being so rude and not believing you were sick at first.

- No ifs, ands, or buts though because you are not leaving your room or the medical bay until you feel better!

- Those are the only places you're allowed and the only people allowed to see you is the Doctor Squad™, Ten, and Ultra Magnus.

- He'd allow Drift to see you but he's concerned that Drift'd try some ritual to heal you.

- He's not wrong, you turned King Religion down on his proposal when he snuck into your room to say hi.

- In Ratchet's care, it's a 4 day recovery, and a pretty comfy one.

- Although Ratchet can and will be paranoid about you getting sick again, and will bring back the "iiiip-yip-yip!" from Earth to shush and scold you about getting sick in the first place.

- But you'd hug his foot anyways, him trying not to smile, and give him a thank you. Because Ratchet always does the best he can, even if he's not good at showing his concerns in a positive light.

- Translation: He will go through and worriedly list all the bad things being sick could do to your body. And unless you fill him in on the common cold he will not calm down.

- Do expect him to be recharging in your room for the next couple weeks so you don't do anything stupid and are assured to get rest and stay healthy.

- You never got sick again on the Lost Light.

- Ever.

- It just didn't happen.

#Ratchets is a bit longer but i rly couldnt help it #hes my favorite and this is the first time i got to write for him!#thanks for the headcannons ask #9:42 wowwow look at that #after this lil break maybe ill be able to work on all those stories again #thanks for readin'#ratchet #rung #whirl #x reader #reader insert #headcannons #mtmte #ll #lost light #tf #transformers

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modlisznik · 6 years

Text

a few thoughts about Detroit

...because I just finished and have somewhat mixed feelings I need to get in order. in points, so it won't be a Wall Of Text.

SPOILERS! (obviously)

what I liked:

Connor (duh). I wouldn't mind if his parts were cut out and made into separate game. It'd be a better game. It shows that Cage feels the buddy cop vibe, both Connor and Hank were fleshed out, interesting and likeable. I mean, they were both made of cliches, obviously, but their story was a police movie story, no Serious Shit TM involved

I wonder, what part of this comes from the actors who played them; both Clancy Brown and Bryan Dechart did a great job

also I think that the investigations made the fullest use of having the android as your protag. I loved these parts - the crime scenes, questioning, reconstructions - it was fresh, fun and interesting. It really gave me the feelings that Connor can do things that human policeman couldn't - it made sense to use an android for telling this kind of story

also, Connor is adorable (duh)

the mission of hijacking the broadcast was pretty nice, fast-paced; it gave GTA V vibe, and I'm saying this as a compliment

Sumo was nice, obviously

timers. I usually hate timers in games with the passion of thousand burning suns (I'm looking at you, optional challenges in AC II), but here game gives us just enough time to feel the pressure, but without making these parts too difficult or unfair; it's all nicely balanced

the sheer numbers of possibilities. Whatever else I'm about to say about the quality of the writing, the scope of the script is truly impressive-

some locations are really nice. I especially liked, again, the broadcast tower

Now what I didn't like:

there's close to none really interesting characters here, apart from protags. Even Alice has no personality of her own; she's just an Innocent Little Girl. There are no people here, just tropes

predictability. Most of the plot-twists and big revelations one can see from 100 km away. You meet a bitter woman unwilling to speak about her past? Wasn't she possibly a sex worker before? Bam! Obviously. Fugitives are on a bout, about to cross a river and reach Canada, and are speaking about their plans for the future? Oh geez, do I see a death flags raised? Yep, they die soon after. Rinse and repeat

the dialogues. The amount of cringe is unbelievable. If David Cage wants you to know that a person is bad, he'll make them speak in such cartoonishly evil ways that you'll want to bite your gamepad in half. The bad cop at the beginning? He's mean, and he's making faces at you, and he's also ready to torture a suspect, because he's eeeevil, nioh nioh nioh. And he pales in comparison with the FBI guy, who's so evil he seriously should wear a black cape and turn into a blue blood-sucking vampire, who also hates kids and puppies. We don't want you to feel confused about who's a good guy here, player

speaking of which - the protesters harassing Marcus at the beginning. Shadow have mercy, the scene was so cringe-worthy I nearly died of a secon-hand embarassement at the thought that David Cage wrote this and decided it's good

same with Leo taunting Marcus by calling him a pussy. SERIOUSLY. You're calling him a piece of plastic yourself, man, why are you trying to provoke him by offend his non-existent masculinity?

speaking of which - David, my buddy, my man, don't do this. Stop. Think. How are your androids even working? They have the same physical capabilities as humans of the same size; they aren't stronger nor faster and they stop working in 0C (!!!). The only advantage is that they don't get tired and are water-resistant. David, my man, your androids are shit. Nobody would want a robot like that. Why Kara, a housekeeper, isn't strong enough to tear that wooden plank off the door? You're telling me that my cool robot assistant would need my help to lift up my washing machine?

also, how come that Marcus knows how to fight? He was a personal assistant, not a soldier. He should have an advanced medical software, to help his ill employer, not some kung-fu shit. And if it's a common feature of androids (David, my man, why would it be?), that why Kara can't fight shit?

also, if banging their head on the desk is enough to kill an android, then how's that medical-shaman lady at Jericho even functions, having her whole head empty? David?

why Connor bends in half from getting punched in the stomach? Connor - you don't feel pain, you just said this yourself. You have no stomach inside, nor diaphragm. Do your androids have the same reflexes as humans, David? Can they be kicked in the balls?

I just thought about this - Marcus needed a flashlight in Jericho. Your androids needs an additional source of light in the dark. My smartphone is more technologically advanced, David. Your androids are shit

David. My dude. Why your androids are sexual. Why everyone's assuming North is Marcus girlfriend. Why the game made me unable to opt-out from this nonsense

David. You creep. You slimy fool. Two lesbian sex-workers, running out of the brothel in their undies and high heels? After killing an abusive client? I see what you did here. You're not progressive nor thought-provoking, you're exploitative

David. For fuck sake. Locking Kara in the basement, in a bdsm-looking machine designed to made her a slave? I see what you did here. You're disgusting. I was livid playing that part and want to never repeat this again

David. My man. Breathe. Think. The scene with the female android in the Kamski's house. Why. How. What were you thinking. I cannot even find the words to express how cheap, corny and pathetic that was. Grow up, David. Srsl. Grow up

speaking of Kamski - holy shot, did I wanted to punch him in his stupid face. Cringe is strong with this one

I checked out the survey in the Extras; one of the questions was "which choice was most difficult for you to make: 1) choose between a revolution or a peaceful protest as Marcus, 2) choose to shoot the female android at Kamski's or not as Connor, 3) accept Alice as an android or not as Kara. Hmmmm... looks like one of this things is not like the others. Why Alice being an android is supposed to be a problem?

Ok, I think I vented enough. I think I'm disappointed of how cheap, unimaginative and sometimes downright insulting the writing in this game is. I'd really wish for a Connor Only Edition of Detroit to happen, so I wouldn't have to deal with the rest of this nonsense anymore.

(and I didn't even touched the "what it means "being alive" in the world of Detroit". and I won't)

But hey, I actually finished this game! It means it wasn't so bad, right?

#i'm not angry just disappointed #David Cage you fool you did it again #detroid become human #dbh #shameless venting

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years

Text

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 3]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Hello again lol -sweats- school and work are kinda kicking my ass right now, but I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! <3

AO3

The last time Tsukishima had spent this much time looking in the mirror was never.

Never.

He'd never wasted such valuable time with something so unimportant. Mornings were for coffee, for breakfast, for the basic hygiene required for him to drag his ass out of bed and onto campus for four hours of lectures. Basically, amidst all his studies, Tsukishima didn't have much time for fashion. If he did enough to not look like a complete slob, then what was the point of trying harder?

Today there was a change in that usual mindset, though he hardly welcomed it.

"Tsukki, what are you doing?" Bokuto's voice drifted over from the sofa, where he and Akaashi were carelessly lounging before heading out on their own date.

They made it look so damn easy. Bokuto wasn't even wearing matching socks.

Tsukishima hated him.

"Nothing, just zoning out," he muttered in response, and it wasn't the most unbelievable answer. Tsukishima tended to get lost in his thoughts, and he valued peace and quiet, so Bokuto should've been used to it.

Damn bastard always had to be perceptive at the worst times.

Bokuto's eyes were wide as he stared, no doubt because of how Tsukishima had been standing in front of the mirror scrutinizing his oversized wool knit sweater and skinny jeans for the past half hour. The colors were starting to offend him, the grey and black looking too bland and dreary for a night out. However, it seemed he was stuck with it.

It wasn't his fault though alright?

Bokuto was still unaware of Tsukishima's plans for the night, more because of his own pride than any actual secrets he needed to keep. Kuroo's jokes might've been illegal, but hanging out with him certainly wasn't. Why Tsukishima couldn't own up to going on a date mostly had to do with Bokuto's likely overzealous response, and Tsukishima's own nerves.

This date was another test, nothing more. No need to make a big deal out of it.

Yet, the traitorous voice in the back of his head whispered, and Tsukishima politely told it to fuck off. Of course, it didn't stop his palms from sweating, or his rapid heartbeat. The light twist of excitement in his gut remained, his face felt hot...

Get a grip.

It was a first date, and it may be the only date. He'd meant it when he'd decided to get to know Kuroo first before submitting to the whole soulmate delusion, and he wasn't quite done judging. It's how he was, fucking sue him. And until he'd properly decided on how to feel about Kuroo, his friends would be kept in the dark.

Which was why Tsukishima couldn't allow himself to be stupid enough to try on multiple outfits in front of them (no matter how much he wanted to, because seriously, what was he thinking), for that would surely be a red flag. So he'd simply had to accept his fate, hoping his choice of attire ended up being acceptable.

He was having his doubts, but again, there was no turning back. Unless he somehow spilled something on his current outfit, which could look real if he played it off well enough...

Wait.

At that, Tsukishima glared at his own reflection, hoping to burn through the glass. If only he'd been born a shape-shifting chimera, then maybe he'd just be able to burn his entire apartment down, and wouldn't be forced to fret over his outfit any longer.

Okay, that was a bit extra, but still.

He shouldn't even care enough to think about trying on other outfits, shouldn't care enough to pick off the fraying strands of his sweater, or debate which jacket to wear over it.

(God, what fucking jacket even goes with this?)

It didn't matter. They were just going bowling anyways. Fucking bowling. There wouldn't be time for Kuroo to judge Tsukishima's outfit too much. Right?

"I think your bomber jacket would look nice with that Tsukishima," Akaashi's steady voice shattered through his bubble, and Tsukishima jerked anxiously as he met the other's gaze. Ah, a mistake of course.

Those grey eyes were fixed on him like an attack dog, calm but intense as they stripped Tsukishima of any excuse or lie. They bored into him as Akaashi could read his mind, like he could freeze anyone in their tracks with the sheer amount of knowing his eyes held. Tsukishima couldn't move, and in that exact moment, he knew Akaashi knew.

Sometimes, Tsukishima wondered if he too wasn't some kind of magical being, but so far no further evidence had surfaced.

Tsukishima swallowed, glancing at Bokuto as he obliviously traced circles the exposed skin of Akaashi’s abdomen, his attention on some commercial rather than Tsukishima. He looked back at Akaashi, but by then the spell was broken.

"Just saying," Akaashi finished, shrugging off Tsukishima's panicked expression like it was nothing. He simply turned back to the television as the game show they'd been watching returned, having said what he'd needed to.

At least Tsukishima didn't have to worry about Akaashi telling Bokuto about the date, at least not yet. If they continued, he didn't doubt Akaashi would be alright keeping things from his boyfriend much longer.

Damnit.

Tsukishima stomped into his room, tearing his closet open only to find his dark bomber jacket hanging neatly right in his face. Like it was waiting for him.

Fuck you, stupid jacket.

Still, he grabbed it, not bothering to pick up the hanger as it flew to the floor, and fuck it all.

He stood in front of the mirror one last time, pretty much done with existing altogether. Akaashi was right. It looked perfect.

Kuroo was not fifteen minutes early.

He was definitely not parked outside of Tsukishima's apartment fifteen minutes early because he'd been too excited for their date, and obsessed with being right on time. He was surely not parked outside of Tsukishima's apartment fifteen minutes early because he'd experienced a massive moment of anxiety, convinced something tragic would happen if he didn't arrive ahead of time.

No. Certainly not.

Kuroo was twenty minutes early.

He groaned as his hands gripped the steering wheel, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his car was clean even though he'd just checked before leaving his own apartment. Hell, he'd torn apart his car this morning, ridding it of old soda cans, receipts, and suspicious pieces of debris, not to mention a bag of fast food wrappers which he had no memory of even purchasing. Needless to say, when he'd opened it (since he was nothing but a lowly fool with no common sense), he'd nearly barfed. Then he'd exploded a lysol bomb all over the interior of the car, and then used air freshener to mask it when he'd deemed the chemical smell too strong.

Then there was vacuuming the seats, and washing the outside of his car, something he hadn't felt the need to do in weeks (who cared? It was college, who had money to wash their car all the time?) due to time and general laziness.

In short, the inside of his car looked like he'd driven straight from the dealership, and he still wasn't convinced. What was wrong with him?

Tsukishima. That was what was wrong with him, yet it felt so damn right.

The blond was so fun to be around, and after their study date he'd been craving more and more of the other's time. There were so many questions he'd yet to ask, so many answers he wanted to know.

Kuroo had never felt so weirdly taken by anyone this much before. The snark, the bite, coupled with the beauty and brains really just made Tsukishima the perfect package already, but it felt deeper than all that. The blond's eyes lit up when he spoke about the things he loved, his face flushed when he felt he'd gone on too long or if Kuroo stared too much. His eyes spoke volumes when he allowed them to, and he desperately tried to keep them quiet, but Kuroo saw and heard.

And that was what pulled Kuroo in, the need to share with Tsukishima and be shared with. He wanted to be around Tsukishima more than anything else. And destroy him in bowling, but that was more of a side goal.

So with that in mind, and no pride to speak of, he texted Tsukishima.

>> so would it be totally awful if I was here early

Kuroo glanced at the clock, thankful he'd managed to kill five minutes obsessing over his car. Now it really did look like he was only fifteen minutes earlier, very superior to twenty minutes. He was so in the clear now.

Kuroo shook his head at himself, already regretting the text as his stomach twisted with nerves. As if Tsukishima would up and cancel the date because of this.

...would he?

Kuroo's leg bounced as the three dots appeared under his text, telling him Tsukishima was typing up his reply. Whoever thought of those was a shit bag.

Kuroo felt like he'd been waiting hours when the dots finally stopped blinking, and he held his breath as the reply came in with a bing, the words strong enough to send him to the moon and back with joy.

<< Not necessarily.

The car ride remained silent all the way up to when Kuroo parked, but it was more from a strange brewing of barely contained excitement more than anything else. From the moment Tsukishima had stepped out onto the sidewalk, strolling up to the curb Kuroo was parked on, they'd been done for.

Kuroo looked good, stupidly good, in his thrown together clothes (okay, throw together was a bit harsh, but jeans and a sweatshirt didn't strike Tsukishima as all that fancy). Yet his hair was wet, and a bit wilder, showing how Kuroo must've tried to make it look presentable before coming. The car the was clean, smelling perhaps a bit too much like the apple air freshener hanging on the mirror, and the subtle changes were noticeable. The fancy watch Kuroo had on his wrist, the faintest smell of cologne, and the blinding sparkle in his eyes.

It was too much for Tsukishima to deal with honestly, because he felt important. Far more important than he thought he deserved, considering to Kuroo he really was nothing more than a brand new friend at most. Sure, there was obvious attraction, or else Kuroo wouldn't have asked him out at all...right? But otherwise, they weren't terribly close.

They'd been on one sort of date, and now there was this...so why was Kuroo acting like Tsukishima deserved the very best right from the get go? Right from the damn car ride?

Even though Tsukishima knew the truth, Kuroo didn't. He wasn't a potential soulmate to Kuroo, he wasn't some possibly destined lover (though Tsukishima always had his skepticism on that subject) and it sort of stung when he thought about it. It was irrational, since Kuroo had no reason to treat him with such seriousness, but emotions were evil like that.

But then shit like this happened. With Kuroo getting out of the car to greet him, to beam at him and tell him he looked great. To stay too long at street signals because at every red light, he couldn't stop himself from looking right at Tsukishima.

Kuroo was acting like Tsukishima was oh so special, and the worst part was, Tsukishima couldn't find it in himself to hate it. In fact, his heart sped up every time those eyes drifted to him. His face felt hot, his body felt light, and it didn't take him long to realize that he hadn't looked away from Kuroo either. Not once since they'd left his apartment.

Like he said, done for.

And now they'd have to wade out of this charged silence together. Awesome.

Kuroo cut the ignition to the car, and only then did Tsukishima actually look at the clock. He blinked in confusion, noting how it had taken them around twenty minutes to get to the supposed bowling alley.

Not too far by any normal standard, but for living on a college campus, it struck him as odd. There were definitely bowling alleys near or even on campus, Tsukishima was sure of it, and those would've taken less than ten minutes to reach.

He looked outside, noting the distinct lack of other cars in the parking lot. There were three total, to be exact, including theirs.

Fishy.

Like, hella fishy.

Like, Tsukishima hoped his supposed soulmate wasn't a serial killer kind of fishy. Goddamn. Tsukishima turned back to Kuroo, who was biting his lip as he analyzed the steering wheel. Okay, so he looked nervous, that was sort of a good sign. Sort of.

Tsukishima thought of all the best ways to start a conversation in the scenario he was now in, but none of them felt particularly worthy, so he decided to rely on his usual bluntness. Fuck it.

"So are you going to stuff me in your trunk, or are you trading me to some kind of mafia lord as payment for your sins?" Tsukishima deadpanned, keeping his face as neutral as possible while Kuroo all but choked.

God, Tsukishima was going to have so much fun with this, and he didn't even feel bad. He stared at Kuroo, accusatory, his hand placed on the car handle as if he were about to flee.

(A side note: Tsukishima did not like theatrics, this was simply a rare exception, and he'd make that excuse until he died dammit.)

Kuroo stopped and attempted to start a sentence a total of five times, until eventually slumping back into his seat. His eyes flashed with something akin to mischief, before he schooled his expression into the most serious form he could manage.

It was borderline hilarious, if only because Tsukishima had never seen Kuroo attempt to look anything other than sweet or suave.

Unblinking, Kuroo sighed, taking his hands off the steering wheel as he stared right at him.

"I mean...I don't think you'd fit in my trunk," Kuroo finally said, only elaborating when Tsukishima arched a brow. "You know, tall. You're tall. I would have to do a lot of extra work to cram you back there, and I didn't bring gloves so--"

"So your fingerprints would be all over me," Tsukishima said with a nod, completely understanding. Then he squinted, and afterthought crossing his mind. "Change of clothes?"

"Nope, unfortunately not," Kuroo replied, shaking his head. "All that blood, there's no way I'd come away clean. Now, dumping you in the lake..."

"Too conspicuous, you'd have to haul me at least half a mile. You should've parked closer," Tsukishima replied, keeping his voice as steady as possible. It was much easier said than done, a snort nearly slipped out when Kuroo looked positively thwarted.

"Damn, that's not a good idea then huh?" Kuroo slammed his fist on the dash, concealing a smile in his shoulder as he turned away.

"You would be pretty stupid to try," Tsukishima concluded, already feeling the laughter begin to bubble in his throat. He wouldn't crack first though, he refused to. "So, gang debt?"

Kuroo spun back to him dramatically, his eyes desperate.

"I needed the money, this was the only way they'd take me seriously," Kuroo said, his hand clenching as he too fought to hide his laughter. "Please, you have to understand, my dog is very sick--"

At that, Tsukishima finally broke, letting one very unattractive snort get past him before he could clamp his hands over his mouth. "Seriously? I'm not worth more than your fucking dog? You couldn't even make it like...your grandmother or something?"

"Hey, Neko is an important member of my family," Kuroo continued, his voice cracking as laughter seeped into his words. "He's been with me all my life and--"

"You named your dog Neko?"

"My mom said I could only have one pet, a dog or a cat, but I wanted both," Kuroo explained, hands gesturing wildly like he was spitting some sort of universal truth rather than a stupid childhood story. "So I compromised. I got a dog and I named it cat, because I'm a goddamn genius."

"Oh my god--"

"I was six."

Tsukishima's face was in his lap now, unwilling to show Kuroo how fucking breathless he was because what the fuck. Kuroo was full on cackling beside him, giving up the ruse at last as he clutched his stomach, and it was probably the most obnoxious noise Tsukishima had ever heard. Still, he couldn't stop laughing, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this amused. His face hurt as he tried to get ahold of himself, to school his expression to something calmer.

He did his best to glare at Kuroo as their broken laughter slowly faded. "You were going to murder me for a dog."

"First off, I wasn't being serious. And in my defense, I think a lot of people would kill for a dog," Kuroo said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Wouldn't you?"

"Oh I'd slaughter humanity for a basket of puppies, but that's not the point," Tsukishima deadpanned, giving way to more of Kuroo's cough inducing laughter. Okay, now they really needed to quit it. Kuroo was going to die. "What are we doing in this parking lot if you're not a serial killer?"

At that Kuroo smiled sheepishly, his giggles subsiding at last as he threw Tsukishima a soft smile. Illegal, Tsukishima thought, but he wouldn't admit it. No matter how his heart flipped.

Test date, he reminded himself. One which hadn't even really started yet, all things considered. Tsukishima ignored the part of his brain which told him he was already plenty satisfied though, because that part of his brain was a delusional ass.

"I thought of taking you to one of the places near campus, since it's more familiar and whatever," Kuroo started, rubbing the back on his neck. It was endearing as hell, and Tsukishima hated him for it. "But I don't know, those places always feel too crowded. My friends and I come here usually. It's farther away, but that also means it's usually pretty empty. More romantic I guess...heh."

Tsukishima blinked in confusion, ignoring the flush on his face as he looked out into the parking lot. How he'd missed the building to his right side, he didn't know. It was a long, one story building, with a shoddy looking sign which blinked in a gaudy neon pink color.

Bowling.

Oh yeah.

"But I'm still going to kick your ass," Kuroo tacked on, his usual smug grin returning. And of course, as insufferable as it was, Tsukishima couldn't help but rise to the challenge.

That's what you think.

"We'll see," Tsukishima said, his tone bored as he opened the car door, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

True to Kuroo's word, the bowling alley was mostly empty. There were two more parties occupying lanes, but Kuroo had chosen one farther away from the door, at the end of the building. Thus, they pretty much had total privacy.

The lack of noise helped with Tsukishima's nerves too. Instead of the constant rolling of bowling balls and striking of pins, the sounds were faint. Present, but not distracting or grating enough to make Tsukishima's senses go into overload. The place smelled like buttery popcorn and overpriced fried food, as well as floor cleaner and polish, but again, it was fitting. The AC was strong enough to make Tsukishima zip up his jacket after he toed on his bowling shoes, but otherwise, the atmosphere was welcoming.

And surely, the relaxing mood was a much needed prerequisite considering how intense the game could get. Kuroo was already testing out his swings, and Tsukishima didn't know whether to roll his eyes or do the same.

He really did hate losing.

Which is also why he swore vengeance when his first ball rolled right into the gutter.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, pouting despite himself as he had to take the walk of shame back to the ball rack. Kuroo was doing a piss poor job of keeping his amusement in check as he watched Tsukishima take a second turn, and momentarily, Tsukishima thought he might just kill Kuroo himself. The lake wasn't too far away.

Such was the punishment of anyone who witnessed his failures.

By the time it was Kuroo's turn, Tsukishima had managed 5 points, and it was pitiful, but Tsukishima reminded himself they were only just beginning. (Also what the hell? When had he gotten this intense?)

"Alright," Kuroo said smugly as he got into position. "Watch and learn okay, I'm the master when it comes to this. You gotta line it up."

Oh god. I'll line you up.

Wait.

Kuroo swung, and the ball rolled lightning fast down the lane, and Tsukishima was momentarily swept up in it, because it truly looked like it would be a strike.

Well, until it veered last minute, hitting one pin, and one pin only.

The sound of it falling was so deafening Tsukishima thought he'd die from how tragically comedic it was.

One fucking pin.

Kuroo was cracking up almost instantly, some spit flying from his mouth from the force of it, but Tsukishima willed himself to stay calm. (His lungs were crying though, they hated him completely).

"You showed me," he deadpanned, the smallest of smiles on his face as Kuroo continued to prance arrogantly about, as if he'd just rolled three strikes in a row instead of whatever the fuck that was.

"I was demonstrating a warm up, you can't just try on the first turn," Kuroo explained, taking his second swing. He somehow managed to make a spare. Bastard.

"So that spare wasn't trying?"

"Nope, I'm just that good," Kuroo taunted, gesturing for Tsukishima to take his next turn. How kind.

Tsukishima grabbed the prism colored ball defiantly, making sure Kuroo saw how heavy it was (sue him, he was a dude, he could show off every once in a while) and took his stance.

Kuroo wouldn't stop grinning though, and started circling Tsukishima like a fly, trying to get his arms around him to make him stand "correctly."

"I'm trying to help you!" Kuroo shouted through his laughter, but Tsukishima dodged him again, keeping his own giggles at bay. No. Nope.

"Fuck off, I can do it myself!" Tsukishima lined himself up as quickly as possible, but right before he could step forward, Kuroo's hands were there again, resting on his forearms. He really really tried not to be pleased about it.

Kuroo smelled nice, like super nice. Beneath the unnatural cologne there was mint and the scent of fresh linens, and more than all that...Kuroo was warm. Tsukishima wasn't even tired, but he didn't doubt that if he'd been wrapped up with Kuroo next to him, he could've fallen asleep no problem.

"Tsukki, you'll never have a chance at beating me if you don't take my expert advice--"

"Screw your advice, I'm going to beat you all by myself to show how full of it you are," Tsukishima said as he ever so slightly inched out of Kuroo's grasp.

"Tsukki, you wound me," Kuroo sighed, and Tsukishima almost couldn't help himself from taking a peek at his face to see the fake sadness in all its glory, but no. This was the opening he'd needed.

While Kuroo was distracted with running his own mouth, Tsukishima took his turn. It was a sloppy swing, mostly because he hadn't had time to take the correct position and aim, but it still managed to knock down eight pins.

He couldn't help it, didn't really care how immature or childlike he was being, he spun around to face Kuroo instantly, flashing him the most smug grin he could manage.

"Psh whatever, don't get too cocky if you can't get a spare," Kuroo said, tilting his head in that aggravating way Tsukishima knew he'd come to hate. Mostly because it made him look too damn attractive, but whatever, he didn't have to acknowledge that.

And he did get a spare by the way. He was still behind in points, but he'd closed the gap.

Not like it mattered. From that point on, they started losing focus on the game completely, at least as a form of competition. It didn't take long for them to start goofing around, trying new swings and techniques, all the while making complete asses of themselves.

"Okay...so," Kuroo said on his fifth turn, watching as the ball spun slowly, knocking into the pins so delicately one would wonder if a toddler had done the swinging. Tsukishima had to hide his smile in his hand. "That was a terrible shot."

"You think?" Tsukishima said as he stood, grabbing the fourteen pound ball. He was mostly joking, but..."What if we use the heavier one?"

"I think you're gonna break your arm," Kuroo said, glancing at the cotton candy colored ball with legitimate worry. When he saw Tsukishima actually moving to line up, he put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, c'mon. Put it down."

"You c'mon, I'm just testing it," Tsukishima muttered, and before Kuroo could say anything else, Tsukishima swung his arm...only to drop the ball on the ground.

It made a sound that echoed through the building, enough so that the staff glanced their way, and Tsukishima debated walking out of there right then.

Kuroo was having a field day meanwhile, clutching his stomach. Asshole. "I told you!"

"Shut up," Tsukishima grunted, but it hardly had the desired effect. All through the evening, he'd been smiling far too much. It was unhealthy.

"Seriously though," Kuroo began, his voice breathless from his laughing fit as he came up to Tsukishima. "Are you okay?"

Kuroo walked up to him, taking Tsukishima's long fingers in his hand as he inspected them. His touch was gentle, like Tsukishima was glass, but his eyes were serious as they looked for any sign of bruising of redness.

"Your foot's alright too I'm guessing, since you're standing still," Kuroo joked, looking up from Tsukishima fingers until their eyes met. He must've realized what he was doing then, because the playful smile all but fell. They were standing really close, and Tsukishima thought maybe he'd be fine with it if Kuroo linked their hands together.

Kuroo's eyes were a lot more vibrant up close, he realized.

Kuroo cleared his throat, the nerves settling in, and Tsukishima wanted to hit him for looking so damn genuine all the time. Who was this guy? Kuroo's gaze was filled with nothing but adoration, and all for him. Tsukishima didn't think he was breathing, but if getting away from Kuroo was the solution to that, then he'd just deal with the suffocation.

Kuroo gave Tsukishima's hand one last squeeze before asking the question with the most obvious of answers. "Are you having fun?"

An understatement. Fun. Tsukishima was having more than enough. He felt guilty, because he really hadn't expected to, but Kuroo kept managing to surprise him in the simplest of ways. Tsukishima lowered his gaze, unable to answer without his face flushing instantly. He looked at their joined hands one more time, and they somehow provided the courage he needed.

"Yeah, let's keep going." Tsukishima's voice was soft, softer than he'd ever heard it outside of when he was singing, but he found he wasn't as embarrassed as he should've been.

By the second game, they'd basically stopped caring about the points. It was all about trying to knock down the pins any way they could, be it alone or together.

Kuroo would try to put a spin on the ball. Result: total failure, it hit the pins in the next lane over.

Tsukishima tried to swing with his left hand. Result: mixed, he managed to get six pins.

Kuroo tried to swing behind his back. Result: mixed, somehow managed to get two pins, but Kuroo probably fucked up his arm.

And of course, they tried going at the same time, upon which they finally managed to get a strike. Tsukishima was way happier about it than was appropriate for a game of bowling.

He didn't really know what had gotten into him, but he'd moved to hug Kuroo automatically after the victory, letting himself be twirled in place as the pinsetter moved to recollect the fallen pins.

He'd been right before. In Kuroo's arms, he felt safe, secure. At least, he did for a second, until he realized exactly what he was doing.

Kuroo's arms tightened around him as they froze, pulling away a little until they were face to face. This wasn't the first time that night that they'd been so close, but Tsukishima was nowhere near used to it. Doubted he'd ever be.

They were both breathless from laughing so much, foreheads slightly damp from the exercise and the stuffiness of the building, but it didn't make Tsukishima feel any less energized or displeased.

Usually, after being out and forced to socialize for so long, he'd need a recharge. A quiet place, alone time. He'd be dying to leave, to get out of there and listen to some music or curl up in bed. Some people drained him more than others sure, but Kuroo had by far exceeded any of his previous limits.

Tsukishima didn't feel on empty. He felt like he could be around Kuroo for hours, days even, and not feel the strain. It was terrifying, because if it weren't for their game ending, he could've stayed there with Kuroo for far longer.

The scoring machine buzzed, signaling that their session was up, and it seemed to break the spell. Kuroo dropped his arms, and Tsukishima tried not to miss them.

Kuroo beamed at him, pushing his messy bangs back as he kept his eyes on Tsukishima, even as he talked about splitting up. "You look spent, you wanna buy us some waters while I clean up? I'll meet you at the checkout."

And still, neither of them moved.

"Yeah, sure," Tsukishima said, as he stood rooted to his spot. There was that pull again, like he really didn't want to leave Kuroo's side. And it was obviously mutual, as much as he tried to deny it.

Eventually though, he did manage to pull himself away (he'd only be gone for two minutes dammit, why did he feel like this), and busied himself with the vending machines up towards the entrance.

As he took out his card to pay, he felt his movements start to rely on autopilot as his mind ran wild. The date was going to be over after this, and Tsukishima didn't know how to deal with that. He'd never done this before.

Were they supposed to go somewhere else? Schedule to meet up again? Was Kuroo going to walk him up to his apartment? As much as Tsukishima sort of hoped so, he didn't know what that entailed.

Did he invite Kuroo in? No. Bokuto would most likely be home, so there'd be none of...whatever came next. Nothing depraved.

It's the first date, calm down.

Thing was, he probably wouldn't have minded too much, with how he felt right then. His heartbeat was close to beating right out of his chest.

This was stupid. Why was he getting so wrapped up in this? Kuroo was still being tested, so why did Tsukishima want to keep the night from ending so damn badly?

It probably wasn't a good sign. Or maybe it was, depending on who he asked.

Even as he thought that, he couldn't scrub the soft smile off of his face, so that was probably telling enough. He could brush it off though...for now.

However, apparently he was more hopeless than he thought.

As he paid for the second bottle, watching as it dispensed, he failed to notice the other presence beside him until it was too late.

"Hey beautiful, you know...you've got a stunning voice."

Tsukishima jolted away from the voice, one way too close to his ear, and the love struck haze around him finally faded into nothing as he took in the unwelcome visitor. It was one of the young guys from the other bowling group, college age, maybe a year or two older than him.

Short black hair, arrogant grin, all brought together by his obviously flirtatious posture. The guy had no decency at all, and while it wasn't necessarily that he was ugly, Tsukishima's nose still scrunched up in disgust.

The advances were unwelcome, and Tsukishima would've kindly told him to fuck off, if he hadn't registered the words first.

My voice?

"What are you talking about?" Tsukishima demanded, glaring as the guy made a move to step closer, trying to cage him in against the vending machine. Like he'd allow it. Tsukishima was over six feet tall goddammit, he was one intimidating motherfucker if he wanted to be. He wasn't about to be pushed around or harassed.

Then again, this might've been his fault in the first place...

"Your voice, you were singing and I just...I had to come over here, please do it again! I'll do anything!" The other's voice was dreamy, but with an edge of desperation Tsukishima was far too familiar with.

Oh no...

Tsukishima took a good look at him, and yeah, all the signs were there. The guy's pupils were blown wide, hardly any trace of dark brown left to see. He looked almost mystified, like he was being controlled by some unknown force of magic. He was practically salivating too, his mouth hanging open as he inched closer, and fuck, had Tsukishima been singing?

He'd heard of sirens singing without realizing before, hell, Bokuto did it all the time, but Tsukishima had never been a victim of it. What the hell was going on?

In this case, he couldn't exactly hate the guy either. He truly couldn't help himself from coming onto Tsukishima, he was completely at Tsukishima's mercy, all because of his dumb magic. No wonder he wasn't scared away by Tsukishima's height or menacing stares. None of that shit mattered if someone was under the influence of a siren's song.

They had no choice.

It would wear off soon, since Tsukishima had stopped singing, but it didn't make things less uncomfortable in the meantime.

Tsukishima tried to get around the guy, to get distance, but it was in vain. He was stopped again as the guy persistently kept trying to herd him.

"Hey where you going? Can I come? I'll take you anywhere you want," he begged, already fishing out his car keys. "I love you, so I'll do anything."

"No, you really don't," Tsukishima insisted, glancing around sharply to make sure no one else was seeing the scene. Damn this guy for talking so loud. Tsukishima just wanted the magic to wear off already, if Kuroo came--

"What's going on here?"

Well so much for that.

Tsukishima turned to see Kuroo leaning against the far wall, eyes trained on the dude who was currently trying to get his hands on Tsukishima. It didn't look good. Well, for the guy anyways. It wasn't like Tsukishima could tell Kuroo to let it go, since doing so would mean revealing his secret. No chance in hell that was happening.

Kuroo gradually approached, and Tsukishima used the distraction to finally escape, moving a few feet away from his accidental victim. Kuroo's smile was friendly, but he gave off a vibe that communicated nothing of the sort. Razor sharp and cutting, an expression he'd never seen on Kuroo before. Again, he kept surprising him.

It sent a chill down Tsukishima's spine, activating some weird perverted glee inside him at seeing Kuroo jealous, but it was there and gone in an instant. Especially when the act of Kuroo stepping in seemed to shatter any spell Tsukishima's singing had over the stranger.

The man shook his head, his brow furrowing as he took in his surroundings. He looked like a lost little kid in a department store, but it was better than before.

"Oh uh, sorry man? No worries here..." The stranger blinked up at the ceiling, then at Kuroo, and finally at Tsukishima, no doubt confused out of his mind. Then just like that, he was walking away, joining his group of friends as if nothing had happened.

Good.

Tsukishima sighed in relief. At least things hadn't gotten too messy. That would've been annoying.

"Well that was weird," Kuroo began, the tension fading out of his shoulders as he faced Tsukishima. The hostility had drained out of his face. "You okay?"

Tsukishima nodded, a bit too dazed himself to speak. Especially now that Kuroo was so close to him again.

"Awesome, uh I paid n' stuff, so we can head out!" Kuroo held up his car keys, rattling them a bit. Tsukishima tried not to show his disappointment, because really, there shouldn't have been any. They'd spent plenty of time together already, it had to come to an end.

"But I figured, we could stop by this place I know and get something to eat?" Kuroo spoke up just as Tsukishima was finally convincing himself of returning home.

He looked up at Kuroo, once again hit with a smile he could only describe as smitten. Nerd.

As stupid as it was, and as much as Tsukishima should've declined, how could could he resist? Masking his excitement over the invitation would be a challenge though.

Luckily, his stomach answered for him, emitting a low growl which sent Kuroo into another laughing fit, and it sealed the deal right up.

Yeah, maybe dinner was the best idea.

Tsukishima started to think there were more to those siren myths Bokuto had been screaming about than he'd initially thought.

There he was, sitting alone in Kuroo's car while he waited for the other to finish picking up their food from inside a restaurant, and he felt impossibly light. His feet wouldn't stop tapping against the floor of the car, the tension had completely left him, and he kept having to fight off a smile from blooming on his face. What was worse was the sheer giddiness he was feeling, and that coupled with everything else, had eventually led to this.

He was singing. Like, not just humming, full on disney princess singing. And he was actually enjoying it. Hadn't even considered stopping.

He knew he'd have to, once Kuroo came back, unless he wanted the other's ears to bleed, but still. For now he'd indulge in the rare therapeutic feeling the singing brought. Surely at some point, his thoughts would take over once more, reminding him how stupid and frivolous it all was, but not yet.

This was what it felt like, he'd almost forgotten. To sing because he wanted to, not because he had to.

The notes carried inside the small car, making use of the poor acoustics no less. The car became his amphitheater, the sounds bouncing off the sides. There was no pitchiness to be found, no cracks or breathlessness. It might as well have been a professional concert, cramped inside this space which reeked of air freshener and candy from the bowling alley.

He kept his volume reasonable though, part of his cautious personality still in control at least somewhat. A siren's voice was a powerful thing, definitely strong enough to travel outside the car if he so wished. On a normal day, when he was singing out of necessity, he could attract a handful of men, at most ten or so.

The way he was feeling now, he felt he could bring an army to their knees, and it scared him enough to dilute his notes until they gradually faded away into nothingness.

He did not need a repeat of what happened at the bowling alley on a larger scale.

His sense returned, and he cleared his throat, choosing to stare expressionless at the glove box. It was harder than it seemed. Everything inside of him was telling him to sing, to the point where restraining himself was looking to be too exhausting.

He'd never experienced it before. He briefly wondered if it's how Bokuto always felt, with his wide grins and lively demeanor. As kids, he would belt out lyrics shamelessly, uncaring of the attention it drew. Even now, he sang freely when he could. It happened mostly around Akaashi, when they were being particularly lovey dovey. It was as if Akaashi could sense it too, because he'd keep his noise canceling headphones nearby at all times, plopping them on when he felt the surge of affection ignite Bokuto's instincts.

Bokuto would sing and twirl Akaashi in his arms, and though the raven could hear none of it, he smiled in that way that made it seem like nothing was amiss in the world.

That's sort of how Tsukishima felt right then, and he didn't know what to make of it.

So instead, he pushed the feeling down to analyzed at a later time, preferably when he wasn't on this date. It didn't stop the notes from burning his throat, begging to be sang at the top of his lungs.

Luckily, Kuroo came into sight right then, holding two bags of what Tsukishima hoped was good food. He wasn't afraid to say he was starving, and he'd trusted Kuroo's tastes without much choice.

"Alright, we're all set, dig in!" Kuroo said as he stepped back into the car, and Tsukishima had no issue listening to him for once. It took a certain degree of willpower for him not to gulp down half the fries in his bag, but he somehow managed.

Hesitantly, he bit into his sandwich, noting Kuroo's intense gaze as he waited for Tsukishima's final opinion. Although, from the way he was smirking, he already knew. As Tsukishima savored the taste, his chewing slowing only for a moment before truly starting to devour the food, he knew he'd lost.

It pissed Tsukishima off, but yeah fine, the food was good. Really good.

"Told you so." Kuroo beamed, turning away too busy himself with satisfying his own hunger. Tsukishima grunted in displeasure, but couldn't exactly fight him on that.

The silence between them was more comfortable and less charged than the last time they'd sat in the car together, but it warmed Tsukishima to the core. It was an issue. He thought having Kuroo back would quell his urge to sing, but it felt like it'd only made things worse. The radio played as they ate, only adding to Tsukishima's struggle.

Every note called him, begged him to express the flurry of feelings in his heart.

Kuroo's presence beside him was more than welcome after the time they'd spent together, even Tsukishima could begrudgingly admit to that. The excitement and nerves from before had mellowed out into cozy familiarity, coupled with the desire to extend their time as much as possible.

A yearning.

A reluctance to leave, to turn back to how things used to be.

A pull which sent him straight to Kuroo, even as they were sitting side by side. It was terrifying. Like he was being led out to some vast sea of emotions without much choice, but rather than letting the fear take over, he kept wading deeper into the water, every step more blissful than the last. And whether or not he ended up cut apart by the rocks, he couldn't stop himself from moving.

Oh, so this is what it feels like.

Somehow the realization was more earth shattering than he would've liked. Because now he realized why siren songs didn't work on soulmates. It wasn't that the magic was ineffective or absent, it was simply reversed.

For Tsukishima, Kuroo was that deadly song, pulling him closer, except unlike a usual victim, Tsukishima was completely aware of it.

And he didn't care. He succumbed to it anyways, because despite all his skepticism and anxieties over the future of such a bond, it felt incredible.

It was foolish now, after such a realization, to continue seeing Kuroo, but Tsukishima knew he would. There was no guarantee they'd be together, or stay together, but oh well.

Tsukishima would just have to accept his fate in these matters.

Such was the way of sirens.

"You really wanna sing huh?" Kuroo's voice interrupted, and Tsukishima blanched, struggling for words. How had he known? Had he been privy to Tsukishima's situation all along?

The panic surged and died in him in an instant as Kuroo continued.

"Ah I mean, I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely guilty. "Every time a song plays on the radio you open your mouth like you wanna sing, and then you stop before you do. So I thought it was because of all that shit I said about your voice that first night..."

Immediately, Tsukishima began shaking his head, ready to refute any of Kuroo's worries. The last thing Kuroo needed to be was guilty for protecting his own ears. Hell, had Tsukishima been in his shoes, he would've been a lot ruder about telling him to shut up. Tsukishima knew how painful it must've been for Kuroo, hearing him sing. "No, that's not--"

"Because seriously, it was a dick move," Kuroo insisted, looking Tsukishima directly in the eyes, silencing him. Those golden irises were intense, apologetic, and final all at once, and Tsukishima couldn't help but be at their mercy. "I know how much you love music Tsukki, and I don't know! If you wanna sing, you should, I'm not gonna care. If it makes you happy, then that's enough for me, I just...I really don't want you to tiptoe around me because I said some insensitive shit."

"Kuroo--"

"I mean I sing fucking awful, but that doesn't stop me from belting My Heart Will Go On in the shower, so--"

"Kuroo, it's fine," Tsukishima said, his heartbeat going mad inside his chest. Had it been any other type of situation, he might've been concerned. But this, this was just Kuroo being stupid, something Tsukishima's heart thought was apparently fond of. Kuroo being stupid, and sweet, and way too considerate. "I know my singing sucks."

(To you.)

"No, it--"

"It does," Tsukishima said with a glare. Then his face softened into something more bored, and he hoped it worked. If Kuroo didn't believe his next words, he wouldn't know what else to do. He certainly wasn't going to start singing. The last thing he needed was Kuroo passing out from how painful it was.

Tsukishima shrugged, finishing up the last of his fries with feigned disinterest. "I don't like singing in front of people is all, doesn't matter who. It draws too much attention and I prefer being by myself when I do, otherwise it's uncomfortable. Plus, having people listen is annoying," he finished, his face scrunching up in distaste.

The thing was, it wasn't even a lie. It wasn't the real reason he'd been hiding his voice from Kuroo, but it was still true. Tsukishima detested singing for an audience, always had.

And the truth of the statement paid off, because Kuroo bought it.

"Oh, so it's not because of what I said? You're sure?" Kuroo asked, probably ready to apologize at a moment's notice, damn him. It made Tsukishima melt, and he bit his lip to hold in a smile.

God, he'd never hear the end of this once Bokuto found out. Aggravating.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, already feeling lighter himself as the tension flowed from Kuroo's shoulders.

Again, the raven could very well be the death of him in some way, but if he kept smiling like that at him, Tsukishima knew he was sure to drown.

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #adri writing #haikyuuwriters

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cluelesskstuff · 7 years

Text

How Yosuke Hanamura broke my heart

It’s incomplete, but I had to get this out of my system:

How Yosuke Hanamura broke my heart

Persona 4 is a funny game. It is also a long game, and that allows the social simulation aspect of it to really work, allows you to feel at home with the characters, through charm and repetition - grumpy Dojima, overly energetic Chie, confused heart of gold Kanji. Through little bits of interaction, day by in-game day, you at some point start to realise that when this is over, you might actually miss them. All of them.

And then there is Yosuke.

You play Persona 4 as Souji, a quite detached guy moving in from the city, hand on his hip, jacket slung over his shoulder, and while you, the player, grow fond of the game's characters, Souji always feels like he doesn't quite belong. He is the leader, the one who pulls the strings, the one grown up far beyond their age, with the world's weight on their shoulders.

You juggle realtionships, help people out, they call you senpai, sensei - and then there is Yosuke.

Yosuke, who somehow, magically, manages to transcent Persona 4's charming but game-y relationship system and becomes something else. Yosuke, who calls you Partner, and rings you up at night asking about your dreams or which girl you like. Yosuke, who does and says so many silly things that you never quite know what to expect - Yosuke, who ultimately breaks the boundaries of Persona 4 and makes Souji/Yosuke the most unexpectedly real-feeling relationship within a video game that I've ever encountered.

I don't know what I thought when I first laid eyes on him, it's likely that it was something along the lines of "Hey, this is quite cool-looking for an anime video game guy. Nice headphones."

Then, in quick succession, things happened that made it clear that Yosuke was many things - heartbroken, repressed, funny, lazy, loyal, competitive, insecure, reckless - and that there was something building between him and Souji that seemed like a stunningly natural depiction of friendship. Somehow, this is rare - a video game showing two guys becoming friends, a process that just like falling in love requires making first moves, and opening up, and getting comfortable with each other. It seemed like Yosuke was the person in the cast that always wanted to know a little more, the one to push Souji a little bit, willing to ask stupid questions just to get a reaction, and unlike the other characters, he seemed to always act out of a desire to be level with Souji, to break through the calm, collected, leader-shell of his and address the human being inside.

Now, that alone would be a remarkable thing for a video game to depict, and worthy of high praise. What complicates things is that Yosuke, no matter how much he might deny it, seems like the most obvious case of a closeted gay person the world has ever seen.

When I started playing Persona 4, I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting myself into, through reading about it and actually having played a bit in the past. I also knew about the game's realtionship system, and was aware, or thought I was, that you could only get romantically involved with girls. Thus, when the game started to tease the possibility of a gay option, I raised an eyebrow, then another one, and then I lost my marbles.

When it started, the closeness between Souji and Yosuke had already been established, and since I'm a sucker for guys not actually hating each other, I started to favour Yosuke a little bit - choosing him to eat lunch with on the roof, studying together, spending afternoons at the Junes food court, talking in the soft glow of the sun on the Samegawa river bank. When Yosuke asked which girl I liked, I chose "neither", cheekily, thinking I was playing the metagame, when the next midnight channel story twist came up, I bet each time that Yosuke would be the one to call Souji, outraged, worried, flustered, and each time when the phone rang and it was indeed him, I smiled to myself. But surely it was all in my head - I was starting to ship it, but it was just a fun little thing to do, to spare a thought here and there and layer it on top of these two characters whose interactions I enjoyed way more than expected.

Then, these little moments started happening - the group sitting together at Junes' and Yosuke remarking how good Partner is with his hands, a comment that might not even have stuck out so much if weren't for the fact that immediately after saying it, Yosuke became a hot mess of backpedalling embarrassment. His insistence to know whether Souji had a crush on somebody, and who it was, despite the awkwardness. His remarks about inviting a third person to their activities, "or else people might think we're gay." And ultimately, the sheer time the game devoted to the Souji/Yosuke relationship - way more than any of the other characters got.

Persona 4's social link system is fairly rigid. You choose to spend time with people, and if things go well, and even sometimes if they don't, it raises your relationship level with said person, allowing you to climb the social link ranks, which has gameplay and combat benefits and also allows you, in some cases, to pursue a romance. What is remarkable about Yosuke is that the game spends a significant amount of time showing interactions between Yosuke and Souji outside of this system, building their relationship beyond the confines of you walking up to a person after school and answering "yes" to their proposal of hanging out. This not only serves to create a markedly more natural and complex relationship, it also sets Yosuke apart from the other characters - he is the one to choose to interact with Souji while the other characters can only wait to be chosen.

And then Kanji entered the picture, Yosuke freaked out completely and I looked on, amazed at the fact that this game would dare to introduce a gay character, who, despite being closeted, met up with dates after school and whose dungeon was, of all things, a gay bathhouse, with sexual content that wasn't even the slightest bit concealed. Of all the characters, Yosuke reacted most strongly to this, outright refusing to enter and making a big fuss about being afraid of Kanji taking advantage of him.

It culminated in the camping trip - Kanji, Yosuke, Souji sharing a tent - a scenario that could have been used very easily for a gay romance movie of questionable quality, full of the usual tropes of late night talks, denial, confrontation and very real confusion on my part of where exactly this was going - the game laid on the armored gay homophobia on Yosuke so thick that it seemed almost impossible to read what was going on in any other way. Combined with the unusual qualities that had been established in the realtionship before Kanji joined the group, it started to feel like an entire plot was going on behind the scenes, inexplicit yet persistent and increasingly impossible to ignore.

A few in-game days after that camping trip, Yosuke broke another boundary the game had set up to this point - he visited Souji's home. More importantly, his room, a place that up until then you, the player, had always been alone in. The conversation that followed, in that intimate space, can't adequately be described as subtext anymore, it's text, and very gay text at that. I was streaming the game at the time, and I bet if that session's video was still up, you'd hear my breath hitch in surprise when Yosuke, no homo Yosuke, asked about Souji's porn stash and teasingly, suggestively stated he'd find it while Souji was out of the room. That was only the top of the iceberg, the whole scene and its context hit me like a 10 ton truck - could it be real? Was there really, explicitly something going on? The fact that I, after learning through research that there was no gay option, felt the need to double check after that scene, to make sure there wasn't one, should speak volumes.

That's when I learned of the fact that Yosuke very likely was a gay option, that there were unused text and voice lines left over on the game's disk that turned the inexplicit explicit, both in english and japanese, suggesting the developer changed their mind after the localization was done, i.e. very late in the game's development. Only, they had ripped out very little, leaving in tons of sublte and not so subtle parts of the relationship, and that was when I realised that Persona 4, beyond being one of the best games I have ever played, would also have the potential to make me very sad, and very angry.

It wasn't just that gay rights had been dear to my heart for as long as I could remember. It wasn't just that the progression of Souji and Yosuke's relationship eclipsed any other possible pairing in the lineup by miles in terms of complexity and depth and just feeling right. It was the loss of an incredible story being told, a story that would have been unique in the history of video games - the story of two fully realised, multi-faceted male characters that you, as a player, like, falling in love, and dealing with the fact that they both happen to be guys, with all the issues that might bring in a society where homophobia and hate are still so prevalent.

While this has been done in movies to great success in recent times, mainstream video games haven't dared to show male homosexual relationships in positive light and up front and center. Persona 4 does dare to spend significant time on very progressive subjects, including homosexuality and transgender issues, but it falters and pulls back just on the brink of being truly groundbreaking, which, to anybody playing the game with an open mind, can only scream injustice both in a worldly and in an in-game sense.

The level 9 rank of Yosuke's social link progression has the two of you standing on a hill overlooking the town of Inaba. Yosuke'd probably call it a village, and the two of you talk about coming to terms with your place in the world, literally and figuratively. It's autumn, and the evening sun plays with the coloured leaves on the trees - it's a beautiful spot, a wistful song is playing, and despite the Playstation 2's aged graphics you can't help but marvel a little. You've never been to this spot before, you think Yosuke probably brought you here, and you wonder if there are any other locations in the town you know so well by now that you haven't seen.

"There is still nothing here," Yosuke says, meaning Inaba, a place he resented for the longest time, "but I have family, and friends...and you."

I sat in front of the TV for a long time, the soft piano notes of the song playing making me ache, and then I realised that while Yosuke Hanamura was denied the chance to become part of video games' first positively framed gay male relationship, he had acomplished one thing:

Yosuke Hanamura broke my heart.

#persona 4 #souyo #walloftext #sorrynotsorry

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boschlingtumbles · 4 years

Text

White Wedding Ch 18-21

Stannis (Been Away For So Long 1 of x)

Somewhere between catching the immediately recognizable stag’s head logo on the helicopter and the moment when his parents stepped down onto the great lawn of Casterly Rock, Stannis felt his stomach flip.

His gaze automatically slid to Robert, who was looking back at him from next to Tywin Lannister in mute anguish. His gaze slid to Renly, who was clutching a glass of wine in a trembling hand next to Brienne Tarth. Shit. They were in so much trouble.

Stannis immediately squelched the thought. He was an adult for the seven’s sake. This wasn’t like they’d gotten kicked out of mass. They’d only had a party. With their father’s sworn nemesis. That had spiraled into the social event of the year. And kind of maybe slightly “forgot” to invite their parents. Oh fuck it. This was so much worse.

Stannis jerked his head toward the orchard abutting the north wing. Robert and Renly both nodded.

As Stannis stiffly excused himself from a conversation with Axel Florent, he reflected that in some ways, it was a mercy that the party was being held at Casterly Rock. If there was one location that the Baratheon boys knew almost as well as their own home, it was this one.

He and Robert had been abandoned to “play” with Jaime and Cersei Lannister more times than he could recall as a child. (Jaime and Cersei had always hated them. Any playing that they did, and Stannis didn’t remember much, had been alone together.) Renly had experienced much the same enforced social activity with Tyrion. And what the Baratheon boys knew that their parents certainly did not, was the secret tree house in the pine grove at the edge of the orchard.

He reached it first, was pleased to see the old knitted rope still swinging much as he remembered it. Taking a quick look around to make sure nobody would catch him climbing a rope ladder in a tux, he hoisted himself hand over hand up onto the platform.

It wasn’t maybe five minutes later that he saw Renly running through the trees, wine glass still in hand. The rope twitched, and seconds later his younger brother’s head appeared, trapping the still half full glass between chin and shoulder.

“You couldn’t have put that down?” Stannis pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tyrion said he picked out the wines himself! It would have been rude!” Renly protested, cradling the glass to his chest. Then, remembering the greater issue at hand, he lifted his dark blue eyes up to Stannis’ own.

“How did they find out?! I was checking the mail every morning just like you said!! I got the stupid box, I RSVP’ed no, I hid it in my cuff links collection box, and I know it’s still there, I saw it yesterday when I was trying to decide whether I should use the gold or silver antlers,” Renly wailed.

“Renly, shhhh! This is a secret meeting!” Stannis tried to hush him. Not that he wasn’t also panicked. He’d checked their calendar this morning! They were supposed to be on a cruise in the fjords of Lorath!

“They’re gonna kill us!!” Renly banged his head against the floorboards, making even more noise if possible.

“Look shut up, it wasn’t you okay?! I am reasonably certain that it was Jaime Lannister. Somehow.”

Stannis flashed back on their conversation and ground his teeth. How could he have been so careless?!

He and Robert and Renly had decided, in a rare moment of unanimity, that it would be for the best if their parents did not come to the evening’s festivities. Renly already hated that Robert was the only child their parents paid even a cursory amount of attention to. A party where he was actually the center of attention?! Renly probably would have preferred to go to a football game rather than endure such an evening with their parents. Stannis, personally, just knew that they would somehow find a way to blame him for Robert getting Cersei pregnant. Which she wasn’t. But still. Somehow this would be his fault because he was the responsible one and why hadn’t he been looking out for his brother. As for Robert...

It was possible that he didn’t want to completely ruin the party by introducing Steffon and Tywin into an enclosed area.

For much of their childhood, their father had been good friends with Tywin Lannister, and the mayor at the time, Aerys Targaryen. Stannis wasn’t sure what had happened exactly—certainly the fact that the mayor was a psychopath didn’t help—but their friendship had been hanging on by a thread when Joanna Lannister died.

His parents hadn’t gone to the funeral. As far as he could remember, that had been the (Stannis winced) final nail in the coffin.

Tywin Lannister and Steffon Baratheon hadn’t spoken since.

Okay, think this through. Think, think, think. What had Jaime said? Probably just, oh did the invite get lost in the mail. So worst case, the three of them were on the hook for not telling their parents about the party. Which they had quite reasonably not mentioned because they hadn’t seen their parents in months. So this wasn’t their fault. Stannis let out a slow breath. This was going to be okay.

Robert’s head popped through the hole, followed by the rest of him, pulling the rope up after.

“This is going to be a disaster!!” Robert groaned. He snagged Renly’s glass of wine and drained it, eliciting a howl of rage from Renly.

“Robert, Renly, shut up, this is a secret meeting!” Stannis hissed at them.

“Look, as near as I can figure, it’s unfortunate that dad and Tywin will be in the same place. But none of this is our fault... As far as they’re aware,” Stannis added guiltily. “We invited them to the party. They just haven’t been home. It’s not our fault that they don’t care about your wedding enough to come back.”

“Ummm about that,” Robert scratched his head.

“Oh no,” Renly breathed.

“Robert. Did you not tell our parents about the wedding?” Stannis growled.

“Okay in my defense, it seemed like everybody already knew! It’s been in the papers every day!”

“The papers here in Westeros! Where our parents never are unless they have a very good reason!”

“And it’s not like they give a fuck about us! Why would they even care!”

“Have you met our mother?! Why would she care that she didn’t get to be at the social event of the season where she got to be the proud mother of the groom?! Her precious star quarterback?!” Stannis snapped.

“I’m so screwed. Mom and Dad are going to kill me. And then Tywin Lannister is going to kill me. And then...”

“ROBERT!” A very familiar voice shouted up from the base of the tree. “LET THE ROPE DOWN NOW!”

“Cersei is going to kill me,” Robert rolled onto his back.

“ROBERT!!!” Cersei shrieked. Seriously, did nobody understand the concept of a secret meeting?!

“NO GIRLS ALLOWED!” Renly shrieked back.

Apparently not.

With a sigh, Stannis tossed the rope down.

Cersei clambered up surprisingly quickly for someone wearing a partially sheer red and gold dress that had Stannis averting his eyes immediately.

“Is that a Joy Hill?” Renly forgot his previously combative demeanor immediately. “I thought she’d only done the one capsule collection?”

“Cersei, I’m so sorry, I had no idea they’d be here, we thought, I mean I thought they WOULDN’T be here, we...”

“The three of you sabotaged the invite list so they wouldn’t come. I noticed the RSVP was in Renly’s handwriting. It was smart,” Cersei shrugged. “They must have seen a mention in the foreign press. What you have to deal with now is father.”

Robert blinked, taken aback by her calm demeanor. Honestly, Stannis was rather surprised as well. Apparently her ire was being channeled at a different target. May the gods have mercy on their soul.

“Um can’t you handle him?” Robert began tentatively.

“I will be dealing with... other matters,” Cersei’s nostrils flared white. “I need you to handle this.

Please. Just get your father and my father to play nice for one evening. Can you do that?”

Since when had anyone gotten Tywin Lannister to do anything?

“Yeah I can do that,” Robert gulped. Stannis mentally facepalmed.

“What are we doing?” Melisandre’s head suddenly poked into the treehouse.

“How did you find us?” Stannis asked surprised, as he helped her in.

“I saw you head in this direction and then after that I followed the ungodly screaming,” Melisandre said drily.

Stannis shot a glare at his brothers and Cersei.

“I’m glad you’re here Melisandre,” Cersei said calmly, ignoring him entirely. “I must say it shows great initiative on your part as a bridesmaid.”

Melisandre’s eye twitched.

“These three can catch you up. I’ll expect it handled promptly. If you manage things according to my expectations, I’ll see what I can do about tossing you the bouquet at my weddding. Brienne will understand.”

“You’re too kind,” Melisandre glared.

“I like to reward success,” Cersei said serenely, and then shimmied down the rope ladder as easily as if it were a slide.

“So why don’t you catch me up?” Melisandre asked sardonically.

“Basically we need to keep Tywin Lannister and my father from killing each other. Bonus points if we can get them to smile for a camera,” Renly said.

“Hey, are you guys smoking weed up here without me?” Thoros stuck his head in.

Stannis pressed his fingers to his temples. Did nobody understand the concept of a secret meeting?!

“I wish! Do you have any?” Robert asked with a loud laugh. Stannis gritted his teeth.

“I was hoping you did! That fucking chopper nearly landed on me!” Thoros said back, just as loudly.

“You were fine,” Melisandre interjected.

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“Maybe Oberyn has some? Should I text him?” Robert raised his voice over their bickering.

“Ooooooh,” Renly clapped his hands.

“SHUT UP!” Stannis howled.

There was a sullen silence in the tree house.

For five seconds.

“Stannis, can you be a little quieter?” Melisandre said reprovingly.

“It’s a secret meeting,” Renly shushed him.

“Really? Because I heard you guys like across the orchard,” Thoros said interestedly.

“Where’s Beric?” Robert suddenly noticed his friend was uncharacteristically solo.

“Hiding from one Jeyne Westerling. She’s eight and precocious. Beric is terrified,” Thoros snickered.

Stannis stared at them all as the volume slowly crept back to its prior deafening level.

“Yes Thoros, it is a secret meeting,” he cut through the conversation. “We need to get our father to make up with Tywin Lannister, and it’s all Jaime Lannister’s fault!”

“You can’t know that,” Melisandre rolled her eyes.

“You heard him on the phone!” Stannis spluttered.

“The engagement party has been all over the news! For all we know, they saw that fucking Storms Ending commercial!”

“I like that commercial,” Thoros put in.

“Eh. I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Renly shrugged. “All the girls at Prep are gaga over it though.”

“All I’m saying is that Jaime said he had a fail-safe plan and that I would be collateral damage,” Stannis tried to return them to the matter at hand.

“Oh,” Thoros suddenly looked away from glaring at Renly. “Huh. Did you say fail-safe?”

“That was the phrase he used,” Melisandre nodded.

“Right. Um Stannis is probably right,” Thoros looked sheepish.

“Did you know about this?!” Melisandre growled.

“Not exactly...” Thoros scrunched his face.

“What did he say exactly?!” Melisandre bit out.

“That he needed a fail-safe plan to stick it to Stannis?” Thoros made it sound like a question, as he edged away from his younger sister.

“And you never brought it up because...”

“Well it’s not like I knew the specifics! Ned was saying something about Hoster Tully ruining his marriage and childhood best friends and then Jaime ran out.”

“See it kind of seems like you knew the specifics,” Melisandre said very quietly. Thoros shivered.

“I’m on Robert’s side!!!” He protested.

“I know you are buddy,” Robert patted his top knot.

“Okay, three issues. Robert, you need to get to our parents and apologize for not telling them you were GETTING MARRIED,” Stannis said sternly. “Then we need to talk to dad about smoothing things over with Tywin, and I literally have no ideas on that front. Finally, we need to take care of Jaime. I will handle that,” Stannis said firmly. Oh he would handle it.

“Can you also come with me when I apologize to Mom and Dad?” Robert looked uncomfortable.

“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me!” Stannis narrowed his eyes.

“I won’t! I swear I won’t!”

“Okay fine. Renly, you and Melisandre are in charge of implementing whatever plan we come up with to reconcile our dad with Tywin.”

“I can help,” Thoros offered.

“Renly, you and Melisandre are in charge of implementing whatever plan we come up with to reconcile our dad with Tywin,” Stannis repeated stoically. “Now does anyone have any ideas they would like to submit to the floor?”

“What if he apologized?” Melisandre said hesitantly. “Would that be enough?”

“He won’t apologize, he thinks he basically could have stopped the whole Aerys Targaryen thing ten years ago if Tywin had bothered to listen to him. Instead Tywin and Aerys cut him out,” Robert explained.

“Well Tywin won’t apologize, he thinks dad is a superficial dick who was fine rubbing elbows with him at parties but couldn’t bother to show up for Joanna Lannister’s funeral!” Renly protested.

“I don’t know...” Stannis mumbled, trying to recall a conversation he’d had with Jaime once. “Jaime said Tywin felt like he’d backed the wrong horse, that he was... I don’t know, not sad, but regretted how things had turned out. I’m not saying he’d apologize, but if he thought dad was willing to put it behind him, he might put it behind him too?”

“So nobody apologizes, they just pretend it never happened?” Melisandre said sarcastically. “Wow that’s healthy.”

“Nope that’s definitely how it has to be,” Robert nodded assent.

“So we get them into a room, and if Steffon thinks Tywin feels bad and Tywin thinks Steffon feels bad, they’ll just sort of bury the hatchet?” Melisandre said dubiously.

“Robert and I can bring it up with dad. Who wants to handle Tywin?” Stannis said, aware that this plan was thin. But with the disconcerting regularity with which his really well thought out plans backfired, was there even any point in trying?

“Ooooh me!” Renly waved his hand.

Stannis looked at Melisandre.

“Meeeee!” Renly moved so he was now in front of Melisandre.

“Fine. Do I even want to know?” Stannis asked dully.

“Well I saw this romcom the other night and...”

“Actually I really don’t. Come on Robert,” Stannis sighed heavily.

They naturally found their parents swarmed by admirers and well-wishers and assorted hangers-on.

“Excuse me,” Stannis said politely to a star struck Whent. No response.

“Excuse me?” He tried a little louder. Nothing.

“Coming through!” Robert shouldered the Whent aside, grabbing Stannis by the arm as he went. Stannis gritted his teeth as he was half dragged the remaining ten yards, Robert sending trays of canapés, drinks and the occasional socialite flying.

“Mom! Dad!” Robert announced when they finally got there. “You made it!”

Steffon Baratheon looked like an older version of Robert. The resemblance was truly striking. Cassana Baratheon also had black hair, in long curls that had been swept up into an elegant chiffon. Teardrop pearls swung from her ears as she laughed at a joke Melessa Tarly had made, her striking scarlet dress (it reminded Stannis of a more conservative version of Cersei’s) catching the light. A photographer snapped a candid.

“Robert!!!” Cassana cooed. “My baby boy’s all grown up!”

There was a collective ‘awwww’ from the crowd, and Robert gave a sheepish smile for the audience as she pinched his cheeks.

“We need a family photo!!” Steffon boomed. “You with the camera! The Baratheons!”

They put their arms around Robert.

“Do you want me in this or...” Stannis began drily. The camera clicked. Evidently not.

“I’m so glad Jaime got a hold of you,” Robert said to their parents, drawing them away from the crowd. “We were so worried when the invitation we sent to Lorath got returned undelivered!”

What. Stannis shot a look at Robert who looked innocently back.

“So worried,” he said flatly.

Their mother lifted an eyebrow.

“The invitation was lost in the mail?”

“Of course! You don’t think something like this could happen in my life and I wouldn’t tell you guys?!” Robert said sweetly. “Maybe Renly messed up the address somehow?”

And there it was. Stannis rolled his eyes.

“Really darling, I can’t see how this even happened,” Cassana smoothed Robert’s hair as if he were a child. “Cersei Lannister? You know we haven’t really socialized with the Lannisters since Joanna’s passing.”

“Robert has dated Cersei since high school, Mom,” Stannis pointed out, perhaps a tad snidely. “She was his prom queen, remember?”

From the expression of bemusement on their mother’s face, it was clear that she did not.

“Of course, now it’s coming back,” she laughed for the benefit of any third parties in earshot. “Little Cersei. She always did follow you everywhere. And you were always sweet on her. Remember when you made her that valentine?”

Stannis and Robert exchanged a look. Cersei and Robert had always despised each other until... well until they didn’t. The aforementioned valentine had been for Lyanna Stark.

“That’s right Mum,” Robert said easily. “She loved it.”

It shouldn’t have mattered. It clearly didn’t to Robert. All the same, Stannis felt the old unasked for hurt welling up. What was wrong with these people?! Why didn’t their kids matter to them?! Were the three of them so fucking uninteresting?! Maybe Robert and Renly were shitheads, maybe he was awkward and over serious, but come hell or high water he would bet his life that any of them would be better parents than Steffon and Cassana.

That was the sad part. The bar was so fucking low. Literally all they had to do was be there for their children.

Stannis blinked, a simmering resentment abruptly dissipating.

It didn’t matter. That Cersei might be lying about the pregnancy. It couldn’t matter. If there were any chance that she was telling the truth, no matter how remote, he wanted Robert to be there every step of the way. This kid deserved a father. Robert might pass along a whole host of other psychological issues, but absenteeism was one scar that was stopping at this generation.

He turned to look at his brother, now talking earnestly to their father about how much it would mean to him if he’d let bygones be bygones with Tywin. Just let the past stay in the past.

Stannis would do his best.

He gave Robert a tired smile and Robert gave a goofy grin back, mock toasting him with a glass of champagne he’d conjured from somewhere.

Gods he was going to be a disaster of a father. But he would be a father.

Stannis turned his attention from the past and the future to the matter at present.

Jaime fucking Lannister.

Brienne (Been Away For So Long 2 of x)

Brienne was not having a panic attack. Everything was COMPLETELY under control. She just wasn’t entirely sure she could breath.

She sat down on a marble bench festooned with lilies, and checked the laminated to-do list that Cersei had presented her with upon her arrival that morning.

She had let in the sound system people, made sure they were paid, supervised the installation. She had spent two hours placing name cards on the tables throughout the great courtyard according to Cersei’s ever changing master list she kept on a shared spreadsheet. Then Brienne had rechecked the spreadsheet, and of course Cersei had made several changes, primarily to the Tyrells.

Cersei had picked out her dress, a gauzy peach shift with one shoulder that felt a little bit like she was running around with only a personal cloud to conceal her modesty. She had hoped to find Jaime for a little reassurance—(she heard that in his voice and blushed—just reassurance!!)—but he was inexplicably nowhere to be seen.

Tyrion said he’d chatted with him earlier, Ned had run into him at the bar, Oberyn wondered why she was looking for Jaime when he, Oberyn, was right here and had he mentioned that dress was just exquisite....

Not feeling at all reassured, Brienne had hastily retreated back inside to retrieve a shawl from her suitcase in Jaime’s room and maybe yes, see if he was also hiding out in there.

He was not. She cloaked herself in the shawl feeling unaccountably forlorn. There was just so much to do and none of the guests paid any attention to her except to stare. The only exceptions were Jaime’s Aunt Genna who kept casting furtive looks at her like someone had let in a very large mouse and his Uncle Tygett who had mistaken her for somebody’s nanny and put a completely silent seven year old named Tyrek’s sticky hand into her own.

“He’s gluten-free, sugar-free and completely vegan. Try to keep it organic, and for the gods’ sakes keep your eyes on him, he’s like a magpie,” Jaime’s uncle said sternly. Brienne looked at the small blond child holding her hand. She wasn’t entirely clear what that was supposed to mean.

After towing Tyrek around for thirty minutes looking for an actual nanny (or bird keeper), she’d finally managed to hand him off to Tyrion and was thoroughly sick of the Ty- prefix in general.

She went outside and as she often did when she was feeling overwhelmed, looked for a nice quiet place to be alone.

The marble bench had seemed a nice quiet spot, surrounded by flowers and away from the high contact sport of society mingling. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, let the faint fragrance of the lilies calm her and savored the sensation of being finally, blessedly, alone.

“Hi Brienne!”

She opened her eyes to find Renly Baratheon standing arms akimbo inches away.

Or not.

As always, he had made the dress code his own, an elegantly dapper midnight blue tux bringing out his striking blue eyes. She wasn’t sure he would ever be quite as tall or as broad-shouldered as Robert, but he had an aristocratic fineness to his features that his brothers lacked. Next to him, she felt even more ungainly than she did normally.

“What is that?!” Renly wrinkled his nose.

“Oh just something Cersei made me wear,” Brienne mumbled.

“Ugh no, that dress is a modern homage to vintage Lysene gowns from the 1920s, it’s lovely. What is that!” Renly whisked her shawl away, pinching it between his fingers like he had seized a dead rat.

“I felt like people were staring at me,” Brienne flushed.

“Of course they were, there’s a massive photo of you swimming in the Tarbeck exhibition at the Tayte,” Renly said blithely. He tossed her shawl over one shoulder, it somehow seeming jauntily cavalier on him, and extended his arm. “Take a spin with me? We have so much to catch up on since I’ve been at drama camp! Did I tell you that an agent gave me his card?!”

Brienne smiled helplessly at Renly’s imperturbable chivalry. She had known him since he was in kindergarten and he had always known what to say to cheer her up. Even now at fourteen, an age where she remembered most boys being awful pack animals, Renly was still stubbornly one of a kind.

Renly was chatting animatedly about how this could be the break into the film industry that he’d been waiting for and did his parents even care?! No! His mother had brushed him off to talk to her friends the Tullys, and you know if Robert had said something might be his big break, she would have at least put down her wine and heard him out.

“Your parents are here?” Brienne frowned. She’d gotten the vague impression that they wouldn’t be, but of course that was ridiculous. They would never miss an important life event like this.

“You missed the grand entrance?” Renly rolled his eyes.

“I may have been escorting a jam smeared child through the bowels of this house,” Brienne offered.

“Well it was by helicopter,” Renly rolled his eyes. “That’s mostly what we need to discuss. Remember that scene in How to Lose a Guy in a Fortnight?”

“What scene?” Brienne asked. Before she had left for college, she and Renly had had a long standing romcom movie night.

“Where the guy finds out the girl likes him because he overhears a conversation that their friends are having? And then their friends separately lure them to that balcony and he’s actually nice to her and she realizes she actually is in love with them and then they kiss and then they only find out later that she’d never told their friends anything like that?”

“Of course,” Brienne laughed. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Right, we’re doing that,” Renly said, wheeling her through the crowd.

“With your parents? Are they having a tiff?”

“What? No! With dad and Tywin!”

“You want your dad to kiss Tywin on a balcony?” Brienne wasn’t sure she was fully following.

“NO! EW! Tywin is mine!”

Brienne accepted and even cherished many of Renly’s eccentricities, but his crush on Tywin was really really not one of them. Literally everybody except Melisandre found it deeply unsettling.

“He’s not gay,” she said in her most severe and disapproving tone.

“Neither is my dad. I want Tywin to overhear that father feels terribly about how they don’t talk anymore. Then we lure them to a place my dad would actually go, like a bar, slash a place Tywin would actually go, like a library, so just spitballing here, the bar cart in the library, and then they make up.”

“Oh. Okay,” Brienne said tentatively. Although speaking of Tywin... “Have you seen Jaime?”

“Is he not around?” Renly asked lightly. But there was something in his polished surprise that rang slightly off.

“Where... is... Jaime?” Brienne stopped their walk about, squeezing his arm.

“I haven’t the foggiest,” Renly gave her a sunny smile that was at least devoid of artifice. “Oh look, it’s Olenna Tyrell! Hi Olenna!!”

“Why Renly, you charming young man. Look at you, stealing the prettiest girl here for yourself,” Olenna Tyrell, an elegant woman with light brown hair streaking gray rather gracefully, arched an eyebrow at Renly.

Brienne blushed. She was sure that Olenna meant it (painful interactions with her former college advisor had taught her that the erstwhile CEO of the Tyrell Agricultural Conglomerate did not believe in mincing words), but she couldn’t quite trust those kinds of comments.

Jaime would say that was nonsense. He’d remind her of that gods damned photo now hanging in a museum for strangers to gawp at. She looked around once more for him to no avail.

“I do hope your grades this year were not any indication of future efforts,” Olenna was telling Renly sternly. “I know you Baratheons must have a brain cell or two in there somewhere, Stannis was evidence enough of that. And Robert always had his football. You can’t possibly make me sell a theater program though...”

“Oh look,” Renly deliberately changed the subject, his light tenor carrying across the crowd. “Is that Tywin Lannister? He’s looking rather fit isn’t he?”

From Tywin’s flinch, Renly’s remark had certainly carried far enough. Brienne was sure he’d move further from them (Tywin being firmly in the camp of those unnerved by Renly’s fascination with him) but then Olenna gave a rich chuckle.

“If my son weren’t here right now... Mace does so hate to be embarrassed by me.”

Tywin had surprisingly paused, although it may have been due to his being waylaid by Brandon Stark.

“I keep telling him, Mace it’s nothing that a diet and a lie about a thyroid issue won’t fix,” Olenna flapped a hand. “Anyway, the last thing he needs is a reminder that his mother is a living breathing woman who likes to flirt with handsome widowers.”

Tywin and Brandon were still talking, Tywin having ushered Brandon a step or two closer to avoid a passing waiter.

“It’s too bad that there’s so many people around, I know my father had been looking for a chance to talk to him in private,” Renly sighed.

“Oh?” Olenna raised an eyebrow.

“I thought they didn’t speak to each other,” Brienne chipped in dutifully.

“They don’t. And it’s really eating him up, especially now that Robert and Cersei are engaged. He just wants to put the whole thing behind him, and he’s not sure how,” Renly said earnestly, sounding both saddened and wistful.

Brienne didn’t care what Olenna thought, Renly would make a wonderful actor some day.

“Stuff and nonsense. They’re men, what’s to say. They’ll have a glass of scotch and hem and haw and the whole thing will be over with,” Olenna sniffed.

“It’s not quite that simple,” Renly shook his head as if they were discussing matters of state. “Father didn’t come to Joanna Lannister’s funeral. At the time, he felt like his presence would have been an extra burden with his and Tywin’s falling out, but I don’t think Tywin has ever forgotten it. And it’s made father shy of reaching out.”

“This is why women should rule the world,” Olenna gave Brienne a conspiratorial look. “Anyone who had ever met Joanna Lannister should know that she didn’t give two lambs’ farts about this kind of petty nonsense. She knew the Baratheons loved her, and the rest is in the details,” Olenna flapped a hand. “I can’t imagine Tywin would keep a grudge over something so silly.”

Brienne discreetly glanced over her shoulder, but the subject in question had disappeared.

“I do hope so,” Renly didn’t even look surprised at how ably Olenna played along. “And may I just say,” he gave her a cheekily flirtatious grin. “How very much I like you, Olenna.”

“Please, call me Mrs. Tyrell,” Olenna’s smile was razor sharp but her laugh genuine. “If only I had another son for you.”

“As if I’d survive being related to her,” Renly whispered smirking to Brienne as he dragged her away.

“I think that went quite well all things considered,” he continued.

“How do you even know? I don’t think he heard anything after you shouted about how hot he is,” Brienne said doubtfully.

Renly smiled smugly but made no response.

“Oh is that Cersei?” Brienne caught a glimpse of red and gold. “Can I have my shawl back? I need to see if she knows where Jaime is.”

“Absolutely not,” Renly cast her a stern look. “It ruins the outfit. We’ll put it down over here on the bench you were hiding on. Just don’t forget it later.

“Fine,” Brienne huffed, mentally resolving to retrieve it as soon as Renly’s back was turned.

She caught up with Cersei, who was clutching a glass, not of her now standard sparkling cider, but of red wine.

“Have you seen Jaime?”

She asked hopefully.

“Did you know that Moon Boy isn’t showing?” Cersei swung on her.

“I didn’t know Moon Boy was showing,” Brienne said cautiously, sensing that perhaps was not the best time to be approaching Cersei.

“And Marillion!” Cersei hissed. “This is a disaster!”

Brienne looked around the party, probably the nicest party she had ever been to. Everybody seemed to be having a grand time.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Brienne asked uncertainly.

“You’ve done quite enough,” Cersei said. “But there is one more thing I must ask you.”

“Okay?” Brienne said hesitantly.

“You don’t mind if I toss my bouquet to Melisandre do you?” Cersei said.

“Oh,” Brienne blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her really that Cersei would toss the bouquet at all.

“Just a little thank you for her help,” Cersei patted her on the shoulder.

Melisandre’s help? Melisandre had no time for Cersei and less time for weddings.

“Now excuse me, I have a party to save,” Cersei said, handing her glass of wine to Brienne.

Brienne blinked at it.

Had she done something wrong? Was Cersei disappointed in her? Should she have known about Marillion and Moon Boy?

She never even said whether she’d seen Jaime.

Brienne looked at the quite full glass. With a resigned sigh, she took a gulp.

Actually, the wine was quite good she thought. Especially since she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. She ambled through the crowd, and had another longer sip, idly backtracking toward the bench she’d first run into Renly at. It was gone. Her shawl was gone. As she blinked, owlishly bewildered, she heard a familiar voice from around the corner and instinctively shrunk back.

“It’s just too awful for words! That Jaime would embarrass us like this!” Jaime’s Aunt Genna was saying loudly to one of her brothers. Gerion? Brienne bit her lip. Were they talking about her? She retreated toward the bar.

“May I have another one of these?” Brienne pushed the glass at a bartender, a little surprised to find it empty so soon. Still, that was good stuff.

“Brienne?” A soft voice asked. Brienne turned. Catelyn Tully—Catelyn Stark, Brienne corrected herself, was sitting there with her own glass.

“Catelyn!” Brienne beamed, partly happy to see her for the first time in at least a year, partly just relieved to find a friendly face.

They hugged, then laughed, then hugged again.

“You look so tan! How was your vacation?” Brienne asked shyly. Ned had spoken of her often while he was at Cersei’s.

Catelyn gave her a look, and took a long defiant gulp of her wine. Brienne let slip a rueful chuckle and took a sip of her own.

“That bad?”

“C’mon let’s find somewhere private,” Catelyn grabbed her arm.

They chose what Brienne had always privately thought of as the reading room—a small second floor nook with plushy armchairs that looked down on the much larger library below.

Catelyn flopped into one, her normally braided auburn hair swinging loose and defiant.

“I think I need to murder my father. Do you think Beric would represent me pro bono?” She said drily.

Brienne smothered another smile. It was nice to feel that she wasn’t the only one in hopelessly over her head.

“I think he still has another year of law school to go,” she tried to play along.

“Nonsense, it’ll be easy. I already have my defense. It’s not guilty by reason of temporary insanity by reason of family vacation,” Catelyn waved her wine glass. Then she looked at it, as if noticing it for the first time.

“I shouldn’t even be drinking! I’m still breast-feeding. Here you take it, you’re empty.”

Brienne looked down at her own glass. So she was. Wow this was great stuff. She’d have to compliment Tyrion later.

“We hadn’t even left for the Summer Islands when my father started in on Ned. How we were living in a shoe box and what kind of life was that for a baby, and nothing had happened that couldn’t be undone, that he had all sorts of eligible sons of friends that wouldn’t mind taking on a divorcee with a young son. Taking me on! Like I was some sort of charity project!”

Brienne shook her head sympathetically.

“And then the entire trip, I was practically running into half the male population of Westeros! I think he would have locked me in a closet with some of these creeps if he’d thought that would work!”

Catelyn shuddered.

“So just to get him off my back I went out to dinner a couple times with Jon Arryn. Remember, from Prep? He’s really sweet and he adores Ned, and he felt terrible about the whole thing and was happy to take me out to dinner and just talk about Proust or whatever. Problem solved right? WRONG! Lysa got all pissy at me! She said she’d always had a crush on him in high school—psh, since when?! And she has Petyr, it’s completely absurd! But anyway, how dare I take HER man. So then she insisted on coming everywhere with us, and the worst thing is I think he WAS kind of interested? Like she’s half his age! My baby sister with Mr. Arryn from senior lit!”

Brienne blushed at the thought.

“And now I come home, and everybody thinks Ned and I are having marriage problems thanks to my father! You would believe how many sympathetic should pats I’ve gotten. It’s been a disaster from start to finish. Brienne, take it from me, family is overrated,” Catelyn sighed.

“Jaime’s aunts and uncles keep staring at me,” Brienne confided. “And I heard his Aunt Genna say that he was embarrassing the whole family. And now Cersei doesn’t want to throw her bouquet to me—I didn’t even know she was going to!—and I’m worried I’ve made a mess of things somehow.”

“The Lannisters are uniformly pieces of work. As far as I’m concerned, Jaime’s the only one who is halfway decent, and the jury is still out on him,” Catelyn hugged her. “If they can’t recognize how special you are, they don’t deserve your company.”

“I don’t want to be the reason Jaime drifts from his family,” Brienne protested.

“He might thank you,” Catelyn reiterated stubbornly. “Have you ever noticed that Genna looks like Kevan in a dress?”

Brienne gave an undignified snort of laughter.

“That’s not true!”

“It is true. Now you’ll never be able to unsee it. You’re welcome.” Catelyn gave a mischievous smirk and pushed herself to her feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a husband who I suspect needs saving.”

Brienne gave her a drowsy wave and settled deeper into her chair. Honestly, she wasn’t in any rush to go anywhere quickly. The wine had made her feel pleasantly toasty and more than a little sleepy. If she were to just close her eyes...

Brienne woke up with a start, feeling like a not insignificant amount of time had passed. Had she missed dinner? Was everyone furious at her? She was about to bounce to her feet and hurry downstairs when a boisterous and distinctively Robert laugh came from below in the library. She frowned and twisted, peeking over the back of her chair. What was Robert doing squirreled away in a library? He was usually the life of the party.

There was another laugh, and Brienne realized it wasn’t Robert at all. It was Steffon Baratheon, and standing next to him SMILING was Tywin Lannister. Brienne reflected that a smiling Tywin Lannister was just as frightening as a non-smiling Tywin Lannister. Really more so.

They were puffing cigars, and Steffon said something in his Robert-y rumble and Tywin made a sound that could have been a throat clearing or could have been a chuckle.

Brienne fled.

In her her haste to escape the creepy Tywin Lannister look-a-like who did things like SMILE and LAUGH, she nearly flattened someone as she rounded the corner to get to the master staircase.

“Oh I’m—Jaime!” Brienne blurted, her boyfriend’s dark green eyes looking dazedly up at her.

“I always told you that you sweep me off my feet,” he grinned weakly.

She pulled him up, and for a moment they just stood, grinning at each other.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, trying not to sound plaintive.

“I’m glad you found me,” he said simply. “C’mon, we’ll miss the fireworks.”

He threaded his hand into her own and she let him pull her down the grand spiral stairs.

All the guests were being ushered onto the Great Lawn and there was a hush of expectancy across the crowd.

“You were right wench, per usual,” Jaime whispered against her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down the bare arch of her neck.

She looked up at him in dismay, squeezing his hand tighter.

“About your family not liking me? I’m sorry, I think they’re getting to Cersei, but I’ll work harder, I can change their minds, I know I can—“

“What?” Jaime kissed her to cut her off. “I am sure they haven’t thought twice about you. That’s not the Lannister way. I was talking about the wedding.”

“The wedding?” Brienne repeated doubtfully. Surely he couldn’t mean what she thought he meant...

“Cersei is completely ridiculously absurdly in love with that moron and I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner,” Jaime said drily. “I officially give it my blessing.”

Brienne beamed at him. Cersei wasn’t the only ridiculously absurd Lannister here.

“But you’re my idiot,” she kissed him. As his lips melted against hers, a spark illuminated the horizon and then the entire sky exploded into golden light.

“Brienne,” Jaime groaned, breaking the kiss to nibble his way down her neck. “You look gorgeous. This is a delightful dress and I want nothing more than to tear it to pieces.”

She giggled, punch drunk, as he rested his head on her bare shoulder, his fingers teasingly trailing down to her hips.

“Stop, we’re in public.” Another burst, red sparks this time, to punctuate her point.

“Everyone’s looking at the fireworks, wench,” Jaime tightened his hold on her hips and pulled her closer, lifting his head to kiss her again.

“And if it at all affects your decision,” he said drily, when they came up for air. “You wouldn’t BELIEVE what a day I’ve had.”

Jaime (Been Away For So Long 3 of x)

Once Ned had said it, it seemed so stupidly simple. Tywin Lannister was the architect of this monstrosity of a wedding. Tywin Lannister could undo it. It would be as simple as informing Cersei that there was no need to get married and the board seat at Lannister Corp would be waiting for her no matter what she did.

Without the carrot of the board seat and the stick of family banishment, Cersei would throw Robert over before the day was up.

But if the Cersei angle was proving ridiculously hard to exploit and there didn’t appear to be a Robert angle, what was the Tywin angle? What was the thing that would make a man not famous for changing his mind, well, change his mind?

And then good old blissfully unaware Ned Stark saved the day again, prattling about childhood friends. Steffon Baratheon. Tywin and Steffon had been childhood friends. And now they weren’t.

All he needed was to get that foghorn of a man in front of his father and there would be fireworks. The metaphorical kind. Hopefully before the literal fireworks, by which point the engagement party would be over.

He wasn’t exactly sure how this hadn’t come up earlier. Clearly Robert had done something to keep his parents out of the picture. But it was child’s play to get Steffon’s cell number from his father’s secretary.

He tried to conjure up Steffon and Cassana in his mind’s eye. Like most of his father’s friends, they hadn’t really been around after his mother’s death when he was ten. Those interminable play dates had dragged on for a few years after that but Steffon and Cassana had become a once-a-year presence at the holiday party. Cassana a light effervescent laugh, a sparkle of jewelry, a strange pang of homesickness for what it would be like to have a mother. Steffon was just rather hearty and loud. A backslapper like his son.

The phone rang and Jaime focused in.

“Steffon Baratheon,” the voice answered and there was an eery moment when he wondered if Robert had managed to get all calls forwarded to his own phone, so alike were their voices. Then he remembered it was Robert, who barely knew how to answer the phone.

“This is Jaime Lannister,” he said smoothly. There was an uncertain pause. “Tywin’s son?”

“Of course! Sorry the service here in Lorath is just too terrible to be believed! You’d think they would have some kind of civilization up here but you’d be wrong.”

Jaime laughed mechanically along with Steffon’s guffaw.

“I just wanted to make sure you’ll be back in time for the engagement party,” he said sweetly.

“You’re engaged? Congratulations! My goodness, you youngsters grow up so fast! What are you now, twenty?”

“Twenty three,” Jaime said, trying to conceal his smile. Oh Robert, you poor sweet imbecile. Did you really think you’d get away with this? “But it’s not me getting engaged. It’s your son Robert. To my sister. This Saturday. You will come, won’t you?”

The line had gone dead.

What did they say in cyvasse? Oh that’s right. Check mate.

He arrived at the party in a good mood. How to celebrate? Champagne. Lots of champagne.

He strode up to the bar, and was surprised to see the very person to whom he owed this coup de grace, namely one Eddard Stark.

“Stark! How the hells are ya?” He grinned and gestured at the bartender for some champagne.

“My life is over,” Ned said gravely.

A bundle of laughs was Eddard Stark.

“Tell me,” Jaime said magnanimously. He considered that they might even be even for the whole ‘throwing him under the bus during the Aerys fiasco’ thing.

“Catelyn has barely said a word to me since we’ve gotten here! Three different people have come up to me and given me their condolences on our impending divorce! This is all Hoster Tully’s doing, I know it! What am I supposed to do?” Ned looked up plaintively.

“I’ll tell you what to do,” Jaime clasped his shoulder firmly. “Get some liquid courage in you. Then march over to Hoster Tully, accuse him of sabotaging your marriage in front of everybody and tell him what you really think of him.”

“You think that’ll work?” Ned said uncertainly.

“Of course,” Jaime kept a straight face. “Hoster Tully is a bully. The only thing bullies respond to is force. You need to show him that you are a man to be reckoned with, that you won’t back down. And if you make that clear, he’ll crumble like cheese.”

“If you say so,” Ned frowned.

“I do,” Jaime gave him a dazzling smile.

There. NOW they were even.

He reached for the phone that he’d put on the bar when he’d waved to flag the bartender down, but his grasping hand met only the bar top. Odd. He could have sworn it was right there. He’d wanted to text his wench and then gotten distracted by the champagne. He checked his pockets. Not there either. He did have it before didn’t he? Had he left it in the car? Hells, how was he supposed to find Brienne now?

He scanned the huge party slightly despondently looking for a familiar blonde head bobbing above the crowd. No luck.

Jaime resolved to find Tyrion and borrow his phone. Tyrion at least was usually easy to find. Jaime headed for the wine cellar.

Unlike Eddard Stark, Tyrion seemed blissfully out of it. He was lying on his back on the floor, head resting on his laced together hands.

Jaime snorted at him and proceeded to lay down next to him, adopting the same pose.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here? Overwhelmed by the beauty of so much wine in one place?”

“It is beautiful,” Tyrion agreed, his mismatched eyes twinkling. “But I will have you know that I am reflecting on weightier matters.”

“Oh?” Jaime rolled on his side to regard his younger brother.

“As of tonight,” Tyrion began dramatically, “I am a man.”

“You don’t mean...” Jaime’s brow furrowed.

“I had sex. Right about where you’re lying.”

Jaime hastily stood and brushed himself off.

“Congrats! Was it everything you hoped it’d be?” He teased.

“I think I’m in love,” Tyrion said dreamily.

“You’re not in love,” Jaime rolled his eyes.

“I am. Her name is Tysha Crofter, and she’s 21 and she works as the third assistant sommelier at the Crossroads Inn.”

“What are her interests?” Jaime asked wryly.

Tyrion shrugged serenely.

“Sex in wine cellars, presumably. Oh shoot, that reminds me. You haven’t seen Tyrek have you?”

“Which one is Tyrek?” Jaime frowned. “Martyn’s brother?”

“No that’s Willem, Tyrek is Tygett’s youngest. Brienne left him in my charge when I saw Tysha beckoning. So naturally...”

“Naturally you took the child to an adult to be looked after?” Jaime ventured hopefully.

Tyrion shook his head indulgently.

“Naturally I told him we were going to play hide and seek so he better find a really REALLY good hiding spot.”

Jaime opened his mouth and then shut it. Then he replayed that conversation.

“You’ve seen Brienne?”

“Yup,” Tyrion shrugged.

“Which way did she go?”

“Um that way I think. She was running around with a list of instructions from Cersei,” Tyrion shook his head.

“And how is our beloved sister?” Jaime asked, feeling pleased that he was clearly close to catching up with Brienne.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her yet. Not like her to not be the center of attention,” Tyrion said.

“Probably wants to make an entrance. For what father’s paying for her dress, she’s going to arrive dripping in peacock feathers and diamonds,” Jaime smiled wryly.

“Well she should get a move on, I don’t want to miss her entrance, but I should really be...”

“Finding Tyrek,” Jaime supplied, right as Tyrion said, “Finding Tysha.

“Jaime,” Tyrion said pleadingly. “I’m in love.”

Jaime ground his teeth.

Instead of calling Brienne and arranging a rendez-vous in some secret hideaway (the old treehouse came to mind), he began methodically working his way through the bowels of Casterly Rock, wondering where he would hide if he were a small snotty child like all his cousins inevitably seemed to be.

It didn’t help that Casterly Rock was full of nooks and crannies and about a billion different wings, each with their own maze of corridors. After an hour of this, Jaime was starting to think he was going mad. He had an eery sensation of being watched, and glared at the hundredth portrait of a Lannister relative he passed, just to make it clear that he was not intimidated by them and their stupid noses.

“Tyrek?” He poked his head up onto the second floor landing of the east wing, where all the bedrooms were. A child of approximately the correct age greeted him, but was both the wrong gender and coloring.

“Hullo Jeyne,” Jaime tried to smile at his family butler’s daughter. “Have you seen my cousin Tyrek? About your height, and though my memory is spotty, I would guess blond hair, green eyes and rather smug looking?”

Jeyne shook her head.

“Well if you do, give me a shout,” Jaime sighed. He was getting rather anxious to get back to the party proper and make sure the Baratheons got ample face time with his father. How much harm could one kid really get up to?

There was a rustling sound from a bedroom in the back.

Gotcha.

Jaime eased into the guest suite and looked around suspiciously. He was in the sitting room, although there was a bedroom attached to that and a bathroom beyond that.

He scanned the three rooms, trying to determine where the sound would have come from. Was that bed skirt just a little crooked? Like maybe somebody had slipped under it?

Jaime started to advance stealthily toward the bed.

“I know what you did,” the all-too-familiar growl came from behind him.

Jaime spun to see Stannis leaning in the doorway. Worse, leaning while holding the guest suite key in one hand.

“Have you been following me?” Jaime asked lightly, edging back toward the sitting room.

“For some time,” Stannis said, deliberately locking and unlocking the door with the key, watching the bolt turn in and out.

“Freaking shadow assassin,” Jaime tried to joke while getting close enough to spring.

“Bringing my parents into this was over the line. But in a way, I’m glad you did,” Stannis glared at him.

“Oh?” Just five steps closer and he could jump for it.

“It’s made me re-evaluate my feelings on the wedding. I’ve come to stop—“

Jaime leaped for the door only to smash into it as Stannis slammed it in his face. He shrugged off the stinging pain and grabbed for the knob—only KA-CHUNK, the lock turned.

“FUCK! STANNIS YOU PRICK!”

Jaime took a few steps back and took another running charge at the door. It shuddered but did not give. He prepared to do it again, only for there to be a horrendous screeching sound from the hall.

“What are you doing?!” Jaime snapped.

“Moving... a... chest,” Stannis huffed, “in front of the door. Now try to knock it down all you want to.”

Jaime repeatedly kicked the door, just to prove that he wasn’t giving up.

“I think some time for reflection might do you good,” Stannis said firmly from the other side.

“You really are the worst ally ever,” Jaime groused.

“Please. I prefer to think of us as neutral at best.”

“ARG!!!” Jaime threw himself against the door again. Not because it would help, just because it made him feel mildly better.

“Goodbye Jaime,” Stannis said and Jaime heard the footsteps receding down the hallway.

He gave the door a last sullen kick. Fuck, he could probably rely on his father and Steffon to be at each other’s throats without his assistance, but how could that miserable stick in the mud Stannis keep him from Brienne’s company all night?!

There was a soft sneeze from under the bed.

“Right,” Jaime rolled his eyes. “Out you go—“ he reached under, grabbed a handful of blond hair and yanked.

“Ow!” Said a fully adult sized human, grabbing at his wrist.

“What the hell!” Jaime yelped and scrambled back.

Beric Dondarrion crawled sheepishly out from under the bed.

“Hi Jaime, I’m sorry to um intrude.”

Jaime ran a hand through his hair, considering just pulling it out entirely.

“What are you doing under the bed of one of our guest rooms?!”

Beric cleared his throat.

“I realize this seems unusual but there was this young girl well... stalking me. It was making me rather uncomfortable, so I decided to lose her.”

Jaime flashed back on Jeyne Westerling, wandering the hallway by herself. He groaned.

“I don’t suppose you have a cell phone?”

Beric shook his head glumly.

“Thoros made me give mine to him before the party, I’ve been having some um let’s call them anxiety issues? He thinks checking social media on my phone all the time is making it worse.”

Come to think of it, Dondarrion did look rather twitchy, even for him.

Jaime sighed. Great. He couldn’t even be alone to sulk in peace. Instead he had earnest goody-two-shoes Beric to be like ‘why would you ever try to deliberately sabotage your sister’s wedding, that’s a horrible thing to do!’ Wimp. Jamie sighed again louder.

“Do you need to talk about something?” Beric asked tentatively.

See?! People just couldn’t let him be.

“Well since you won’t stop badgering me, here’s what’s going on,” Jaime began, before proceeding to fill Beric in on the details.

“Why would you ever try to deliberately sabotage your sister’s wedding, that’s a horrible thing to do!” Beric exclaimed.

Jaime glared.

“First Stannis agrees with me!! Or did agree with me. Traitor. Second, I’m trying to save my sister! How can that be a bad thing?!”

“Have you actually tried to talk to her about this?” Beric asked.

“Yes! I’ve hinted in a thousand different ways that Robert is some kind of genetic experiment that escaped from the monkey lab. She never picks up on it!”

“No, I mean, have you said, ‘Cersei, I’m worried you’re getting married for the wrong reasons’?!”

“What do you know! You’re an only child!” Jaime snapped. Okay, it was settled. He would be damned if he had to spend this entire evening stuck with Beric Dondarrion, the boy on their highschool football team that used to volunteer them to do more laps in practice.

He charged the door again, this time taking a running start.

“Oof!” He grunted as bounced off. Again. And again. And again.

“I wish Thoros were here,” Beric said sadly.

Jaime took a breather from breaking down the door (as he was rather dizzy and his shoulder was starting to hurt), to cast Beric a withering glare.

“As far as I’m aware, Asshai’s only super power is inhuman alcohol tolerance. Would you care to explain how that would be useful?” Jaime scowled. He hoped Beric wasn’t one of those people that was constantly pining after their significant other...

“He can also pick locks,” Beric said bluntly.

“Oh,” Jaime said stymied and collapsed on the floor in defeat. He wondered what Brienne was doing.

“I think you’re being too hard on Robert,” Beric volunteered pensively from where he was now lying on the bed.

“I’m really not,” Jaime gave back, still staring at the ceiling. “Nobody has ever been hard on him in his stupidly charmed life.”

“Maybe he’s grown as a person?”

“Said the guy who just got dragged into a bar brawl with him like a month ago,” Jaime snarked. Grown as a person... maybe in the gut.

Beric didn’t even used to like Robert! This was a post-Thoros development, and Jaime did not approve at all. He wasn’t even sure if, had he actually cared, he would really approve of their relationship. Not Beric being gay, because when he thought about that, it really explained a great deal. But Beric was wound as tightly as they came, and Thoros was the sort to go with the flow even if it was off a waterfall. Kind of like Cersei and... NO! STOP IT!

Jaime jumped to his feet to get his brain off the wedding. Things were fine, he had won, game over, the end.

Beric was eyeing him warily.

“Are you okay?”

“Peachy. You know what they say, whenever the Father closes a door, he...” Jaime trailed off.

“Opens a window?” Beric finished helpfully. Then followed Jaime’s stare. “Oh. Oh dear. I don’t think that’s a good...”

Jaime ran to the window and began struggling to lift it. This guest suite was rarely used (as it would require Tywin Lannister to host guests), and the window gave part of the way, but no more. Jaime looked at the six inches of space dubiously. He stuck his head out the window and looked up. The latticework on this side of the house had been drenched with flowers, and they were preventing the window from going further. If someone could just get out and clear them, someone significantly skinnier than himself, he would be able to climb out and shimmy across to his own room to safety.

Jaime turned back to Beric. Beric swallowed.

“I think if we just wait, someone will eventually find—“

“I think I see Jeyne Westerling! Shall I call for help?” Jaime cut him off. Beric reddened.

“No? Okay, out you go,” Jaime shooed him toward the window.

Beric stuck his head out cautiously. Sure enough, with enough twisting, and some helpful threats from Jaime, he managed to clamber out until he was clinging to the trellises, trembling like a leaf.

“What are you just sitting there for, you need to clear the flowers that are jamming the window shut,” Jaime said impatiently.

“I am scared of heights,” Beric ground out, still shaking.

Jaime blinked. Well that was inconvenient.

“It’s one story Beric, and there’s half a botanical garden of bushes down there. If you fell, you’d be fine,” he said. He was pretty sure he was right. “Now get moving!”

Beric slowly managed to get himself high enough to start pulling away the flowers. Jaime tried to be patient and supportive.

“Before I get old, Dondarrion!”

Finally, the window gave and Jaime shoved it upwards. Freedom! Stay strong Brienne, I’m on my way!

“Woah! Where do you think you’re going?!” Beric yelped. Jaime stared at him.

“To my bedroom, which as discussed, is three windows over?”

Honestly, he thought Dondarrion was supposed to be smart.

“It won’t hold both our weight! You have to let me go first!”

“I can’t let you go first,” Jaime rolled his eyes. “The party will be over at the rate you’re going. Stop worrying, it’ll be fine.”

He swung out one leg, tested his foothold, then swung out the other.

Several times happened simultaneously.

There was a creaking snap as the wood of the trellises gave, and with a groan, the entire structure below them toppled outward like a falling domino.

Jaime let out a thoroughly undignified squawk as he started to fall, grabbing the first thing at hand.

Beric let out an equally undignified eep! as Jaime grabbed him around the waist, feet kicking wildly as they dangled.

There was a pause as they took stock.

“Close call,” Jaime said brightly.

Beric’s pants began to slid downward.

“Oh no,” Beric whimpered.

“Crap,” Jaime sighed, as his grip went from Beric’s waist, to his butt, to his knees. He looked up at Beric staring down at him in mute horror. “Cute briefs? Like the purple lightning bolts.”

Beric moaned.

And then the pants slid over his shoes, and Jaime had a split second to reflect that he wished he’d chosen better final words before he crashed into the shrubs.

There was a second while Jaime assessed the situation.

“Um Jaime?” Beric whisper-called. Like a dozen people wouldn’t have heard the entire flower wall collapsing.

“Present,” Jaime waved a feeble hand. “See, I told you, nothing to worry about.”

He struggled out of the bushes, ripping his own tuxedo a bit in the process. He plucked a twig out of his hair.

“Now were I you,” Jaime squinted up at the still dangling Dondarrion, “I would scamper over to my room before people come and see you in your skivvies. I’ll just fold up your pants and leave them here,” he patted a clear patch of ground.

“Can’t you just bring them up to your room?!” Beric hissed.

“I mean I could,” Jaime scratched his head. “But I really need to find Brienne. Sorry Beric. Maybe next time.”

“What next time?!” Beric shouted, before he remembered he was trying to be quiet.

Jaime gave a mock salute and walked toward the main wing, whistling a jaunty tune.

Sure his ankle hurt a little bit, and there were bits of twigs in his hair, and his outfit had seen better days but Brienne’s gorgeous legs in a fancy dress were worth it. Nothing was going to stop him now.

Jaime (Been Away For So Long 4 of x)

Jaime was looking for Brienne when he turned a corner and saw Cersei standing with her back to him, hands on her hips, glaring at a helicopter with the Stormsend Shipping logo on it. He slowed down, a slight smile twitching across his face. Well, maybe just a brief moment to savor his victory.

“How’re tricks?” He pulled his sister into a one armed hug. He would have kissed the top of her head, but her hair was set into some kind of sparkly bejeweled crown. He settled for hip-checking her.

“I have to move that helicopter,” Cersei squinted at it stoically, barely registering his presence.

“That’s right, I saw the Baratheons came!” Jaime tried to sound innocently amused.

“Hmmm. It’s where I have the surprise fireworks display tonight. But if I tell Steffon Baratheon he has to move his stupid chopper for the fireworks, that... that... WOMAN will find some way to ruin them!”

“I’m sure somebody around here knows how to fly a helicopter,” Jaime said blithely. “Not in Robert’s skill set?”

Cersei made another noncommittal noise, then finally broke her staring contest with the aircraft.

“I have to think it over. But in the meantime, I’m glad I found you. Where have you been?!”

“Oh here and there and locked away,” Jaime flapped a hand airily. Cersei gave him a distinctly unimpressed look.

“Well you’ve done it now. Aunt Genna is furious that you’ve left your date unattended. She says it’s the height of rudeness and your manners reflect poorly on the entire family. She was becoming rather apoplectic on the subject when I left,” Cersei informed him.

“Remind me why you want to name biscuit after that harridan?” Jaime snarked to conceal the stab of guilt he felt. He was coming Brienne! Even if he had to brave a thousand Stannis Baratheons and Beric Dondarrions and yes, Tyrion Lannisters.

Oh right.

“Our brother just lost his virginity in the wine cellar. He says he’s in love,” Jaime told Cersei.

“I’ll take care of it,” Cersei shook her head at the notion. “She’s completely unsuitable for him. She didn’t even know what a white burgundy was. Oh. Speaking of family. I need to give you something. It’s in my bedroom.”

“Right now?” Jaime inched away, toward the crowd milling before him, hoping to spot Brienne and grab her before he was kidnapped.

Cersei put her hand on his arm, and Jaime tried not to wince as her nails bit in.

“Right now,” she said sweetly, and the Lannister twins proceeded back into the house.

“I know the timing‘s not the best,” she said absently as she shut the door to her bedroom. It was the same pastel pink he remembered. Now that he thought about it, he suspected she’d chosen a matching shade for her nursery.

What he did not expect was for her to stand on her bed and start unscrewing the air vent panel.

“I think that’s a little small for you to escape out of,” he joked.

“Oh hush, just hold on a second—“ she reached in and retrieved a fuchsia child’s safe.

“Hey!” Jaime did a double take. “I know that safe! I got it for you when we were seven because you always insisted on being the banker in Monopoly!”

“Yep,” Cersei agreed. She spun the lock to a series of numbers too quickly for Jamie to register and there was a click as it opened. Then she carefully pulled a single hair out of the mechanism and placed it on her pillow.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” Jaime chuckled. It had been her favorite gift that year, more even than the miniature pony or the custom leather handbag from a famous designer.

“I keep my treasures in here,” Cersei patted the safe fondly.

“Your treasures?” Jaime asked.

“You know, like my secret precious things that I don’t want anyone else to ever find,” Cersei said as if that was a normal thing people did.

“Right,” Jaime nodded. Sometimes with Cersei, it was best to play along. “Your treasures.”

“I want you to have this,” Cersei plucked something out of the box and held it out to him.

It was his mother’s ring.

“What?” He said stupidly, staring at the old-fashioned diamond, the well worn band, a piece of jewelry that he’d once memorized every last scratch of. He remembered sitting in the hospital, holding his mother’s hand. Seeing that ring sparkle, like Joanna Lannister had sparkled, even at the end.

“I’m not saying now or anything, gods can you imagine?! At my own engagement party?! I’d have to hire someone and have you killed. But you never come back to Casterly Rock if you can help it and I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to give this to you. So someday. When you’re ready. I think she’d really like her, you know.”

“Who?” Jaime said, still staring at the ring.

“Brienne,” Cersei rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I think mother would really like Brienne.”

“Oh,” Jaime swallowed and looked down so she wouldn’t see that his eyes had unexpectedly teared. “I know she would. I mean... thank you.”

He crushed her into a real hug, hair and makeup be damned. His sister, his twin, his best friend. He would do terrible things to make her happy. Not that he would ever say that of course.

“You’re not bad,” he said instead.

“I am perfect,” she scoffed, and then walked over to the mirror to fix her braid.

Jaime used the moment to peek inside the safe.

There was a picture of the two of them on a swing set, grinning with no front teeth. He chuckled, remembering how embarrassed Cersei had been and how he’d knocked his own baby teeth out to cheer her up.

There was a set of earrings his mother had loved, a picture of all of them when Tyrion had just been born. A plastic princess tiara she’d worn every day for a year. A Barbie he didn’t recognize—

“What’s this?” He lifted the Barbie to for her to see.

“Present from Robert. Seventeenth birthday,” she glanced over her shoulder and went back to the mirror.

—a picture of her and Robert wearing goofy fake mustaches at prom. A clipping from the Aerie’s school newspaper, showing them dancing at some sorority social. A letter in Robert’s stupid childish scrawl. A soda can tab.

“How about this?” He lifted the tab.

“Oh,” Cersei plucked it from him and put it back in the safe. “Robert proposed with that. He’s so cheesy sometimes, it’s awful.”

She closed the safe rapidly, and shoved it back into the air vent without looking at him.

Jaime blinked. Fuck.

“Cersei,” he began slowly. “Do you love Robert?”

“Of course,” she said flippantly.

“No, c’mon, I’m being serious. Is he the one?”

She looked at him, and blushed, and looked away again.

“The one? You’re so sentimental Jaime, it’s absurd,” she said, coolly disdainful, although she would still not look at him.

“Seven hells, you do!” Jaime sat down on her bed with a thump. “I thought it was just sex!” Oh gods. This meant Brienne was right.

“Of course it’s just sex!” She protested.

And not just Brienne. It meant Beric was right.

“You LOVE him,” Jaime accused, drawing out the word in a childish sing-song to disguise his dawning horror. Because oh no.

“No stop it, I do not!” She threw a pillow at him.

It meant Stannis was right.

“You want to marry Robert and have billions of great goony Baratheon babies!” Jaime gasped. Awful great lummoxes like Robert. Sullen sour grammarians like Stannis. Melodramatic little crybabies like Renly. It boggled the mind.

“Stop it! You’re being ridiculous!” Cersei stomped her foot. “Father is forcing me to marry him, I don’t have a choice!”

“But if you did have a choice,” Jaime leaned forward, pointing with an accusing finger. “You would choose him.”

“I... I,” Cersei stammered. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

And that was as close to a declaration of love as Cersei Lannister would ever get. To him, anyway.

“Huh,” he sat back.

“He makes me happy,” Cersei said finally, softly.

Jaime swallowed, stood up and hugged her again.

“He is so lucky,” he said firmly. Then he took a deep breath and tried not to gag. “And I’m happy for you.”

There. Done. He really would do terrible things for her.

Then he exited the room, twisting the ring nervously in his pocket. Because it was possible that maybe he wasn’t quite done. It was conceivable, that from a certain angle, he had perhaps made a bit of a mess of things. That in some lights, one might come to the conclusion that he had some serious smoothing over to do.

First he stopped in his father’s study. No Tywin.

Next he stopped in his father’s bedroom. No Tywin.

Third he stopped in the library, and he saw his father pouring a glass of scotch and he almost fell to his knees in relief. He wasn’t too late, they hadn’t had their blow-out fight yet, he could grab his father and say.... say... say something, even if he didn’t know what he would say yet and Jaime took another step into the library and then paused.

Tywin was pouring a second glass of scotch.

Jaime stared as his father gave it to Steffon Baratheon and they clinked glasses.

“To a Baratheon-Lannister dynasty!! Long may they reign!” Steffon toasted boisterously, and Tywin made a sort of exhale noise that could, in a certain light, coming from another person be a laugh... Nope.

Jaime hurried out of the library to compose himself.

Was it really possible that despite his best efforts, there was nothing to fix at all? It was unstoppable this wedding. It steamrolled even forces of nature like Tywin Lannister.

So wow. He was in the clear. He could go back to the party and find Brienne and…

Robert Baratheon slid around the corner, his dress shoes apparently providing less traction than he was used to. He focused in on the library, and saw Tywin Lannister facing his father. Jaime could almost see the gears in his brain turning, slowly, painfully, arriving at the conclusion that he was doomed.

Robert gulped, squared his shoulders, and…

“Whoah,” Jaime grabbed his arm before he could charge into the library and make an ass of himself. Well, more of an ass of himself.

“They are by some miracle getting along,” Jaime informed him. “And if you walk in now, you might see my father smiling, and it has been known to turn weaker spirits to stone.”

Robert blinked at him.

Jaime mentally facepalmed.

“Nobody is in trouble,” he explained slowly, as he might to a child. “Don’t go in or you might ruin it.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done nothing but try to sabotage this wedding from the beginning.”

Um okay. Fair.

“Yes. But I was,” Jaime coughed. “Wrong,” he added under his breath.

“I didn’t catch that,” Robert tilted his head.

Jaime scowled, scanning his face suspiciously for signs of the lie. As always, it was innocently blank.

“I have spoken to my sister. I think, for quite unfathomable reasons, she might actually like you. So… you know. I’m done trying to mess things up for you. And for what it’s worth, if we’re going to be family, we’re going to be family. That means something to me.”

A goofy grin broke across Robert’s face. Jaime had one second to regret initiating this conversation before Robert had crushed him into a bear hug.

“I knew you’d come around! This’ll be great! Wait… do you want to come to my stag party? You don’t have to say yes. You know, just think about it. Only it’s going to be amazing. We’re staying at a palace. Ned’s got everything arranged! There’s going to be Dornish wines and Dornish food and Dornish women and…”

Jaime, who was having the breath slowly squeezed out of him, frantically hit Robert on the arm to try and tap out of whatever this strange outburst of happy violence was happening.

“Oh, sorry,” Robert dropped him. Jaime wheezed slightly, feeling his ribs. One twinged angrily. Ouch. Add a bruised rib to his list of injuries for the evening?

“Well?” Robert asked hopefully. What was he talking about? Jaime chanced a nod.

“YES! It’s going to be the…”

Oh no…

“BEST! STAG! EVER!”

Dear gods, what had he done?

“I can’t believe this is all working out. This is great,” Robert beamed. “Who’d have thought Tywin would actually make peace with my dad. I’d have assumed he poisoned the whiskey. Or had like a sniper or a crossbowman up in the balcony waiting to take a shot.”

Jaime had been mostly tuning him out, until that last comment. Ridiculous. Just Robert being his normal comic-book happy self. His father wouldn’t do that.

“Like that total creep he took to break into my apartment in the middle of the night.”

All the same.

“Or maybe he’s rigged the helicopter to explode when they leave? Like an Aerys thing?”

Jaime considered that there was no harm in checking.

“I’ve got to go… do something,” he mumbled.

Robert waved a cheerful goodbye, and Jaime made his escape, hurrying up the stairs because really the more he thought about it the more it seemed like something his father would maybe—

“Oof,” he ran straight into someone and landed hard on his butt. He looked up.

Brienne blinked back down at him, her sky blue eyes round in surprise. She was wearing a slip of a dress in a peachy color that just hinted at nude, and Jaime followed the lines of the dress helplessly downwards toward the miles of legs below. She pulled him up and he resisted the urge to push her against the staircase and kiss her senseless.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she breathed, and dear gods those lips were made to be kissed.

“I’m glad you found me,” he grinned, only thinking of getting her somewhere secluded and dark. “C’mon, we’ll miss the fireworks.”

“And I can’t even do that right,” he finished his tale of woe, as people around them cheered for another crackle of light and shower of sparks. “We walked straight into the thick of things!”

“Maybe this is karma,” Brienne fought a smile.

“Pfff,” Jaime flapped a hand. “Things turned out fine. Stannis clearly built some kind of Tywin Lannister robot and has locked my father in a dungeon somewhere until the wedding is over.”

“Shouldn’t you rescue him then?” Brienne teased, playing along.

“I’d rather rescue you,” Jaime smirked, “from this terrible den of debauchery. Come milady, take my hand.”

“I don’t want to miss the fireworks,” Brienne protested, but followed him all the same, giggling as they stumbled through the darkness, their path only periodically illuminated by the sky above.

“We’ll have a great view of the fireworks, and when they’re over, it’s secluded enough that we can make our own,” Jaime promised, dipping his voice into a growl and pulling her along. Where was it, where was it... here it was.

“Up you go, my love,” he bowed gallantly. Brienne squinted dubiously at the rope ladder, before kicking off her heels and starting up. Of course he had to start up immediately below her, so he could kiss her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee. He licked a long trail up her thigh, the chiffon of the dress only the gauziest of deterrents to going higher still.

“Jaime!” Brienne moaned, sitting at the top, her eyes fluttered shut.

Jaime took another two steps up, so he could better work her dress off with one hand as the other hand went further still, curling and...

“Please don’t stop on our account,” Thoros Asshai drawled sarcastically from where he was sitting in the corner.

Brienne yelped, drawing her legs away from Jaime and up against her chest. Suddenly bereft, he looked forlornly. Thoros was facing the great lawn, swinging his legs off the side of the platform. Next to him, Melisandre Asshai was lifting her head slightly to accept a joint from Oberyn Martell. All three had briefly paused in what they were doing, and the next crackle of light across their faces revealed they were all staring, ranging from amused to intrigued.

“Seriously, you shouldn’t stop,” Melisandre Asshai’s sly smile was dimly illuminated by the end of the blunt she was holding from where she was lying on the floor. She blew a puff of smoke at them languidly before passing it backward over her head to her brother. Brienne gave a slight cough as the familiar vaguely pungent smell of weed washed over them.

“Unless you’d like some company,” Oberyn Martell purred.

“No, um sorry, we just came for the er… view,” Brienne stammered, her skin flushing beautifully.

“Lannister’s view in particular looked exquisite,” Oberyn flashed her a perfectly white smile, as if he too were enjoying her blush.

Jaime growled and clambered the rest of the way up to position himself between Brienne and certain annoyingly cocky Dornish snakes who would keep their eyes to themselves if they knew what was good for them.

There was a series of explosions across the sky, gold and silver, and Brienne rested her head on his shoulder. Jaime put his arm around her and tried not to sulk.

“This is not how I imagine this evening going,” he whispered to her, even as he swiped the joint from Thoros.

“Karma,” Brienne whispered back, and he blew another puff of smoke into her face as retaliation.

“There’s no such thing as karma,” Jaime retorted haughtily.

“Mmmm, Stannis and I had sex for the first time under fireworks,” Melisandre said, tilting her face back to admire them.

“Gross,” Thoros said.

“Tell me more,” Oberyn twisted to look at her.

“Or don’t,” Thoros offered.

“It was New Year’s Eve,” Melisandre smiled mischievously, ignoring her brother. “On the hood of Jaime’s car.”

“WHAT?!”

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