#its just incredibly apparent to me living with these roommates and going to school and everyone just reinforcing heteronoemative ideals. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haikyuuhimbosandhypebeasts · 3 years

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Heliotrope

Here’s my submission for the Forget Me Not collab for Anisylum! Please note the TW as it is VERY heavy. This piece is entirely SFW though!

Ship: Tsukishima Kei x GN! Reader Genre: Angst, but some fluff in some places. Word Count: 2.2k Trigger/Content Warnings: near death experience, hospitalization, COVID-19, vomit mention, amnesia after hospitalization, a suicide attempt is briefly mentioned, swearing because this is by me Sexy Sexy Masterlist: here!

Sand clung to skin and the harsher rays of light that usually cascaded and burnt you had died away into a fading tangerine glow. You perched comfortably on the sand, taking note of the undulating waves- they were like you in the sense that while you could crash down hard on the opposition, you would shy away in a fragile manner when faced with gentle treatment. Perhaps it was that you felt you weren’t worth such luxuries that you found it hard to make friends through your first few years of high school. Perhaps it was trying to push people away because you were afraid yet alarmingly aware of your mortality. Perhaps it was something else entirely, something you weren’t quite ready to come to terms with. What you did know was that you weren’t alone in the violent struggle through high school to make friends while you had your walls up. Next to you was someone you never thought you’d share your favorite place with; in any terms you found this boy appalling with his behavior. So appalling, you saw yourself in the way he closed himself off and cut those close with tongue lashings. You knew this only through another friend who took issue with him as you went to another school in an entire other prefecture. Words mauled their way out from your throat, breaking the silence between you and Tsukishima Kei. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life.” You didn’t understand yourself. Why would you say that…? You don’t remember anything like this at all… His response was equally incoherent and odd. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.” When you opened your mouth to reply to him, the ground around you suddenly reared up like a defensive serpent. A pillar of beach sand forced its way from the ground into your throat, suffocating and trapping your lungs in permanent fullness. You could only gag and cry, unable to even see Tsukishima past the torrent of sand breaking into your body with the intent to kill you slowly…

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You woke up once more in that dull grey-blue and white room with the only sounds you could properly process being the beep of a heart monitor somewhere behind you. You had managed to halfway curl into somewhat resembling the fetal position, but something kept making you cough and gag as your throat was caught. You move your hand to whatever is catching and about to make you vomit- a tube. This tube, you followed, was in your nose good and solid, and you felt it deep enough in your sinuses you didn’t dare try to pull it out. Moving your hands felt foreign like you had forgotten how to process being human and natural motions like that. You testingly ran your right hand down the tube, taking care to not tug and cause discomfort. Your other hand came to rest on your face. It was slick from sweat, likely due to whatever the fuck you just had a dream about. At the corner of your lips was another tube and when you followed where it led it was taped to the side of your face. You lick your lips and manage to almost fall into a haze until you see movement for the first time in what feels like forever. To be fair, it is one of the most jarring appearances of a person you’ve seen in your whole life to what you can recall. A person in a full-body hazmat suit enters your room through a door you hadn’t even processed was there, then greets you as casually as they can through a plague-resistant suit. “Hey there.” You squint at them. Yeah, you have no fucking idea who this cosplayer in a hospital is, and while you should probably be polite, you feel like you got ran over not once but twice. You try to speak to them, but you can’t. You don’t have the air for it, it’s like you have no control over your breathing. Clarity washes over you. You’re hospitalized. These are tubes because you were asleep and weren’t breathing or eating right. The realization must show on your face because your nurse speaks up again. “Don’t worry about me too much, we’re just gonna check your vitals and if you feel up to it, we can see how you do without the ventilators.” You try to manage out a “whoopee”, which unimpressively comes out as some form of odd wheeze, and your nurse begins by grabbing the blood pressure cuff covered in protective plastic while they wear a sympathetic expression.

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Once you were off the ventilator, the nurse informed you about what had happened. Apparently, an ambulance was called when you were unresponsive and nearly blue in the face, sitting in front of your refrigerator with the door open. You were diagnosed with a severe case of COVID-19, something you had feared would wipe you out entirely and turn you past tense since its spread in your country. This fear wasn’t entirely irrational, either- you were immunocompromised and have been since you were a child. You grew up with being careful around others and hearing of a highly contagious new strain was something that filled you with so much paranoia you seriously considered quitting your current career and instead adopting a hermit lifestyle while completing college at home. Of course, such a thought was squashed by the slowly impending thought of rent, bills, due dates for assignments, and your bitch of a manager who lets people get close to you without a mask on. It’s not a big deal, (y/n), she once said to you. You wanted to shoehorn some tubes down her throat just to survive, see how that felt. It didn’t help that human resources wouldn’t listen to your complaint. They brushed it off since you were just a lowly sandwich maker at a chain sub place. If you had enough scraped together for lawyers right about now, they’d be totally fucked, you thought to yourself. Even more jarring is that it seemed you lost a handful of memories while in the hospital. You could remember basic outlines of people in your head- your very tall and incredibly testy roommate, your younger sister who wore glasses and was much smaller than you, and… a foggy memory of a man with messy black bedhead who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder. It hurt to think too hard. The doctor soon came by to give you test results, to check your vitals again, and to look over your records. He was a bit terse, but you can’t make the best judgments of people when they’re in plastic suits. “We’ll need to get you cleaned up by tomorrow and you should be able to head home,” he’d said, looking over your chart. You didn’t necessarily feel too ecstatic about your trip to your apartment. You remembered your roommate and how finicky he was, and you dreaded for him to belittle you over your condition. You dreaded it enough to even feel a knot of anxiety form in your stomach, wrenched in between your ribs without the intent of ever coming out. “We’ve already contacted uh…” The doctor squints at the screen, “Tsukishima… to come to pick you up tomorrow at noon. We’ll have care instructions printed out. You still have to quarantine for about a week more since your immune system isn’t at its most prime currently.” You agreed, it probably wasn’t a good recovery idea to make a couple of sammies for the public while you were recovering from a virus that had you intubated. He seemed grateful that you were lucid and cooperative, at least.

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You, predictably, didn’t sleep well after being in a medically induced haze for several days. Even more predictably, you found yourself awake from anxieties of the future. Tomorrow was only a few hours away, and then you’d be home. Home… what did that look like for you? The fog in your head was thick initially. You do remember coming home from classes at a different time than Tsukishima, how when you entered he’d often be reading over homework. You remembered how sometimes he would be in the shower and the scent of cheap green apple soap filled the living room connected to it. You remembered… You remembered holding his thin frame in your arms on a bridge, pulling him back from oncoming traffic. You remember how you both collapsed and how the cold autumn air stung your lungs. You remember wide golden eyes staring back at you, as tears slowly filled them, then his normally impartial voice breaking as he hiccuped a sob, “Why? Why did you have to be in Sendai right now?” You felt tears stinging your eyes and a lump form in your throat. You found yourself in distress of your new emotions. Maybe… maybe you can sleep this horrible feeling off. Maybe this fog in your head where you need to know how deep your relationship ran will lift once you get genuine sleep.

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Finally, a knock on the door encouraged you to rouse from your sleeping state. And eloquently, you spoke your true feelings in your sleep-deprived state, “No.” You hear the doorknob turn and the door open. There’s a lack of a greeting from your nurse nor a quick apology from your doctor for interrupting your sleep. Actually, if you’re gonna use logic, what nurse or doctor is gonna wake up their peacefully sleeping patient in recovery? Thought of it being your doctor or nurse practically evaporates once the intruder has a seat on your bed. They still haven’t spoken, so now you’re remembering what tricks of self-defense you learned online to give this person a proper ass-kicking for getting way too close. You crack your hazy eyes open to get a look at where they’re sitting and you stop dead in your thoughts as wary gold eyes peer down at you. Your eyes widen out of reflex and butterflies bloom from your stomach at seeing what you now remember is your roommate. “I knew you were awake,” He said, a wry smile on his face. His expression was betrayed by his concerned gaze, though, “Wow, you look like shit.” You don’t know entirely why past his comment feeling not as an insult, but almost as a compliment, but you smile a little, “I feel like it too.” His expression doesn’t change. He runs a large calloused hand through the tresses of your hair, though, as if to soothe you. The doctor walked in and apologized for interrupting the moment between the two of you, unsure if it was something serious. You told him it was nothing because that’s what it was to you.

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The car ride wasn’t filled with the snarky banter you had been expecting. Instead, there was plentiful comfortable silence as Tsukishima drove. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for the silence- you still felt quite feeble and needed way more bed rest before you could get ready to do anything for anyone. Despite the wholesome silence, you felt those round gold eyes focus on you occasionally. And even though it was comfortable, you felt a melancholy twinge in the atmosphere as he inspected you. “I know you’ll give me shit for this… but you look like you’ve lost weight. I uh…” He gripped the steering wheel harder. You glanced over at him. A shade of baby pink dusted itself across his cheekbones and nose as he focused on the road. “I’m worried about you.” Fuck, there go those butterflies again. Something in you pushed to help- to comfort- but the logical side of your brain brought you to a halt. You’d weighed it in your head a couple of times. You two act closer than just roommates, and it’s not entirely clear how or why you got up to this point… but you had a solid hunch you might be dating this guy. Maybe? You closed your eyes and rested your head on the car door as you thought. You remember how sand clung to your body and you could hear the roaring of the sea. How you watched Tsukishima focus on the waves to regulate his breathing. You vaguely remember your words breaking away from your throat and catching the salty sea air. “Why don’t we stay together?” His lanky body stiffened, then he looked at you with disbelief. “... you wouldn’t want that. I’m fucking annoying and mean.” Your eyes creased with familiarity at the line. “Yeah? So am I. We can butt heads until we balance each other out.” It looked like he wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him cry in front of you anymore today. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life,” you reached a careful hand over to rub his back, “Kei, if there isn’t, let me be that person.” You felt how his breath shuddered. To save his pride, you looked to the ocean and watched its hypnotic movements. After a few deep, shaky inhales and exhales, he replied. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me. Why you didn’t let me die. I will probably come back to this point in my life several times and you’re trying to say you’ll put up with it?” There was some bite to his tone, he was trying so hard to put up walls when he had no will to do so at the moment. How long had he pushed others away from being close? If he was anything like you… it was since grade school. “Let me be your support for when you’re in pain,” You tried once more, “I’m stubborn as shit so I know I won’t give up on you.” “You’re not getting it, you fucking idiot. I’m always in pain, that’s just been life,” he snapped bitterly, glaring at you now. “Then I guess I’ll be by your side forever.” You’d said it without thinking that day. It was like the ocean grew quieter with your words as if even Poseidon became interested in your proposition. You felt heat rise to your face at the implications of what you said. He stared at you with raised eyebrows and the slightest hint of a champagne pink hue on his face. He averted his eyes almost in a panic and watched the ocean again, suddenly very aware of his own expression. You carefully peered over at him again to see he’d only grown redder, now mirroring you. “You… don’t mean that,” He said as if it were a statement. “I do. You’re a good person inside, but you’re defensive and hurt. I’ve seen that from you in the past and I’ve learned more about you today. I want to be there for you as long as you’ll have me. Will you let me?” He picked at the sand as if thinking it over for a moment. There was a brief pause as waves rolled over each other in front of both of you, the sound of their impact being the only thing to grace your ears. Finally, his cynical tone returned as he regained some form of his prior composure. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.”

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“Hey. (Y/n), we’re home,” Tsukishima gently shook your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep. You opened your eyes slowly and groaned out a swear. Tsukishima felt a hesitant smile creep up his face as he opted to just try and maneuver you into your shared home himself. He remembered how waking up was hard for you. Once he opened the passenger door you nearly fell out onto the pavement, only saved by your seatbelt and the giant himself. Your face fell awkwardly into his hip, and you grumbled at the interruption to your sleep. “You sleep like the fucking dead, christ,” he mused out loud and sat you up so it was safe to unbuckle your seatbelt. He urged you to get up more- it wasn’t that you were heavy, he just really wasn’t in the place to lift you at the moment and didn’t even know how to go about it. Regardless, he held you up by a shoulder and crouched to make it easier for you both to walk to the apartment. In some part of your sleep, you began to speak, “Kei.” He kept his gaze trained forward at the front door and struggled to grab his keys from his pocket, “Yes?” “Are we married?” Kei dropped his keys, then shot you a look of concern, “... No…?” He had to hold himself back from saying not yet, unsure of what you were getting to. He reached down to grab his keys and he focused back on the door. “Why are you asking?” He unlocked the door and threw it open, getting you both inside finally. He set you on your couch and sat on the floor in front of you. You looked at him suspiciously, now roused from your sleep. The only thing on your mind was that dream- it had to be a memory! You refused to understand it as anything but that. You prodded, “On the beach, I told you I’d be by your side forever.” He seemed to weigh your thoughts heavily in his mind, “... did you forget about us?” You didn’t expect what felt like cold water to hit your back so hard and so suddenly at his suggestion. He didn’t seem hurt at the thought, instead, he found himself occupied with your reaction. His hand reached out to rub the side of your face as you looked at him with wide, guilty eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Your sister told me this kind of thing might happen…” His calloused thumb traced over your lip, and he offered a smile the best he could, “I’ll try to explain it.” Tsukishima explained that what you remembered happened about four years ago and you had been living together ever since. He motioned to photos on the walls of the two of you and people who you could just hardly remember. When you rested your index finger on an individual who was much scrawnier than most of the people there, sitting on the bench with you and watching you speak with admiration, Tsukki put his hand over yours. “That’s your sister. She took most of these pictures, but she usually sits next to you when you have a space available.” You nodded and closed your eyes. You began to remember summers you spent with her in childhood and her yelling at you to do your homework when you bothered her as you got older. You smiled a bit. Once your eyes opened again, your finger traveled to possibly the tallest person in the room. He was big, but you remembered something warm and comfortable about that man… “That’s Kuroo. You both went to the same high school and you were in his friend group.” You both went on like that for a while until you’d cleared everyone in that picture. Once you did, you sat down to think over the new cluster of names you’d picked up. “... when you promised you’d be here with me forever, did you remember what I promised to you?” Kei asked as he sat next to you. “No… I just remember what happened on the beach up until you threatened to kill me if I took back my promise.” “Oh, right. I was going through that phase,” He seemed displeased with the comment. You found it almost funny but refrained from laughing for his sake. He continued, in a quieter tone, “I promised that if something happened to you, that I would always be here for you, too. That I’d get you back into shape.” His larger hand gently entwined with yours, “... so if you remember that promise and you’ll have me, I’d love to marry you once you get your memories back. … If you want to. I-” You cut him off with a hug to his side, trembling a bit as your emotions got the better of you. You smiled up at him. “I can’t promise I’ll be better fast, and I still feel like several trucks ran through me at once… but I’m happy,” you managed out. You didn’t know what your face looked like right about now and you didn’t have the nerve to look up into Kei’s glasses to check your reflection. He wrapped his arms around you in return, pressing the side of his face against your head. “Please, don’t give me an answer yet. You’re not in the right mental state. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.” You ran your hands up and down his back. You weren’t exactly afraid of remembering things, but you were quite anxious for what tomorrow might bring for both of you. Despite that, you felt safe recovering in his arms, and you were sure you’d feel that way for a long time.

Have a link to the sexy sexy masterlist down here as well. Unless you’re done reading, then have a good day. But if you’re not there’s some fire stuff in that bad boy.

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bagog · 3 years

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What On Earth Has Happened

Hey, no story here, no experiments. Just a play by play of an awful year in my life. Please don't reblog. Trying to just get it down in one place for people who care about me. Long, sob-story beneath the cut.

Air - 'Things are looking up!' I had started to drift a bit from tumblr. The porno purge came and a lot of my friends trickled off the platform after that. I went back to school, attempting to score myself a Masters degree in something that would pay enough to get me out of Student Debt. I was doing great, picking things up fast. I got a new job at a company doing pretty menial work, but the people I worked with were great conversationalists. The work didn't involve dealing with customers at all, paid well, and was small and accomplishable tasks. Essentially I was being prepped to take a better position at the place once I had my Masters. Covid happened, then. Earth - 'The Whole World Sucks Right Now' My company was "essential," so I continued going to work, now on weird schedules. The company I worked for was profiting off Covid, all the while making fun of it as an overblown conspiracy, even as their own epidemiologist urged them to take better precautions. Work became hard to swallow. Water - 'When your lowest place could be lower' The apartment I shared with my boyfriend flooded. The lowest place in any sewage system is typically the bathtub, such that if it backs up, it does so into that tub. Our lowest point is the toilet. So the apartment flooded. Three times. Roots growing through the sewage outflow meant that, often, you needed to wait a solid hour between toilet flushes, or else the toilet would back up with such gusto the sewage would slosh down the hallway and into the living room. We mopped many times. The problem was finally fixed 8 months later, necessitating our having to camp because our house had no water. Fire - 'To destroy all you've done' One afternoon, I smelled burning. Going to our bedroom, I found our shelf a column of flame. I could barely breathe for all the smoke, but I managed to grab a blanket and beat the fire out. On the other side of the room, the pages of the books upon another shelf had begun to crisp from the heat, the blinds on all the windows were warped. The whole apartment had been about to go up. I'm kinda scared of fire now. Heart - 'When moving is too much to ask' Personal health sorta hit a new low. Migraines kept me out of work for two full weeks. I have seasonal foot pain, I always assumed from hiking for a living in my 20s. Turns out it was gout, all the while. Gout is exceptionally painful: it's like a messy pile of razor blades in the ball of your foot every time you step down. At work, I could barely stand. Walking from my car to the door became something I needed to psyche myself up for. Not a lot can stop a gout flare-up once it's in full swing, so I just had to wait it out. For a month. Two. Some of the worst sustained pain I've been in. Little did I know that, in January, come the kidney stones. Kidney stones feel awful. Feel like total shit. Gout and kidney stones are comorbid--brought about as a result of the meds I take to help me focus. So any day I don't drink enough water is a day when my kidneys or my foot just starts aching. But going back to September of 2020... Homophobia - 'goddammit' Finally things are looking better. I'm limping quickly again. Then I am called into the HR office. I am told that two sexual harassment charges have been brought against me. I'm told that one individual has alleged that I, while in the restroom, used a reflective toilet brush to attempt to peep him under a stall wall. I did not do this. I do not understand--reflective toilet brush?? wtf. The second allegation: I just straight up looked over a stall at a guy. I didn't do this either. I'm asked to defend myself, I ask who or date or time of day. I am given nothing. I remark that I don't think I'm tall enough to see over the stall, and I do not understand about the toilet brush. Of the ten minutes of the meeting, I spend 8 of them trying to get my head around how a claim about a reflective toilet brush has me here. "Would you like us to go now to see if you're tall enough to see over the stall? If that would help your defense?" says the HR head. "Yes, I

would," says I. We did not go. I am told that the accusers have no reason to be collaborating, or to even know each other made a claim. This is bullshit, because it was a company of 80 people, and only a quarter of those employees used the restroom where my alleged harassment was to have taken place. Before I am dismissed from work for the day to go home and wait to find out if I'll be fired or not, I march into the HR office once more and say "I hope none of this is happening because I'm gay." The HR head looks positively offended. I got fired cuz I'm gay. Next day I got a call. They'd come to the "objective truth" (that phrase is burned in my mind), and were terminating me. Apparently they discounted the toilet brush rumor, after all. But they really honestly believed I looked over the stall at a dude. Nightmare - 'No Fear One Fear' Let me tell you something: this is a nightmare. This is my honest-to-god nightmare. I've been terrified of getting accused of something in a bathroom since I was 11 years old. I am incredibly self-conscious and careful in public restrooms. To be fired? From a place full of people I like? And all of them will think I'm a pervert. My boyfriend worked at the same place. He would now have to work there every day dealing with people looking at him and wondering what he must think of his boyfriend. That sent me on a spiral. I'm still out of work, almost a year later. It would have been the worst mental health crisis of my life if it wasn't for my boyfriend, my support network, and the meds I've finally been able to get ahold of. Oh, also. My two accusers? Were roommates. HR knew they were roommates. They basically collaborated on a story to get me fired. The story circulating around the place (I still have acquaintances I talk to working there) has dropped the reflective toilet brush entirely. I guess they thought it was too unbelievable. So anyway, the people who accused me are now telling a different set of events than what I was told. Absolute horse shit. Tried to go to my city's human right's council to see if my situation warranted further attention. I gave my side of the story--including tales of the straight manager who had had enough harassment charges brought against him that he was no longer allowed to meet female staff--which indicated I'd been treated differently and wrongly. My old job made an impassioned argument that the committee violated their First Amendment rights(?) ('Freedom of speech' is the biggie with the First Amendment, for people who cba re:USA). I won the vote!! But one member of the committee was missing. So there weren't enough people for the vote to pass. Dismissed. We took it to the EEOC to make an official federal complaint. Just a week ago, an agent of the US Government patiently explained to us that these laws are literally designed to fuck over the worker and protect the employer unless they are epically stupid, and unfortunately, mine had not been epically stupid. So there's nowhere to go, no recourse to be had. It's over, I guess. Family - 'How to sum it up quickly...' My family hit me with the old soft-disown. No more calls, no more communication. They think they are loving me by not having contact with me. By depriving me of my family, they hope it will make me realize that the path I'm on is destructive, and I'll return to them living an upright life. No. I'm living an upright life, now. And if my family can choose to throw me away, then they are not a family I choose. Then my dad hit me back two months later, absolutely gaslighting me and pretending we never had the disown conversation at all. Reality - 'I don't know who I am anymore' I have trouble knowing what's real, anymore. Every message my dad sends on the surface seems loving and supportive and plaintive. I feel I must be the one in the wrong. I got fired for bullshit reasons. It doesn't feel real. "My family can't possibly have ceased contact with me: that's one of those things I know can never happen!!" But that did happen. So what else that feels real, actually isn't? I do

mean to be so dramatic, and I won't apologize for it. But I truly do feel like my mind has been pretty thoroughly unseated by the last year. Whoever I am, I'm becoming someone different. More distilled, at very least. I've discovered a lot of things about myself: trauma that has likely led to a lot of my mental health problems. Discovered I actually have RAGING ADHD, and it has robber me of a lot of things I wanted to do, and now is sort of consuming me completely. I'm looking for help. Trying to get better. Here's hoping. Every bold point above could be its own book, for all my thoughts about them. But enough of that for now. Love you. Thanks for reading.

#personal #depressed writing #life update #2020 sucked

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

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To @withoneheadlight, and a huuuge thank you for the inspiration!!!❤️💕 I deviated a bit from the “original script,” I hope that’s ok 😌

I just couldn’t stop thinking about your post??? I dropped everything to write it, and it might be a bit rushed because of it, but it was so much fun!! So please, do enjoy~

The sun is too bright, the cars outside his window too loud, the fucking seagulls cawing and screeching.

Billy hadn’t come home yesterday again, and at this point who even knows how many times he’s spent the night in someone else's bed.

Not that it’s really any of Steve’s business, of course, they just live together, barely even friends but on tolerable terms, at least. Tolerable meaning they’ve made peace; Billy apologised during Steve’s last year of high school, and when he started working at Scoops Ahoy after graduating, Billy always saw it fit to come by-

“Picking up my shitty sister,” as he put it.

And when Steve started working at Family Videos-

“Waiting for Max to finish up at the arcade,” he’d claim as he browsed, “You, uhh, recommend anything?”

Not that it isn’t still hostile between them, but maybe that’s just how Billy is, and maybe that’s just how Steve likes him. Mean and rude and inconsiderable at times. Yet Steve’s favourite cereal is always stocked up, laundry washed, dishes done, and he feels guilty.

Guilty that he doesn’t do more at their shared apartment. Guilty that he never really thanks Billy for what he does. Guilty that he has an undeniable crush on his ex-nemesis now roommate.

With a heavy sigh, Steve drags himself out of bed, head throbbing from having drowned in sorrows in a bottle of straight jack. Slips on a pair of socks so as to not touch the chilly floor, and a shirt, large and black with Metallica printed on front; a shirt that isn’t his, that he “stole” from the dryer a few days ago. He gives the collar a sniff and it doesn’t smell of Billy - it smells of the laundry detergent they use, but knowing that Billy has worn it before is enough to warm his aching heart just a slight bit.

Stupid stupid stupid, he repeats in his mind as he inches toward the door of his bedroom.

Save for the floorboards creaking underneath his sluggish weight, it’s quiet. No tv running, no music from Billy’s bedroom, no grunting as he lifts weights on the bench that takes up far too much of the living room.

He’s not here. Billy’s not here.

Steve continues reminding himself how idiotic it was of him to even come out here. California is far away from his parents' reach, a place where he can maybe find out who he is, and Billy always talked about coming back here, so them moving in together was “convenient.”

However, so far all Steve has found out about himself is that he doesn’t know how to cook, gets sunburnt so easily that it’s laughable, and that he’s all too invested in Billy’s personal life.

When he opens the cupboard and finds Kellogg’s Apple Jacks™ on the shelf, a new and unopened pack, he groans in defeat as his heart does its usual dance and song, because of course Billy had ensured there was food for Steve. He always fucking does.

He pours them into his favourite bowl, a white one with fancy flowers painted in blue, stolen from his old home to just have something from his parents with him, and next goes milk. He yawns wide before shoveling in the first mouthful, the one that’s always perfectly crunchy and having just started tasting of cinnamon before it all becomes a soggy mess.

About halfway through the bowl, the floorboards behind him creaks and he nearly drops the bowl as he jumps, spilling a bit of milk on the floor.

Steve spins around to find Billy there, dressed in only his sweatpants, eyes cast down at where he was apparently staring at Steve’s ass, who’s quick to realise that he hadn’t bothered with underwear because he was oh so convinced he’d be alone for at least two more hours.

“O-oh, Billy, I-I didn’t hear you come in last night,” he stutters under the intense stare, placing the bowl on the counter and hopes it isn’t too noticeable when he gathers his legs.

Billy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything, simply looks down Steve’s naked legs, eyes burning and hungry. When he finally meets Steve’s gaze, he wets his lips before rasping out,

“I came home like an hour ago, was about to take a shower but wanted coffee first, and…” he trails off, and so does his eyes again.

Steve is… unnecessarily excited under those heady, ocean blues as they take in all that he is. Feels himself swell at the attention, but paralysed by shock of having been caught by Billy in Billy’s shirt and practically nothing else.

And Billy steps through the door frame into the kitchen. Keeps walking slowly, cautiously maybe, he makes his way to where Steve leans against the counter, fingers curled around the edge with anticipation and a bit of fear.

Normally he’d have guessed that Billy would call him names, mock him with a poisoned grin, but with such heavy lids and mouth slightly open, that doesn’t seem like the most likely outcome to this, and it only thrills Steve all the more.

Billy comes to a standstill in front of Steve, feet almost touching, and he leans closer, places his left hand next to Steve’s, thumb touching skin there. And he bites into his plump lower lip, eyes dancing across Steve’s features just to land on his mouth, mind clearly working away at something.

Up this close Steve catches a whiff of cigarettes and the usual cologne, maybe a bit of sweat from whatever he’s been doing all night. Or whoever. He can feel Billy’s calm and collected breathing ghost across his lips, and his heart stops beating in anticipation, lips quiver, dick hopeful.

“Is that my shirt?” Billy mumbles out and tugs at the hem that stops mid-cheek on Steve’s slighter frame.

He might be taller by a few inches, but he still swims in the shirt stretched out by Billy’s broad shoulders and chiseled pecs.

“Y-yeah…”

At that, Billy’s fingers let go of the shirt, then spread out against Steve’s skin. He takes an all too loud breath at the electric jolt Billy’s warm palm urges out, shooting straight to between his thighs where his cock gives a curious little kick.

The hand wanders, across his thigh to his front, moving at a pace so slow it can only be deliberate, Billy teasing him, or maybe waiting for him to say stop.

But he doesn’t, so he doesn’t.

Smooths the tips of his fingers higher up, through the coarse pubic hair, till he reaches the base of Steve’s shaft, the palm of his hand grazing against the lazy head, effectively making him grow harder, and gasp out a breathy, “Fuck.”

Billy moves closer again, knee pushing Steve’s legs apart, noses nuzzling together, lips like feathers, daring Steve to kiss him.

He moans instead, as the hand tickling his skin closes in an expert fist, possibly giving away just how many times Billy must have done the same notion to himself. A thought that delights Steve to impossible extends, knowing that the hand Billy jerks off with is now stroking him under the shirt.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve whimpers and brings a hand to steady himself on Billy’s firm shoulder.

And he can’t wait any more; presses their lips together and is immediately met with the same fervor he offers up - soft lips in a hard embrace, touching each other as if they’ve always wanted this, as if all the strife in their past was just tension and unresolved shit that culminated to punches and bleeding noses.

The motion of Billy’s fist is relentless, and Steve has to break away to breathe. “A-ah, shit, Billy!”

He bites his way down Steve’s neck, painful and delicious, stroking his now fully erect cock like he’s eager to have him cum, wanting to watch Steve unravel and cry out his name.

And just as Steve is seconds away from ruining the shirt, Billy pulls off, leaving behind an ache that makes Steve cry out from the edge of release.

“Fuck! Billy you asshole, why-” he doesn’t get to finish that thought before he’s spun around, a hand on his upper back pushing him against the counter, head throbbing worse than his filled dick. “Billy- Billy!”

“Want me to stop?” Billy snaps a bit too loud, a bit too sudden, but the answer is inevitably,

“No,” and Steve is set on that.

He’s wanted this for far too long; suspects that he’s been craving Billy since before he graduated, but didn’t dare think about it too long. Spent some extra time restocking the porn section of Family Videos in the backroom behind the curtain, borrowed a few gay ones in secret. He was more than curious, he was interested.

Now he’s here, cheek pressed against the cold surface of their kitchen counter, eyes closed to the world as he focuses on how Billy’s holding him down with one hand, the other squeezing his ass, spreading him, exposing him, and-

It is slick and wet and weird when Billy licks his fat tongue flat across his hole. Not bad weird as far as he can tell from the way his entire body squirms with pleasure, his prick leaking, and he gasps when Billy does it again.

And again. He grabs on with both hands as he sloppily eats out Steve’s ass, sucking with wet lips, tongue sliding over the rim time and time again, the tip prodding at his entrance, making him moan out, whimpering for more without as many words.

Billy seems almost happy to oblige, shoving his tongue in, and Steve knows what that looks like, but to feel it? His body is on fire, burning hot and white, feeling better than he ever thought it actually would; he knows the men on those tapes are just actors, always just believed they were exaggerating, but no.

Steve has never been this aroused in his fucking life, 21 years old and hornier than he ever was as a teenager surrounded by hot girls. None of them he ever slept with made him feel this… incredible, and he has none other than Billy fucking Hargrove to thank for it. With every lick and suck and penetration he’s nearing the edge again, faster than he ever thought he could, to be honest, but it’s just not enough to get him there.

“Billy- Billy please, I’m so close, please touch me,” he begs with a voice all indecent, drooling a bit on the counter as he stays flat and powerless, simply unable to do anything.

Then he’s left alone, ready to complain and tell Billy, “Fuck you,” but when he glances over his shoulder, he sees Billy whip out his fat cock, and Steve sucks in a quick breath, eyes wide and amazed. He’s seen it before, in the showers at school, accidentally in the shower of their apartment, but never like this… so girthy and veiny, red and shiny with pre.

Billy grabs Steve by the hips, and for a moment he thinks that Billy’s just going to fuck him, right here right now, unprepped, dry, it’s probably going to hurt, but Steve’s so curious to finally find out what that feels like- what Bill’s dick feels like, what it’s like to have sex with Billy.

Yet he’s still relieved when he instead feels it between his cheeks, rubbing through the spit and across his rim. He gasps and moans all the same though, lets Billy control the pace as he with a bruising grip on Steve’s hips pulls him into his thrusts, skin slapping together in an obscene fashion that makes Steve’s cock drip and throb, keeping him on that sharp edge of orgasm.

“Shit, Billy, ah-h,” Steve whines out a plea.

When a hand closes around his aching cock again, he moans unadulterated, the pleasure of Billy’s every touch pushing the hangover into the background. The rhythm is erratic in a sense, quick then slow, all the way up or shallow, but in tact with how Billy’s hips meets Steve’s cheeks, keeping him from cumming as if he’s wanting to time it, have them both cumming together at once.

But Billy cums first; he��s quick to pull up the tee and paints Steve’s back with hot and warm semen, grunting a few times as he stops pounding against Steve’s ass. He then bends over to get a better grip on Steve’s cock as he jerks him to completion with a few practiced flicks of his wrist, Steve being loud in comparison and definitely less controlled, eyes rolling back to watch the fireworks as he spills over the cupboard beneath them.

In that moment he’s beyond thankful that Billy’s there behind him, supporting him and keeping him caught against the countertop, or he might just fall to the floor as his legs give out. As he lays there, for a moment in complete bliss with no headache, eyes closed, panting, he feels Billy wipe his back clean with a napkin.

“Can you stand?” he sounds all too amused, hands down on Steve’s hips, rubbing where his fingers might just have left a few bruises.

“I’m… I’m, ahh, yeah,” Steve exhales and pushes himself up and standing.

He turns around to watch Billy tuck himself away again, chest heaving a bit, a rather relaxed expression on his face, and when their eyes meet he smiles. Not a grin, nor a smirk, but an actual smile, and it makes Steve’s heart throb and bleed and hope.

“You can keep the shirt, I guess,” Billy shrugs all nonchalantly, as if they hadn’t just been doing whatever they were doing. “I’m gonna take a shower now, wanna join me?”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #A quick lil thing for you #withoneheadlight

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 1

Hello, and once again, welcome back to Midnight Striga!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

“And now… to test it!” Eda cried, feeding a smidge of magic into the Lacrima sitting before her. In a burst of flames, she was sent flying into the wall, a pained groan clawing its way out of her throat. A crazed grin crossed her face. “Fire! Nice! That’s 163 down, 474 to go!” She cheered, hastily scribbling the results down on a piece of paper detailing the Lacrimas in her store. Carelessly tossing the Lacrima into the appropriate pile, she started sifting through her pile, hoping to find something interesting. “I’ve already managed to identify at least 13 specific types, wonder how many more I got?” She muttered to herself. She reached for her bottle of Appleblood for a swig, only to swipe at empty air. Glancing up, she met Luz’s unimpressed gaze, holding her Appleblood just out of reach. “You mind giving that back?” She asked, annoyed at the interruption.

Luz scowled. “Yeah, no. You’ve had way too much of this stuff.” She stated, a pointed look aimed at the kitchen, where at least 10 bottles lay emptied inside. Spotting the list of recorded Lacrimas and types, Luz’s eyes widened in shock. “Holy HELL Eda! When did you sleep!?”

Eda opened her mouth, paused, and awkwardly scratched her cheek. “I don’t have to answer that.” She finally said, evasively glancing to the sides.

Sighing, Luz plopped herself down from across the older Witch. “Eda, I get that you’re hurting. But trust me, running from this is just going to hurt you.” She looked up, naked grief burning in her gaze. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

Eda gave a bitter snort. “Oh really? You’ve been betrayed by your family, cursed by someone you trusted, respected even!, and left to rot by society? Well color me surprised.” Eda sarcastically remarked, spite apparent in her tone. Her bitterness briefly fell away, however, when a thought came to her. “And weren’t you supposed to be watching Hooty and King while King was practicing?”

Luz huffed. “Pfft! They’ll be fine!”

King panted, dropping to his knees, the crude spear clutched in his paws trembling. He glanced up at his foe, scowling in anger. Hooty loomed over him, his long, wiry body coiled around multiple boulders he had suspended in the air; boulders that King now knew from PAINFUL experience could be willfully hurled like a slingshot. Forcing himself to his feet, King pointed his weapon at Hooty, screaming, “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? YOU REJECT WORM TURKEY!!!!” With a savage battle cry, the two demons leapt back into the fray, bloodlust burning in their eyes.

“Yeah, they’ll totally be fine.” Luz repeated, blissfully unaware of the carnage going on out in the clearing she had left the two to practice in.

“I’m surprised you aren’t a mess yourself, Miss ‘My Sister Was a Hostage For My Cooperation Who I Thought Was Dead But May Actually Be Alive.’” Eda snidely stated, earning her a frosty glare from her roommate.

Luz sighed, seriously wishing they weren’t having this conversation right now. “I,” She began, pointing to herself. “Am Compartmentalizing at the moment. Does the information that my sister may be alive hurt me? Oh, absolutely. But I’m aware enough of my limits not to do something stupid, and am planning on putting the screws to Oroboros anyway. Forcing myself to panic and scramble won’t help me, and it won’t help her, if the info turns out to be true.” She finished, pain filling her eyes. Her gaze sharpened, pushing through the hurt. “But what’s important right NOW… is the fact that you avoided going to sleep, and are drinking this early in the morning while running magic experiments!” She glanced over the spread of Lacrimas, bewildered. “What were you even doing with all these anyway?” She asked.

Eda shrugged, lifting the Lacrima she’d most recently selected upwards for Luz to see. “Testing these to see what they can do.” She blithely stated, moving to do just that. Luz’s eyes shot open in panic. With a yelp, she whipped the Lacrima out of Eda’s hands. “Hey! What was that for!?” Eda demanded, holding her lightly stinging fingers.

Sighing in relief at the in-tact shard of magic in her hands, Luz carefully set it in what she gathered was the sorted pile. “That,” She said, pointing to the Lacrima. “Is an Explosion Lacrima. If you had tested that, it would’ve blown you to pieces, and considering its proximity to the other Lacrimas, would’ve taken the house and most of the clearing with it.” She stated, somehow managing to keep her panic out of her voice, even as Eda paled at the implications of what had almost occurred. Luz turned an accusing stare towards Eda. “This is what I mean! If you wanted to know about what these Lacrima were, you could’ve just asked me! But instead you snuck down here and proceeded to haphazardly test them without any kind of safety precautions!! I mean, I get your all about independence and inherent limitlessness of magic and all, but that was reckless, even for you. What. Is. The Problem?” Luz demanded, eyes hard.

Eda’s gaze fell to the table, her nails gouging into the wood. “I trusted her.” She whispered. “For all that we didn’t get along anymore, for all that she worked for Bonehead and I hated him and her attempts to bring me in, I still trusted her. And she’s part of the reason I’m such a pariah, the reason I can’t even live in town! She took my trust… and she stomped on it.” Tears fell to the wood, a look of desolation and pain stretched across her face. She turned to Luz, a look of hopelessness scrawled across her face. “How do I even deal with that!?”

Luz looked on levelly. She understood, she honestly did. While she herself may not have felt the particular emotions Eda was dealing with, she was incredibly familiar with the loss, confusion, and hurt that came from internal conflict. “Well, the first thing you gotta do is ask yourself this: do you still love your sister?”

Eda reeled back, appalled. “What kind of question is that!? She’s my sister! Of course I still love her!” She exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“But she betrayed you and has been lying to you for years.” Luz evenly pointed out.

Eda snorted. “Yeah kid, I’m aware of that. I haven’t forgiven her for it, I probably never will!” She said, throwing up her arms in emphasis, before she continued, her voice softening. “But she’s still my sister. She’s still the girl who looked out for me as a kid, even if she has been acting like a pompous windbag for years. Am I hurting? Yes. But I know she is too. I don’t need to hold it any further against her than that. I just want my family to stop hurting over it all.”

“Well, my best advice for you is to get some rest and deal with this one day at a time.” Luz said gently. “It may not seem like much, but getting proper rest should do wonders for helping you process this and figure out how to go forward.” She shrugged. “It did with me at least.”

Eda gave Luz a misty smirk. “Since when are you the adult here?” She jokingly questioned, hands folding over her chest. As she felt a familiar sensation brush against her arm, she froze. Ignoring Luz’s inquiring look, Eda roughly pushed up her sleeve, the both of them turning pale at the sight of feathers popping up along her arms. “Crap!” With a shout, Eda rushed for her cupboards, hastily throwing them open, Luz following her lead with the cabinets and drawers. There wasn’t a single potion left in the house. Eda buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I forgot to stock up!”

“Well, do you have somewhere you can get more!?” Luz frantically questioned. Eda shot her a look that screamed ‘duh, are you serious?’ Luz sheepishly cringed. “Okay, yeah, you probably do.”

Eda nodded tersely. “Yeah.” With a gesture, she called her staff to her, Owlbert briefly cuddling up against her cheek before solidifying into wood. “Let’s get going before I go full Owl Beast in here.”

Luz gave a sharp jerk of her head, aimed in the direction of where King and Hooty were practicing. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

Eda gave a mostly nonchalant snort. “Those two? They’ll be fine. Hooty’s more than strong enough to look after himself, and this place, and King isn’t a helpless little fuzzball anymore.” She stated, giving Luz a proud grin, one she happily returned. With that settled, the two leapt onto the staff, taking off into the air.

As they landed in town, Luz instantly took notice of the whispers. Everyone was huddled around, shooting one another furtive looks. Uneasiness rippled through the city, clinging to every group they passed. Luz was painfully aware of the stares she got, the fear and suspicion. She fought the urge to pull in and hunker against the voices, the accusations she just knew were building. A hand on her shoulder caused her to shoot her gaze up, Eda’s awkwardly comforting face filling her vision.

“Hey, just ignore them, okay? They don’t know you.” She said soothingly, rubbing Luz’s shoulder. “I’ve had to deal with it myself plenty of times. We kicked a hornet’s nest the other day, and now people are waiting for it to sting. They’ll be on edge, you might even get a few of the angrier idiots trying to yell at you, but they’ll come around. Eventually.”

Luz gave her a shaky grin, appreciative of the support. “Thanks Eda. It means a lot.” Eda gave her a jerky nod. As they wandered deeper into the city, they brushed by a group of school-age kids, including Amity and that girl who’d been burned that first day at Hexside. The group paused, turning to look at them, uncertain whispers kicking up. Luz was honestly surprised at how little it bothered her.

As they came to a fairly innocuous looking storefront, Eda began roughly pounding on what Luz assumed was the service counter. “Open up Morton! I’ve got an emergency, and I need potions, stat!” She shouted, her fist echoing loudly against the wood.

Thumps and shouts could be heard coming from the other side, before the shutters opened, a sickly seeming Witch poking through. “Oh, sorry Eda. I was up testing poisons last night and I haven’t been feeling too well. You said you’ve got a potion emergency?”

While Luz desperately wanted to comment on him testing Poisons on himself, she was rapidly growing accustomed to the lack of care to personal safety the Isles seemed to possess in regards to its Citizens. Still, Eda seemed to trust this guy, so she wouldn’t say anything. Eda nodded sharply, pulling out a sack of snails. “Yeah. I’ve got the usual payment, so make it snappy.” She barked, roughly sliding her payment across the counter.

Morton sucked in a hissing breath, a look of regret filling his face. Eda and Luz’s own faces dropped at what they expected to come. “I’m sorry, but I’m out of Curse-Suppressant Potions at the moment. Well, I’m nearly out, I should say.” He softly admitted.

Eda slammed her hands against the counter. “Then give me what you’ve got! I don’t even care if you take the entire payment, I need potions now!!” She said frantically, a feverish look burning in her eyes.

Solemnly, Morton pulled out a single potion, the bottle visibly only half full. At Eda’s crestfallen expression, Morton shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I have left.” He remorsefully confessed. Biting his lip, he slid the potion over, along with the payment, drawing a surprised look from the two. At Eda’s look of shock, he glanced up, a surprising amount of steel in his eyes. “It wasn’t right what your sister did, and it wasn’t right for the Emperor’s Coven to lie about what happened. A lot of people are in your corner at the moment, Eda, and I’m one of them.” He gave a firm nod, pushing the potion closer.

Eda gave a faint smile, gratefully pocketing the Potion and her purse. “Thanks Mort, you’ve always been a good one.” Her grin turned cheeky. “When your not doing something stupid like testing poisons on yourself, that is.” She and Morton shared a laugh, Morton’s sounding embarrassed but unhurt.

Morton’s gaze turned to Luz, his eyes widening. “Oh! You’re that human girl!” He exclaimed. “Wait here!” He ducked down, rummaging sounds audible as he looked through his stocks. Popping back up, he slid two bottles over. “Here, a one-time only gift, on the house. A specialty poison that obstructs magic, and a pain-relief potion I made on the sly.” He gave her a cheerful wink. “I heard what you said about that group, and what they did to your family. If you’re with Eda, then you’re a good person, as far as I’m concerned.” He folded his arms, growing stern. “But don’t expect any more charity. I do have a business to run, okay?”

Eda barked out a laugh. “HA! Don’t worry Mort, we’ll be fine. But, I’m sorry to say,” She held up the bottle. “This will barely hold me over for half a day, if that.” She and Luz exchanged worried glances.

Morton gave a rueful nod. “Yeah, that’ll probably be bad.” He scratched his chin, before snapping his fingers. “I think I might know someone who can help you!” His expression shifted into one of worried thought. “But it’ll be pretty dangerous.”

Eda raised an eyebrow, before her eyes widened in realization. “Oh no, don’t tell me-”

“Yup.” Morton replied, looking grave. “The Night Market. Specifically, a guy called Grimm Hammer. He probably has what you need.”

Eda cursed. “I hate the Night Market.” She growled, giving her thanks as she led herself and Luz away from Morton’s shop. “That place is seriously scummy, even for me.”

Luz raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, let me guess, Black Market? Illegal goods and services that would bring the law down like a hammer on ripe fruit?” She guessed, clarifying at Eda’s confusion at the term she used.

Eda snorted. “Exactly.” As the two strolled along, deep in thought about their next move, a finger slowly reached out from a nearby shadow, grasping for Eda’s arm. Luz shrieked at the sight.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #hooty the owl house #morton the owl house #magic

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aloalovera · 4 years

Text

The week boasted no irregularities at Night Raven College, an unusual feat for an institution of its background. You however, having lived every week since your arrival shrouded with stress if not by the overblottings, then a troublesome class assignment, rather enjoyed the silence and appreciated it(while you still could).

It was Friday and the last bell of the day had rung, a cacophony of relieved sighs following the loud ringing alongside the rustling of materials being put away. You, as well as your irritating, arrogant cat roommate packed your bags as the teacher gave one last reminder of the homework. As it was the weekend, you would concern yourself with it until Sunday night.

You turned to Grimm as you both stood in the hallway, Ace and Deuce having just exited the classroom amongst a throng of final period students eager to return to their dorms. “I was about to tell Grimm, but since you’re both here, I’ll let everyone know,” you said as Deuce and Ace arrived to your standing point, “I’m not sure I’ll make it to movie night this evening so you guys can start without me.”

The four of you had planned a perfect and relaxing evening with enough food that would be enough to satisfy your craving for junk. Needless to say, you were annoyed to have missed such an opportunity. Especially as your guys’ schedules had uniformly lined up after a very long time of deliberation. Crowley sure had a knack for ruining your opportunities to relax.

Ace shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, let’s just reschedule for another day.”

“But we’ve been planning this for weeks! For once we all are not super tired after a single day. Besides, we already have all the snacks and finally convinced Headmaster to let us borrow his projection device-“

“Like Ace said,” began Deuce, interrupting Grim on his whining tirade, “it’s not like we can’t reschedule. Though I’m a little disappointed, I wouldn’t want you missing your errands.”

“By the way Prefect, since we’re on the subject, where are you going?” Ace still had that carefree smile, it eased your nerves for what was to come this afternoon.

You pulled out your student ID and pointed out what set it apart from regular students’. “This stamped crest at the bottom right corner recognizes me as an official Dorm leader, it will also let me into the room where Dorm leaders hold their meetings...”

The stamp in question was just like the official school crest, except the crow was positioned differently and instead of black print, it was red. You stared at it shortly before pocketing the laminated identification card.

“So, if I am understanding correctly,” Deuce muttered, “you’re attending a Dorm leader meeting?!” You winced at his booming words but nodded, a little confused with his outburst. He didn’t let you linger with confusion, “It’s just that, and these are just what the rumors say, but apparently Dorm leader meetings are incredibly violent. They begin arguing and escalate to a full blown magic battle.”

That didn’t sound too good.

“Then it makes sense that the door is sealed, Headmaster wouldn’t want students witnessing the Dorm leaders in disarray, huh?” Hummed Ace. You had a vague hunch the sealing was there for other reasons besides privacy but Ace suspected it too. It may be exactly as he said...

You could all but calm your jitters now, just what did you get yourself into? Or more like, what did Headmaster Crowley want from you this time? He was the one who asked you to attend mind you.

“Rest easy Prefect, you have your phone so if anything goes wrong, call or text us.” Deuce always knew what to say.

“Thank you Deuce, that’s very reassuring,” you smiled sincerely for you did feel much better. With a temporary silence, where all four of you stood awkwardly until you decided it was inevitable, you said your goodbyes, “Well, I’ll be off now. Wouldn’t want to be late on my first Dorm leader meeting.” You tried to put on a cheery smile but all that came out was one that looked eerily similar to how it would if someone had stitched the corners of your lips to lift them.

You exchanged “Goodbye’s,” some “good luck’s,” before ultimately starting down the hallway. The three magicians stood behind as you, their magicless friend, disappeared into a different corridor.

Ace then after said, “Well, can’t help it, we’ll just have to find a different day”

“You try to sound like you don’t care but you were actually very eager to show Prefect the movie you chose, huh” teased Deuce. And so, another round of bickering ensued as the desolate and ignored Grimm tried to regain their attention.

From the moment you stepped away from the comfort of your circle, the heaviness in the pit of your stomach increased tenfold. You could not imagine the refined and respectable Dorm leaders would really break the rules in front of the Headmaster, this logic gave you some semblance. Alas it could only last so long when you remembered how far Leona had gone just to remove from the Magift tournament your good friend Malleus.

Indeed a worrying amount of bad blood existed amongst the Dorm-heads but you hoped it would be subdued with the authoritative presence of Crowley. You’d hate to be caught up in any more magic spectacles. The sheer negativity from an overblot was enough to overwhelm a magician, so one could only fathom your exhaustion at such an exposure without an ounce of magical blood in your veins.

When you stopped in front of the designated door, your thoughts also stopped. Instead you realized how paranoid you’d become, so much so that you were thinking about a potential overblot during the meeting. It was silly to be this nervous, you had spoken with all of them and had befriended a few. How difficult would it be to sit through a likely mundane talk that would regard upcoming events?

Maybe there’d be bickering of course, but that was expected as not everyone would be in agreement at all times. They each were very unique individuals with equally unique thought processes. However knowing them, they would go onto personal territory and begin insulting one another. Which could lead to pent up frustrations being released and a whole blown out magic battle-

Slapping your checks gently, you deescalated the situation that had felt all too much like a premonition. From the pocket of your uniform, you pulled out your student ID.

Now, you’d dealt with magical tools before but that didn’t mean you were never at a complete loss when introduced to something new. You thought to bring it up like a scanner, but to no avail were you granted access. You fiddled with the door and the ID card for a couple of minutes, spying the time was five minutes before the meeting began.

At the moment your eyes landed on your wrist watch which was elevated to the level of the door’s knob, you noticed a small slit right above it. You slid the card in, first turned up, second time turned down.

Your third try you did face up again, with the end where your picture was located at tucked in first. An electronic beep followed, and as the door opened, you cheered at having bested the admittance tool that was much like a credit card machine.

The room seemed dark at first, or well that was more of your impression of it. Much of Night Raven College followed a dark, gothic type architecture as well as aesthetic. You weren’t surprised that everyone was already here, seated around a circular table with papers, pencils, and other materials laid askew.

You’d never been to one of these, so all you had on you was your backpack. That should work as it carried your writing utensils though. One more thing you noticed that set you apart, was that you were still in your school uniform. It seemed everyone else was wearing their dorm uniforms, even Malleus who never attended a meeting due to poor invitation etiquette(from other dorm leaders) stood out less than you, and he was well over six feet tall.

And it also seemed like Vil had made Captain Obvious his role, “Look at this potato, absolutely inconceivable that you would come to a meeting in those dirty rags.”

“You practically wear the same thing,” you pointed out, but the next attack swooped in so quickly and ridiculously you were left flabbergasted.

Riddle had been the orchestrator of the attack, having stated in his harsh tone, “You’re late.”

After twisting your eyebrows, you argued, “Even the clock says it’s 2 minutes before 4-“ You wanted to say that their little tea party didn’t seem too important but held your tongue. You had a feeling Riddle wouldn’t allow you access to the snacks if you spoke back anymore and frankly, you were starving.

“You should have a seat Prefect, Headmaster is very particular about everyone being in their place when the meeting begins.” Azul was kind enough to inform you.

You found it funny how Crowley demanded order in the meeting room but couldn’t do the same in dire ordeals involving a certain group of Dorm leaders. But enough about that, you needed a seat quickly.

However, there was no empty seats. You looked wayward into the room and found a sad little stool in the corner. It so happened to be made of the heaviest metal. The head splitting noise of the feet of the stool dragging on the floor filled the vicinity. You could feel a number of gazes on your back as you tried not to focus on the other occupants.

Whether it was by mercy or annoyance, definitely the latter, you were suddenly lifted and sat on the stool, you held on for dear life as it floated at a rapid pace to the table and then haphazardly twisted so you were facing everyone. You were squeezed between the floating tablet that had its own chair and Kalim.

Vil huffed as if exasperated and drolly commented as he leaned his chin on his palm, “If you are to continue to attend these meetings, you have to wear appropriate attire that represents your dorm.”

“But Ramshackle dorm doesn’t even have a crest(or clean water), there’s nothing to represent-“

“Up up, you will not argue with me. Make sure to have a uniform next time you come or I’ll personally make it so that you cannot enter this room.” Vil was always very harsh with you. Unlike everyone else who seemed to care less about the garbs you had on, he seemed especially offended. “You think you can look however as a Dorm leader? How can you call yourself an advocate for Ramshackle Dorm when you can’t even put the minimal effort into your appearance.”

You didn’t think you looked as awful as Vil criticized. Maybe your hair was a little frizzy and unkept at the hairline and your shirt wasn’t as tucked in as earlier but it wasn’t like you came in caked in mud either. Vil had impossibly high standards. However now that you noticed, you looked notably more unruly than the rest who had not a wrinkle in place and didn’t look like the standard tired student after a long day of classes. But then, suddenly some help-

“Ah, just knock it off. All your whining is getting on my nerves,” huffed Leona. He was leaned back with his eyelids closed and that angry look on his face. Whether his intention was to help you or not, you had to be thankful for his very honest character. Some disliked his bluntness and called him lazy, but questionable morals aside, you actually thought Leona was quite efficient. As they say, “lazy” people aren’t lazy, they are simply smart enough to come up with a more convenient and trouble free process. You were brought back from your thoughts by the lion himself, “Besides, he’s gonna arrive soon-“

“More like now-“ at Kalim’s excitable tone, the shrill of shattering glass engulfed your ears and you knew immediately, based on that very wasteful entrance, that Crowley had arrived.

As said, he stood before you as a flood of heaven’s light from the sizable hole in the window entered the murky, dank walls of hell. Crowley scanned the room and did a double take on you.

Your stool was much shorter than the high chairs everyone else had been graced with, you were also more or less slumping in an attempt to make yourself smaller. This was unconsciously done of course, try as you might you couldn’t stop acknowledging how little you fit in with the rest of the room’s inhabitants.

Crowley’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, as if he was at a loss for words. If you didn’t know any better, he was probably at a loss for words.

He said while his beady little eyes settled on your face, “Oh, well look who’s here early!”

“It’s ten minutes past the meeting time,” Riddle said rather snarkily.

“Ah yes...” the man in question mumbled, then after shouting, “BUT, we shall get started immediately!” Crowley had declared. “Come then Dorm leaders, let me listen to your complaints”

“I’d hardly call them complaints, they’re more like issues that need to be resolved for the sake of the student’s safety,” said Azul after a clean rearranging of his papers. “Octavinelle can deal with its own problems, however when those problems transcend outside of our plumbing abilities, we will request help from a third party source.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and with finality said, “That third party source is you, Headmaster”

The pressure was on in a matter of seconds. You knew Crowley’s tune too well to understand that he had probably procrastinated on a lot of the topics that would be mentioned today. Half of you couldn’t wait to see his ear chewed off for once and the other half dreaded the length of this meeting for this was a meeting that involved Crowley and responsibility. Two elements like those simply did not mix.

And you were right... His first response?

Evasion.

“A-ah, I see. But Azul, was the flooding not fixable by magic?” The crow man said. You looked between the two, Azul’s eyebrows jutting down almost immediately after that statement.

“Headmaster Crowley, you should know that magic is not the solution to all of our problems. Besides, it’s only a temporary fix that is becoming more, and more frequent to see to. Please contact the plumbing company and have them fix our flooding problem-“

“Stupid.”

Oh dear. Dear, dear lord. You hoped he hadn’t any more insulting elaborating for your premonition would become very true if a certain octopus’s temper wasn’t moderated.

The single word had come from Leona. You had all paused to listen to the lion who chuckled mockingly much to your dismay. “You live underwater and you’re complaining about a flooding problem? To me it sounds like all you need is a custom pot and you’ll feel right at home”

Was Leona still annoyed that his deal had been for naught during the magift tournament? Definitely. Was Azul still brimming with irritation that his contracts had been reduced to dust? Without a doubt.

“Maybe you should concern yourself with that flea infestation from your own stye” Azul replied coolly. Your eyes widened as you looked down, feeling an awkward tension suddenly rise. You weren’t surprised an argument was being instigated between these two. Based on a couple of previous mentioned incidents that is.

You just wished nobody else would warrant any more input. Alas, it seemed these days all you did was hopeful and useless wishing.

“Cease your mindless bickering, you sound like fools. There are actual topics in need of discussion and exchanging insults won’t resolve them,” Riddle was the one who had mentioned.

But then he was in the line of fire, “If we’re bringing up issues that need discussion, then I’d like to put in a formal complaint against Riddle.” Riddle sputtered at Leona’s words. “He overworks his students and forces them into useless tasks like painting roses red. It makes it worse when you find out that he dictates the outfits they wear and makes them do it under the blistering heat.”

“I most certainly do not!” Riddle had shouted and appeared to be gaining a red hue to his face. “The weather in Heartslabyul is regulated”

“So you don’t deny that you exhaust your students regardless of the weather?” Leona added another quip, “ You wouldn’t be so defensive if you weren’t with any faults, your tomato face gives it all away.”

“Now now, do not insult Riddle for wanting to make his Dorm a beautiful place. We should praise him for putting in the effort of making it look so gorgeous unlike that barren wasteland of yours Leona. It’s an absolute eyesore,” drawled Vil.

“What’s an eyesore is that your face looks more like cake than cake itself Vil,” the lion fired back. Vil was readying his rebuttal. You clenched your teeth and looked helpless between both, looking to Crowley who had taken to sipping delicately out of a tea cup. Bastard.

It’s not that you were concerned for their strained relationships, it’s what their strained relationships entailed for you. Crowley wouldn’t herd his students into peaceful territory, instead he’d leave you to it. Once again the responsibility would be dumped onto you at the expense of having Crowley look for a way for you to return to your world. You sighed dejectedly as you watched the unfolding ordeal.

Before you knew it, Azul had jumped back into the mix and was berating Leona for always instigating fights with his “childish” comments.

“If I’m so childish for stating the obvious, what does that make you guys for stringing along?” His rhetorical question seemed only to further fan the flames of rage in the three Dorm leaders. You looked at Kalim besides you who was laughing loudly.

So carefree and free spirited...

He pointed excitedly and said to you, “It always seems to go South, just enjoy the show while it lasts!”

“I don’t remember it always being like this. But I suppose things changed in my absence.” Malleus chimed into yours and Kalim’s discussion.

“They did. A lot of us don’t have very good chemistry with one another. It always ends up in a big fight if Headmaster doesn’t intervene” said Idia on the other side of the floating tablet.

“But is it okay to simply sit back without doing anything to put a stop to them?” Malleus questioned, looking quite troubled. From what you were told(that he wasn’t ever invited to these meetings), you discerned Malleus had been quite looking forward to interacting with his peers.

Ah but there was no way to when more than half of the Dorm leaders were engaging in a verbal battle with one another.

Idia had said what you and Kalim had both been thinking, “If you try to stop them, you’ll just be dragged into their mindless argument like Riddle and Vil”

“It’s so easy to get lost in the rage. Idia and I have both fallen victims to the petty behavior,” Kalim said with a wicked wide grin. You don’t understand why he looks so proud of himself...

“Yes, it’s like this room is cursed or something,” Idia remarked.

You sighed wearily, “I don’t think the room is the problem...”

The lot of you watched on as the insults grew more and more personal. Unbelievable that they were so egotistical and prideful. Vil really felt like he was above all others(which you found ridiculous; beauty was subjective and as far as you knew, he only adhered to a selected society’s beauty standard). Riddle really believed he could exercise control over the rest(it would be better if he would try to coax the others into a compromise like an equal but instead he decided to shout commands like an arrogant, tyrannical brat). Leona was prideful and that bluntness you had praised not even ten minutes ago was becoming the bane of your existence. Speaking of banes, Azul couldn’t be more insufferable with his know it all attitude.

You had not realized that Crowley’s demeanor had shifted to something much darker and sinister as the arguing winded along. Finally he broke. Just like his tea cup.

“SILENCE,” the crow man shouted, effectively silencing the Dorm leaders, “YOU ALL HAVE ME SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR CONSTANT SHOUTING MATCHES!”

“Headmaster, you are shouting yourself,” Kalim said, matter of factory, scratching his temple with a single digit.

“Ah. Ahem, excuse me,” Crowley let the components of the tea cup he shattered crumble to the floor. They landed with a clink in the quiet room. “It’s been consistent arguments from you all and it’s very disappointing to witness this kind of behavior from you, who are considered elites at this already elite institution. I will not tolerate this blatant insubordination. You are Dorm heads and as such, are expected to conduct yourselves like so under all circumstances. You’ve disrespected and defiled your titles with your selfish and childish behavior and have left me no choice but to give a punishment of the worst severity.”

A heavy quietude hung in the air. The threat breathed down all your necks as you all waited with bated breaths. You hoped Crowley wouldn’t dish out the very formidable punishment to you. After all, you’d done nothing wrong. Crowley wouldn’t know what was coming his way if he even considered involving you in any more Dorm leader altercations.

Riddle braved up a few ass kissing words, “We understand Headmaster and will accept any punishment you give us”

“It was completely juvenile of us to act in such a way that defiles the good image of a Dorm leader,” Vil followed up.

“Yes, we profoundly apologize and will not do it again.” Azul bowed his head in shame.

Leona said nothing, for he had been truthful with his feelings and felt no remorse in expressing them. He thought the other three looked quite like boot-lickers offering suck up statements. Whatever Crowley had to offer, he could take it.

Bring it on he mentally challenged the bird man.

“Your punishment is,” Crowley sucked in a long breath, purposely leaving you all with the suspense. “So horrific you’ll spend every single day in complete and utter agony. Every moment will be a torturous reliving of your worst nightmare. You will come out changed men... traumatized changed men.” A few had nervous sweat drops rolling down their temples and others looked comically stone faced. “You all will be subjected to the cruelest, most severe repercussion.” Crowley said, “You will be subjected to...” and you all stood at the edge of your seats. The time came when he revealed the long awaited words, “A sleepover.”

“Huh?”

Leona was wrong...

HE COULD NOT TAKE THAT! Bring it back! Sweet sweet and noble ancestor, reverse this curse-

“WHAT!?” Vil’s shrill scream was enough to make you wince. Azul was stunned to silence much like the rest of you.

In all honesty you didn’t think it was that bad. Until-

“In Ramshackle dorm-“

“WHAT!?” It was your turn to scream as you stood up, knocking your stool over and causing a cry as it made harsh contact with the floor.

“For seven days-“

“WHAT!?” You all shouted in unison, baffled by the unexpected turn of events.

Crowley had nerve.

“To offer my dorm like that,” you sputtered in disbelief, “it’s unacceptable Headmaster!”

“Fufu, it’s the only place big enough to house you eight and isolated enough to keep you from interacting with anyone but each other.” Crowley explained as if you had all accepted it and come to terms yet. You would raise hell before you even considered allowing it. And you did.

“I refuse-“

“I override your refusal. This is for the benefit of the school and my decision is final.” That piece of no good dog shit. Bird brains were small with high capacities however this one seemed to only be small and know how to only be small. “I am very busy so I cannot police the Dorm leaders into acting civilized enough to not embarrass the school. However I will provide Ramshackle with all the necessities to host the additional seven temporary students for I am gracious.” He goaded.

“No Headmaster, you are not being gracious at all,” you fired back, “I don’t understand why you have to lump me in with all of them. Never mind that I am a Dorm leader, you never recognize me as an official one except when you need something from me. On top of that, why is Kalim, Idia, and Malleus being punished as well?”

“Kalim and Idia have previously participated in the discourse. As for Malleus...” Crowley rubbed his chin, “Well, I suppose it would be a learning experience for him. I’m sure Lilia will approve.”

“You still haven’t answered why you’re lumping me in as well- Hey!” You cried as you ran after the bird man who had hopped out of the window and was falling fifty feet. “Headmaster you can’t just leave without an explanation!”

“But I have explained already,” his voice echoed as you leaned out the cavity in the stained glass pane, “You are an impressive beast tamer! I trust all will go well in your hands! And be sure to have Ramshackle dorm ready to receive its new students by 7:00pm tomorrow!”

Ah... he was gone just like that. What do you know, he didn’t even let you chew him out...

The room that had been in chaos suddenly descended into a space void of any sound but breathing.

“Don’t say anything,” you weakly mumbled as you glared at the spires of NRC, the wind blowing through the flags and essentially masking Crowley’s location. You were sure that everyone had heard the crow man’s last few shouts of information, but had probably missed the one that pertained particularly to you. Defeated you turned to the rest and said in an eerily calm voice, “I need to make the preparations, please be on time tomorrow evening and make sure you have everything you will need for a week”

“But wait, aren’t you against this? Why are you suddenly giving in?” Kalim uttered, probably put off by your change in demeanor. In truth, you were still definitely against it but you took Crowley’s words like a threat.

Fingers tapped against your chin, “I think all of our hands are tied. You guys can’t disobey Crowley and I can’t afford to put him in bad graces with me.”

“Still, for him to just declare something like that and disappear without elaborating...” Vil seemed exasperated as the rest of you. You could hear Idia’s nervous breathing through the tablet as Riddle spoke up.

“With or without elaborating, it’s like you said,” he gestured to you, “we cannot disobey. Especially as he is correct in the fact that we have acted out of line.”

“Regardless of how quickly things have happened, I’ll have you guys know that I lock the doors at 10:00pm sharp. Be on time please.” You were already picking up your bag and heading out the door dejectedly. “Also, don’t forget anything!”

•———•••———•••———•••———•••———•

Ahaaa this chapter is super rushed and choppy but I’m looking most forward to writing interactions between the characters as they all settle into their new lifestyles for a whole week.

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #reader insert

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

College au part 2

Home, a place where I can go to take this off my shoulders- someone take me home (Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha – Home)

They are there for each other, the good and the bad. That’s what family is for, after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-I'm so gay -sighed Miguel almost dreamingly, stopping next to Slobo by the doors leading to the backyard.

Blissfully unaware of them, Tim was going through his usual routine of what seemed a mix of gymnastics, various martial arts and parkour, with a side of dancing to spice things up.

His friend snorted without even raising his eyes from the motorcycle engine he was trying to fix. A blasphemy, in Miguel's humble opinion, to have such an amazing view and to not take advantage of it.

-I know.

He dropped to the ground, head resting on Slobo's shoulder, gaze unwavering in his appreciation of slim muscles and perfectly controlled strength. Tamed power to the fullest.

-I mean like, really really gay.

-Yeah, what else is new? Pass me the motor oil.

He blindly patted the ground for it, picking something vaguely shaped like a can and thrusting it to where he thought were the other's hands.

When Tim bends over and starts stretching, Miguel wheezes and drops the can.

-I'm so stupidly, non functionally gay.

Slobo rolled his eyes and picked it up, his other hand going to close Miguel’s jaw.

-Dude that's all old news. Either come here with fresh gossip, be helpful, or leave. I don't need you making a mess of my stuff. You are getting your hormones all over my individual bubble.

Miguel sighed again, eyes almost physically turning into hearts when Tim stretched his arms over his head.

-Fuck, I can’t handle this much inner gay. It’s overwhelming.

-Nothing inner about it, dude. You’re dripping it all over my work station. Can’t you go be a disaster gay somewhere else?

-Tim is here, so no can do.

-Can’t you just ask him out and save us all the pining show and second hand embarrassment?

A few meters away, Tim had taken out the bo staff and was practicing some moves. He accidentally brushed a branch (a thick one, from the pine tree Kon’s grandparents had made him plant upon moving there), and snapped it in half. He seemed kinda sheepish about it, which was both adorable and terrifying. Miguel was scared and horny.

-He’d destroy me.

Slobo hummed, hand reaching up to pat Miguel in the shoulder.

-Sounds like something you’d be kinda into, though.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-This coffee tastes like dirt -complained Tim, while chugging half the pot in one long gulp.

Distantly, Cassie noted there was still steam coming out of the liquid. Hadn’t Tim just brew it? Also, was it completely dark? No sugar?

Like her future?

Despairingly, she let her head fall again on the table.

-Why did I get into politics?

-Your pathological need to fulfill Diana’s expectations -replied Cissie, sitting across from her, long hair in what could have been a bun once upon a time but now looked more like a bird’s nest. That had been hit by lighting. Repeatedly.

It strangely suited her. Or it could be Cassie’s adoration for her friend speaking, who the fuck knows.

-Which, I might add -interjected Tim, not waiting for them to say ‘you may’ before continuing. Because he was a rude bastard like that- you invented by yourself. Diana only hopes you don’t end up in jail. And if it's for the right causes, she might even forgive that.

He dropped to the ground for no discernible reason, back to the cabinets where they kept the fine cutlery they never used. He was staring at the halfway empty pot like it contained the key to conquering mankind.

Knowing Tim, it might actually be true.

-Don’t try to take over the world -she asked, worried he might. Cissie made a confused sound, not privy to Cassie’s internal monologue, but Tim just nodded distractedly, which was all she needed before turning back to her half done paper.

-How are you doing, sis?

-Sis like sister, o Ciss like Cissie? -came Tim’s voice from behind her, probably still sitting on the ground.

-Yes.

-Oh -the girl in front of her blinked- sorry, you were talking to me?

-I mean�� Tim is not ‘sis’.

-I resent that, I totally could be. Also, seriously, why does my coffee taste like dirt?

-Don’t drink it then. You were saying, honey?

Cassie rested her chin on a hand, elbow carefully to the side of her paper.

-How are you doing?

-Wondering why did I ever thought studying psychology was a good idea. Why? Who started me on this path, and can I punch them? -her voice raised higher and higher the more distressed she got- Tim? Do you remember?

-Your therapist back in high school got you out of your toxic home life and helped you basically re-build your sense of self worth. Also you like to get into everyone’s business so Kon suggested making a career out of it.

-Remind me to punch him later.

-You could break your hand, and you have an archery competition this friday.

-Kick him, then.

-Got ya.

-Can I just die? -interjected Cassie, phone at hand. Her screen displayed a text sent by a classmate, who updated her on their due date. Apparently, she had calculated wrong and it was way sooner than what she thought- What’s the worst that could happen if I die? I’m sure people would get over it.

-You’d be losing all the progress you made in your career so far -reminded her Cissie.

Tim’s voice joined from behind- Included, but not limited to, that one class you had with the douche professor. Imagine if you lost your progress and had to start over. Imagine having class with him again.

She shivered- That was both incredibly motivational, and unholily terrorizing.

Greta entered the kitchen then. She looked fresh and cute, which was probably due to her having a full night’s sleep.

-Wow, you three have been here the whole night? -she asked, obviously concerned, looking over Cissie’s shoulder at her assignment- Did you guys even make progress? At all? -her eyes discovered Tim’s half assed project, on the place next to where Cissie sat.

If Cassie didn’t love her so much, she would punch her in the face.

Tim sighed.

-I can’t get up. I can’t feel my legs -he admitted. Cassie thinks, she should be worried. Losing sensibility seemed like a serious problem. But, whatever, Greta was here, and she was perfectly well rested. Let her take care of the worrying.

-Tim? Oh my god, are you alright? -she rushed to his side.

-I think the coffee stopped making effect, and my three-on-a-row all nighters caught up to me. Just let me die, Greta. If coffee is not longer working on my body, I might as well let the grim reaper do its thing.

Cassie couldn’t see her any longer, since she was at her back by Tim’s side, but she could still somehow sense her concern growing.

-Tim... Did you use this bag by the coffee maker to brew it?

-I can’t move my head to look up at what you’re pointing, but I guess I did.

-Oh, honey… that is soil for Kon’s vegetable plot. Not coffee grounds.

-...so that’s why it tasted like dirt. Thank god. Excuse me while I faint.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-I think Conner is dead on our living room -announced Miguel entering the kitchen. Slobo, Anita and Greta didn’t even blink, just kept their... poker? game going.

-He’s probably just sleeping -the other man waved a hand dismissively- Did you check his pulse or something?

-Ew, no. What if he’s really dead? I don’t want to touch a corpse. Greta, you go touch it.

-Why me?

-If anyone will need to put their fingerprints in a veritable crime scene, who better than the only one with no criminal record?

-Tim doesn't have it either, go knock on his door and tell him to do it. I’m about to swindle both these jerks.

-There’s a difference between never getting caught by the police, and erasing all virtual proof of your crimes. Tim belongs to the second group. Also, last I checked, he and Bart were working on something on his room. I’m not approaching that danger zone without protective equipment.

-Speaking of -Slobo raised his head, looking around- has anyone bought them food in the last couple of hours?

-Kon, probably.

-He is dead -he reminded them- Cassie and Cissie are still asleep, and I’m not waking them up. Greta?

Out of their group, Conner was Tim and Bart’s official handler (when Tim was not micromanaging them all, at least; little control freak). Many people believed he lifted at the gym to get all the girls; in truth, as the boy had once told Miguel, it was so he could carry both his friends to bed in one trip to tuck them in at the same time, because if he did it separately, the one that got to be second always tried to make a run for it.

In the event he was unavailable, Cassie took over. Her skills with a lasso and years of practice at the rodeo came in handy then, and it never failed to crack him up when he saw how swiftly she caught them both.

And if she wasn’t close or was busy, then Cissie took over for Bart and Greta for Tim, as they could only handle one at the time.

The rest of them were last resource. Second to last was Jason Todd, who as both Tim’s brother and Bart’s TA held a fair amount of power over them.

If Jason told them to fuck off, then Slobo, Miguel and Anita would talk it out among themselves. Slobo would suggest knocking them out. Which, considering Bart’s speed and Tim’s mindblowing ninja training (and where the hell did he learn that, they would never know), wasn’t a very realistic option. Anita suggested drugs; but between Bart’s ADHD medication and Tim’s antibiotics for his lack of spleen and antidepressants, the adverse effects made them all a little uncomfortable with the idea.

Miguel’s own suggestions, which involved a lot of tender care and coddling, where ignored with a few laughs and a shrug.

-Fuck you, I’m not leaving this table so close to cleaning you both up. If you are worried, you go feed them.

Slobo shrugged.

-If they die, I call Tim’s room. Having a roommate is the worst.

-Excuse you -raised an eyebrow Miguel, walking to the fridge for a drink. He might as well watch the game.

-If I have to listen to you practicing your singing before showering one more time...

-If I can deal with you cursing at your phone at five am, you can deal with my melodious voice -Miguel blinked- That’s not poker.

-We are playing Truco.

-What?

-It’s a popular game in Argentina, or so Tim said. He taught us when he was having a coffee break this morning. And by the way: Truco, bitches!

-I’m in! -Slobo yelled back.

Greta looked at her cards impassively, then at the ones laying on the table between the three of them, before raising an eyebrow- I call Re Truco.

Miguel watched them go for a while. He wasn’t sure on the rules, but from the way they kept yelling, he knew it was highly competitive. It also seemed to involve a great amount of deceit, bullshiting and being as poker faced as possible. It made sense that Tim had been the one introducing them to the game. Speaking of…

-Maybe if I knock on the door with a coffee offering, he’ll listen to me without punching my nose in? -he mumbled to himself, aware that the others were ignoring him. Decided to test his luck, he climbed to his feet and readied the coffee maker.

The rest of the afternoon saw Miguel sitting on Tim’s bed, watching from the sidelines how both he and Bart built… something. It had a chainsaw and a mini shield, so maybe a fighting bot? There were some (not very legal) competitions around campus...

It was almost dinner time when he remembered a tiny, small detail.

-Man, I’m so hungry. You guys think dinner is ready? -asked Bart, hand sweeping the sweat off his forehead- Who was in charge of it tonight?

Lightning-like realization hit Miguel.

-Oh, yeah, speaking of that… Kon was probably dead, last time I checked. Maybe we should order a pizza or something?

-Cool, I could do pizza.

-I’m sorry, Kon was what?!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-You guys need jobs -told them Tim one morning over breakfast. They had just moved in together, and classes were about to start. Nobody seemed willing to talk about responsibility yet, but he felt like they needed the push to do it.

-I have a job -proudly smiled Bart, eyes never leaving the TV where his character was beating Kon’s into a bloody plump. He didn’t elaborate past that, and Tim made a mental note to investigate further later. Bart’s career was enough, they needn't add another unsolved mystery.

-Where is this coming from, though? We have loads of time for that -scoffed Slobo, watching the game intently.

-Classes are starting soon, and people will be getting all the good jobs. I did some calculations, and the money you guys have been saving for living expenses will run out in two, three months tops. Greta has the coffee shop thing and Cassie just got called back from the movie theatre, but the rest of you need to find some money maker. Stat.

-And what about you? -threw Cissie back, internally agreeing with him but despising the reality check.

Tim looked at her, completely deadpan. Silently, he took out his wallet, fishing three cards (one silver, one golden and one black) from it and showing them to her.

-Even before being adopted by a billionaire, I already was a rich trust fund baby. And now that I’ve said it, I’m gonna avoid getting punched by making my exit. Good luck job hunting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cassie and Anita’s room was ground floor, along with the kitchen, living room, laundry area, a medium size bathroom with a shower, and a very small one with only the toilet and sink. The second floor housed Bart and Conner’s room, along with Miguel and Slobo’s, and Cissie and Greta’s, plus the biggest bathroom, with both a tub and shower. The attic had been claimed by Tim, who won that right by paying the deposit for the house on top of his part of the rent. It was the biggest room, the size of the entire house without partitions, with only one separation in the form of the small sized bathroom. He loved his room, would pay twice what he coughed up to have it. It was worth it, every cent.

He loved his attic; The bathroom, however, was another thing. It ran out of warm water constantly.

-This is the second time this month. I love you, but you aren’t burrowing our bath -denied Cissie firmly, arms crossed as she waited outside the door for Greta to finish her shower-. If it was any other day I’d say yes, you know I would, but you aren’t the only one that needs to get ready for the movie, and there’s six of us sharing here. Go ask the girls.

Defeated but understanding, he went another floor down, arms full with his skin and hair care products (he had a image to keep, and one never knew when paparazzi would be around; he and his brothers had a steady competition on who got caught in camera being a ugly mess the least, that he wasn’t willing to lose) and clean clothes.

Anita shrugged when she opened the door, still naked except from her towel and hair dripping.

-Yeah, Cassie already took hers. Just remember to lock the door, dude. Since its ground floor bathroom, someone always tries to get in to pee when you’re showering, it’s annoying. Also, don’t come at me with complains about hair in the drain, okay?

Thankful beyond caring, he nodded and hurried towards it.

He wasn’t expecting what he found there. Already halfway to the shower, he stopped to leave his folded clothes on top of the cabinet near the sink when he saw...

-Why are there weapons here? -he couldn't help but scream, clutching a towel to his naked chest. He felt distinctly like a victorian lady preserving her virtue from a foe. It was a very curious feeling.

-I said no judgements!! -Anita yelled back from across the hallway.

-Yeah, regarding hair on the floor! Nobody said anything about weapons!

-So I forgot my katana there after my shower, big deal. Just don’t fall on it, problem solved.

-No, I’m used to seeing your katana, but why the fuck do you girls have cat shaped brass knuckles?

-They are cute and useful! Aren’t you taking a shower, dude? The movie starts soon!

Deciding that this wasn't a battle worth picking, he turned on the warm water. Ahh, nice, wonderful hot water.

-Oh, Tim! -came Cassie’s yell- Don’t lock the door, forget what Anita said! I need to put on my make up and that mirror is better than the one in our room.

-I’m gonna be showering though.

-And?

Yeah, she had a point. Shrugging, he made sure the door was unlocked before stepping under the water and closing the curtain.

He heard her coming in and rummaging through one of the little bags he saw on the sink cabinet. He couldn't help but ask.

-Why do you guys keep weapons here?

-They are for when we are most vulnerable.

-With thighs like yours you’re never vulnerable.

-I love you. But just pretend I have noodle legs, for argument’s sake.

-Mkay.

-Well, name one instance when you’re more weak and exposed than when you’re taking a shower.

-...Yeah, I follow. Still seems a bit excessive, but I do like that pointy needle thing you have by the blow dryer. I need to get my sister one of those, cute and deadly like her.

-That? Oh, honey, no, that’s a hair pin.

-If you put your hair in a bun and use that as an ornament, you’d never be unarmed, that’s all I’m saying. Again, cute and deadly.

-...You’ve opened my eyes.

-You’re welcome. May I borrow your eyeliner?

-Sure, but why? You don’t usually use makeup.

-If I make myself long enough wings, maybe I’ll be able to fly away from my problems. Or look fabulous enough to not care about them.

-In moments like this I’m reminded of my undying love for you. Do my eyes too.

-Gotcha.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He came home five minutes after receiving the text, chest heaving from the run and heart beating furiously for a entirely different reason.

Cassie, phone at hand, was waiting by the door. Her eyes were solemn.

-What happened? -he asked, not bothering with niceties as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

-Family dinner went wrong -she shrugged-, not that he told me. Bart was playing games when he walked in and he texted Jason, who told him, and then he came to me.

Fuck them, Kon thought uncharitably. The Waynes were both an awesome family, and boarding on toxic. Guessing which kind were they going to be any given week was like playing lottery. It was such a Murphy law thing that they went for shitty this particular weekend, where Tim could have used their love and support the most.

-How is Jason? -he asked, not that he cared too much, but because he knew Tim would want to know sooner or later.

-Bart didn’t say, but he did mention he was hanging out with Kori and Roy, and Artemis said in the family group chat to not bother her tonight, so I’m assuming she’s there too.

-Biz is still at the farm, but three is better than nothing -he sighed, taking off his coat and walking towards the stairs- Bart?

-He just convinced Tim to take a bath in the big tub, so he’s probably standing guard by the door.

A nod, Kon’s steps hurried with purpose now that he had a clear destination in mind.

-The others?

Cassie waved vaguely towards the arch on the wall leading to the living room. Kon could see someone moving there from the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to check; he wouldn't be derailed from his path.

-Greta went to the attic to clean Tim’s room a bit. You know he doesn't have the strength to do it himself right now, but seeing it like that also makes him feel worse. Cissie and Anita are readying the living room for a movie night, picking up all the pillows and blankets in the house. A pillow fort might be in the making.

They were on the second floor now. Kon could see Bart ahead, back resting against the wall, just by the side of the door.

-Slobo ran to Tim’s favorite pizza place -Cassie kept going, keeping pace with him- and should be back soon; Miguel went to the store to buy comfort food, sweets and stuff. Ice cream too, probably.

Conner nodded again, glad to see everyone was following their protocol for these kind of situations. All their housemates accounted for, he stopped in front of Bart and patted his shoulder comfortingly. He was very empathetic, tended to pick up on everyone’s moods, specially Tim’s, and let himself be influenced by them. The shadows on his eyes were probably a mirror image of how their friend currently taking a bath was doing. Not so hot, apparently.

-I’ll take it from here, you guys go put on your pajamas and help the girls get everything ready -he suggested, eyes going to Cassie’s. She nodded, understanding that her mission now was to calm Bart down. Helping Anita and Cissie would do wonders for him.

On most situations, the group tended to follow Tim’s lead, their indisputable commander in chief; when he couldn’t be there, or was too emotionally compromised, Cassie would take over. However, in this particular scenario, everyone deferred to him for some reason. Maybe because he’s been with Tim for the longest time, maybe because he knew him best. It didn’t matter; all he cared about was that it made his work easier, and they seemed glad to have a task they could focus on, rather than dwelling in concern.

Softly, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

-Tim? I’m coming in, dude -he informed him, voice low as to not spook him if he was dissociating. The last they needed was him slipping in the shower.

When no answer came, he entered the steamy bathroom, door closing behind him. As Cassie had predicted, Tim was sitting in the almost full tub, knees hugged to his chest and chin resting above them. His eyes went to Conner when he approached him though, which was a good enough sign to make him visibly sigh in relief.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, as if he wanted to snap at him that he didn’t need them to take care of him, but then he just deflated and looked ahead again, not nearly strong enough to fight.

Knot growing on his chest, Kon sat by the tub’s edge- Hey there. You’re not looking very cool right now. Have I ever told you I despise like 66% of your family?

-Three out of six is not 66%.

-Three? I only like Alfred and Cass.

-You don’t dislike Jason.

-I mean, it varies from moment to moment. But I’ll give you that since you’re feeling bad, and concede on 50%.

Tim snorted a little, and his eyes didn’t look as dead as they had when Kon first came in, so he gave himself infinite Best Friend points.

-Want to talk about it? -he asked gently, hand on Tim’s wet shoulder. He felt more like saw him shrug.

-Nothing to tell, really… It was more of the same shit. I love them, but sometimes they…

-Don’t make it easy, huh?

-...yeah. I don’t even know why I’m so fucked up over it, I’m used to this.

Kon squeezed his shoulder- Your psychiatrist warned you, this week was gonna be tough even without the family drama. Your body is adjusting to the new medication, and it…

-Yeah, yeah, I know -he sighs, sinking deeper into the water- I just… I just hate this. That my brain works like that, that I worry you all, that I can’t just fucking deal with it alone. You know what Jack used to say about mental illness…

-A stupid bastard’s words shouldn't be taken seriously. And you know we don’t like the J word in this house, it’s one of the rules.

Tim’s smile, small and tentative, was a thing of beauty. It never failed to remind Kon why he put so much effort into making the situation better for his friend, when he saw that it actually did help.

-You guys can’t just erase my father from my memory by sheer force of will and avoidance of the topic.

-Sure we can -he gave his shoulder a light pat-. The boys will be here soon with food, and I heard a movie night is in order. You done with your bath? We could stay here longer if you want to, though.

Tim’s smile grew a little bit, cheeks warming, delighted despite himself at the love and care that was being bestowed upon him. Some time ago, he might have fought them over it; the progress was hard earned, but Kon wouldn't change a single thing about it.

-Yeah, I just have to put conditioner on and comb my hair -he hesitated a bit, glancing down at his arms hugging his legs and probably weighing their strength-. Could you, uh… do it for me?

Kon had already been reaching for the bottle even before he asked.

There was little he could do to help Tim, medical wise. But there were professionals for that, and after many late night talks and specially bad episodes, Tim had gotten better at seeking their help when needed.

What he could do was no less important, though; making sure their home was a safe, supportive, non-toxic place for him to come back to.

That’s what best friends-- what family was there for.

63 notes · View notes

thomas-reynolds · 3 years

Text

CAUGHT UP // 001

WHO: Griffin x Jamie x Thomas WHERE: The apartment. TW/NOTES: Nsfw. Griff and Tommy-boy come home early from the bar thanks to Griffin’s heavy drinking, and catch Jamie in the act with some dude. Things get heated and not in the fun way, and they end up a little worse for wear.

JAMIE ::

"My place doesn't work." Those four fateful words would normally leave Jamie shrugging and moving on to the next guy. It was a night out, after all, and he didn't have to take home the first hot guy he found. But this one was so hot. Taller than him, but just slightly. Bright blue eyes and a come and get me grin. Maybe it was more the attitude than the looks, and maybe James had downed one too many gold rushes. Maybe it was the fact that it was the beginning of summer, and hot was taking on multiple meanings here. James couldn't put his finger on what the hell it was that made him say these bolds words, but he heard himself saying them all the same. "Let's go back to my place." A husky whisper in the other guy's ear, and the two of them tumbled out of the club and into a cab.

Jamie lost his shirt at the front door, a solid thud echoing through the place as he was backed against it, and then a moan as his hookup- David? Daniel? kissed along his neck, his hands moving lower. "Don't leave a mark." He was already living dangerously. Odds were that Thomas and Griffin wouldn't randomly end up coming back home, but you could never be too careful. Now that he'd gotten that one stipulation out of the way, it was all too easy to let go and focus on the feelings. This would only ever happen once, and since he was already damned anyway, he might as well make the most of it.

More clothes were shed as they made their way to a bedroom. He didn't stop to shut the door, his hands too busy roaming Daryl's body to think of such a mundane detail. He didn't need to prepare himself much before he situated himself on top, sinking down onto the beautiful man's cock and thoroughly enjoying the view. He was close when everything went south. It was nice, having the place to himself, not needing to bother with being quiet. He was breathing hard by this point, choosing expletives that he wouldn't be caught dead saying in church instead of accidentally moaning the wrong name.

GRIFFIN ::

Getting kicked out of a bar was not new for Griffin Rollins, but getting kicked out just after nine o’clock was impressive. Or embarrassing, if he had any shame left, but he didn’t seem to, not with the way Thomas’ lecture was just rolling off his back. He could probably recite the speech back to him at this point - y’know, when he could string a sentence together without slurring. It probably meant something that the barkeep knew to call Thomas - his roommate, yes; his buddy, sure; but decidedly not a loved one, not his significant other - but that was the nice thing about being this hammered: Griffin could blissfully ignore all the flashing neon signs from the universe that he was, in fact, still a fuck-up.

That same universe was spinning by the time the men reached their front door, the dark-haired one making a valiant effort to retrieve his keys only for his hand to be impatiently batted away. As they stepped into their place, Griffin moaned out a curse - or, he thought he did, but it didn’t sound like himself. And it was coming from the wrong direction.

His eyes flashed over to Thomas’ face, trying to decipher what the fuck was going on, and he looked as far from happy as he had when he’d showed up at the bar, but now the daggers weren’t being directing at Griffin. The blonde was looking past him, and it took a carefully-executed turn to discover what he was looking at: a naked hottie riding a cock in Pearson’s bed. Griffin’s liquor-fogged mind took what felt like an eon to realize that was bad, for two reasons. 1) The naked hottie was not Thomas’ sister, and 2) The naked hottie was Pearson.

Griffin’s fingers immediately fisted in the front of Thomas’ shirt, partially in an attempt to keep him exactly where he was, and partially to keep himself upright. “Hey, hey, Tommy, hey -”

THOMAS ::

Getting the call shouldn’t have come as any sort of surprise. After all, Thomas took more phone calls regarding Griffin’s health and well-being than he’s sure Griffin’s own mother ever took. Picked him up from enough bars, enough gutters, even football practice when they were teens and his mom conveniently ‘forgot’ him at the school. Typically, Thomas wore the eternal baby-sitter badge like a medal of honor - used it to badger and annoy Griffin into some semblance of shame when he was even a modicum of sober. Now though, when Thomas himself had been getting his feet wet at the bar, a young brunette with too dark lipstick and overly straightened hair, but big enough breasts to be worth his effort practically hanging off of his arm - now it was annoying.

Even when it was more tolerable, Thomas didn’t let Griffin think otherwise anyway, but still. The point still stands, he thought, staring at the doors of a crusty old bar that screamed ‘burn your clothes when you leave here’ and definitely had enough bikers and hookers outside to make your grandmother faint on impact. Convincing the bouncer to not knock his friend’s head in was simple enough, it was actually the waitress whom Griffin palmed on the way out that seemed to cause the most trouble - and by the time they were on the way back to the apartment, drunken hands pulling at the collar of Thomas’ shirt (and stretching out the goddamned hole), Thomas had almost begun his ranting on auto pilot.

A little, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that? Like a fucking gutter rat. What the fuck were you drinking anyway? You smell like fucking paint-thinner --” The words died on Thomas’ lips, cheeks, ears and chest heating in a way that would make him worry that he’s finally going six feet under (and maybe he is, if his blood pressure could go any higher), and it reminded him of the time he got incredibly crossfaded at Brittany Deering’s party back in 10th grade and blacked out in her bathtub for a few hours, barely avoiding being puked and pissed on by fellow students in the same position as him. It took him entirely too quickly, Thomas’ body moving on its own accord, Griffin’s hands pawing at him like a cheap stripper, and Pearson’s wide open door looked like a gateway to Heaven, or at the very least a convenience store with the automatic slider-doors jammed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Thomas’ voice didn’t sound like his own, but he supposed that it was difficult to even hear properly with all of the blood rushing through his ears, “I will kill you.” The thump in his chest had nothing to do with the fact that his best friend was clearly cheating on his sister with some...some fruity weirdo with floppy hair and stupidly blue eyes, but he was bound and determined to ignore that little fact - ignore the voice that said just tell him already and instead, encouraged the one that said, he’s got a nice neck for strangling.

“This is what you do when we’re not here? Fool around with discount Matthew McConaughey?” It definitely wasn’t a snarl, if you asked Thomas, but the clenching fist at his side, the one not hanging onto Griffin’s half-dead body, promised something lethal.

JAMIE ::

“Fuuuuck-“ turned into “Oh, fuck” entirely too quickly for Jamie’s liking. He was off that dick quicker than he’d moved in a long time. Hastily looking over his shoulder and seeing Thomas’ face twisted in rage should have killed his hard on in an instant, but it didn’t. He’d blame that on how hot Damon was and how far along into their hookup they’d been. “Fuck off Thomas, you two were supposed to be out, anyway!” He stepped into his underwear quickly, pulling on a pair of pants hastily as well. “What the fuck?” Danny was dazed, understandably confused that all of the sudden their hookup for two was now a foursome. Then, “Is that your boyfriend?”

“No!” James replied immediately, forcing a look of disgust at the mere thought of it. Or at least, his best attempt. “You need to go.” There was no salvaging this hookup, unfortunately, and he was just glad that he’d managed to make it to his own room so sweatpants were readily available. Damian had apparently gotten the point and was quickly getting redressed as well. Thomas was still mad, and honestly it was probably best to just let him be mad instead of trying to placate him. Trying that would only make it worse. Nah, he was gonna let the anger run its course and then let it go. But then it hit him, and all the color drained from his face. “You can’t tell her.” The thought of that happening made him want to throw up, and he moved a little closer, eyes wide and a little scared even as he tried to hide it. “It was nothing. Just blowing off some steam, and it doesn’t even count, you wouldn’t have known because you two were supposed to be out!” His gaze turned accusingly to Griffin for a second, and it didn’t take long to piece together what had happened. “And besides, Griffin is drunk, clearly we have bigger problems to worry about.” Yeah, pull focus. Dawson could sneak out while the two of them had a serious talk with Griffin about substance use. Jamie’s gaze flashed to Griffin again. He couldn’t decide which one of them to look at at this point. Griffin was most likely to take his side here, so he probably shouldn’t have just thrown him under the bus.

GRIFFIN ::

Griffin managed a small, two-finger salute to Jamie’s date as he passed by, clothing in his arms - or maybe it looked like he was putting a gun to his own temple, which also seemed applicable. His eyes followed the stranger’s naked ass until it disappeared into the bathroom, just in time to detect his name tumbling into this shitshow. “‘m always drunk,” he shot back in what he genuinely believed to be a solid defense. “Dsn’t count.”

God, he just wanted to be on a horizontal surface, even if it was Jamie’s bed of iniquity, and he considered making a move toward it until his last brain cell insisted that his deadweight was likely the only thing keeping Thomas anchored in place. If he could just defuse this disaster of a situation, he knew the blonde would get him into his own bed. Or the couch. Or at least onto the kitchen floor with a towel for a blanket.

“Tommy, Tommy, TommyTommyTommy, listen ... listen t’ me ... your sisterdsn’t have a dick!” he offered, finally releasing the other man’s shirt in order to wave his hands in a messy what’re-ya-gonna-do gesture. By his incredibly flawed, alcoholic logic, if Pearson wanted to fuck a dude - and understandably so, dudes being as hot as they were - he couldn’t go to Thomas’ sister. No harm, no ... whatever.

THOMAS ::

Thomas steadily ignored his own feline-reminiscent hiss as Hunky Brewster walk-of-shame’d his way out of their apartment, passing it off as some sort of controlling his temper, or silently letting out a prayer to the God he didn’t believe in but heard enough about from Jamie. The heat turned to ice in the pit of his glorious, god-like abdomen after every single ‘Tommy’ that left his friend’s mouth, “Griff, shut your fucking mouth -- and you,” He practically spit, pulling both himself and Griffin closer to the blonde in the bedroom like a boat and a buoy toward the middle of a storm, “It’s not cheeeeeeating as long as you don’t get caaaaught.” Thomas mocked his friend as the storm seemed to settle inside of his own chest, thunder and lightning begging to be let out through some sort of violence.

“I’m going to kick your ass - and then, I’m going to call my sister, and she’s going to come over here and kick your ass, you stupid, useless moron.” The dark feelings seemed to bubble and burst all in one quick second, and if Thomas could have taken a breath and really looked at the situation for what it was, and the jealousy that seemed to eat at him, the conflict likely could have been avoided. But the thick stench of sweat and alcohol from Griffin, and the same aroma from Jamie’s room seemed to override any sort of consideration that Thomas could have provided. And with that, he dropped Griffin like a sack of fucking potatoes and darted for Jamie’s face, hissing when his hit landed. Thomas was too busy cradling his knuckles to know if he’d even hit his damned target, but the swelling would be worth it if he’d gotten to cause Jamie some sort of agony he’d have to live for the next few days too. Once the blind rage passed and Thomas was left shaking, clutching his wrist like grandmother’s prized fucking pearls, he finally bit words for Griffin instead, “I don’t care that my sister doesn’t have a goddamned dick - she’s - he spouts all of this holier-than-thou bullshit that he doesn’t even follow! He just committed sodomized, pre-marital sex! And he wasn’t even on top!”

The words felt hysterical, and the laughter that left Thomas wasn’t one filled with any sort of joy; it was hollow and empty, or maybe not empty, but only filled with envy and anger. He darted for Jamie again, hissing between his teeth.

JAMIE ::

James wasn’t sure when he realized that there wouldn’t be any coming back from this. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Thomas this pissed, and that was saying something. Hell, in the past, he’d helped talk Thomas down from being this pissed at someone else. Now the fury was totally directed at him, and he fought the instinct to move back as Thomas dragged himself and Griffin closer. He wasn’t a coward. “It’s not cheating if I don’t even know his name!” It was. It absolutely was, but he’d learned from the best how to navigate with a broken moral compass. This was quite literally a situation of how what someone didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He’d done this for years, from hurried hookups behind the bleachers to an empty dugout, sneaking out at midnight and meeting someone he’d used to go to Sunday school with. It was a sin, sure, but he wasn’t gay. He went to confession after every incidence, and he was forgiven. It was just that simple.

“Don’t,” he warned, his expression going from worried to murderous. “Tell her, Thomas, and I swear to God.” Might as well add taking the Lord’s name in vain. Today couldn’t possibly be any worse. In that moment, the bubble burst. It occurred to him briefly that Thomas could have set Griffin down nicely, but then it was too late as he felt pain exploding across his cheek. Thomas packed a pretty decent punch, even if he didn’t much look like it. For the moment, he resigned himself to it, didn’t hit back even though his fist balled up by his side and he wanted to. He’d stumbled back after the initial punch, but he regained his footing. And then Thomas was talking again, listing off all the big sins, sins that were meant to be kept in private, in the confessional booth, just him and the priest. That alone made him itch with rage, but he held back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t really want to hurt Thomas. But then he laughed and it all went to hell. He surged forward at the same time Thomas did, and they collided. “Fuck. You!” He threw the next punch, hoping to land a matching shiner, putting his full force behind it. He didn’t care anymore. “It doesn’t count as pre-marital,” he growled, “if it’s not a possibility to marry.” He still couldn’t make himself use the right pronoun.

GRIFFIN ::

Now, granted, he had been wanting to lie down, but hurtling to the hardwood without any warning hadn’t exactly been ideal. Griffin laid there, still more or less grateful to be off his feet, listening to an argument that probably would have seemed a fuckton more intense if it hadn’t sounded so underwater. He even missed the first punch, arm thrown over his eyes as he willed the room to knock it off with the spinning - but he did here the telltale sound of two bodies colliding, and forced himself up onto his elbows. And then onto his knees. And then onto his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey -“ The man had exactly one word in his vocabulary at the moment, which he repeated as he stumbled over to a mound of limbs made up of his two best friends. He was already pushing it, with the walking, but the attempt to pull one of the guys off the other almost knocked him right back of his feet. He survived, though - until a rogue fist that may or may not have been meant for him caught him right in the gut. He reeled back, taking one, two, three steps towards the door before doubling-over and vomiting in the corner of Jamie’s room.

Well, it had been inevitable. At least now that part of the night was over. “HEY.” There he was. Still just as unsteady on his feet, but with renewed frustration, Griffin threw himself back into the mix.

THOMAS ::

"You probably wish you could! I'm pretty fantastic!" Thomas screamed over the man, attempting to shove Jamie, and petulantly ignoring Griffin until the guy practically took an arrow for him, projectile vomiting in the same space as them. "Nice fucking job - punching the fucking drunk. Want to talk to God about that too? You like things in your ass and you hit your best friend!"

Griffin managed to get between them and Thomas couldn't help the muttered, "You fucking reek, dude-" that left him, his arm reaching out to swing wildly at Jamie over the other man's shoulder. How ridiculous, they must have looked, three grown men throwing punches and shouting expletives at one another in the middle of the night. If the neighbors banging on the wall were anything to go by, they probably agreed with him.

"Don't touch me - don't you fucking," Thomas hissed as a spare slap managed to get him right in the nose, rust immediately dripping over the bottom portion of his face, "I'm going to tell her so fucking hard, you son of a bitch," He whined around the hand cupping his nose and mouth, practically shielding himself with Griffin's larger body. "I can't stand you two - I - it smells like shit in here," The babbling continued, even though he really couldn't smell anything with his nose full of blood clots.

JAMIE ::

“I was on top!” Jamie insisted, shoving back at Thomas. He really hadn’t intended to punch Griffin, but he was the one who’d ended up throwing himself in between the two of them. What did he think was going to happen. “I was aiming for you, asshole!” His blood was really boiling right now, and Jesus, how had this night managed to go so horribly wrong? It had started out hot and fun and devolved into, well, whatever this shit show was.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he heard Griffin lose his dinner in the corner of his room. Add that to the list of shit that he didn’t want to deal with. He’d be cleaning it up, of course, because Griffin clearly wasn’t in any state to, and he didn’t want his room to smell like puke while he waited for Griffin to sober up and handle it. The one last slap was admittedly satisfying, but he had to calm down. He had bigger problems on his hands. He had to convince Thomas not to tell her.

It occurred to him way too quickly what he had to do, the only way he was going to appeal to Thomas’ sense of reason. “Fine!” He shouted numbly. “Tell her. But who else do you think is going to be with her? We break up, she ends up an old fucking spinster for the rest of her life. Is that what you want for her? Huh?” He gave one more shove to prove his point. “You tell her, and you break her fucking heart. And for what? Because I’m getting a little on the side that she can’t give me? I’m the perfect boyfriend, Thomas. She won’t get better than me, and you know it.”

GRIFFIN ::

Somehow managing to dodge what could have been a really unfortunate elbow, Griffin was perfectly content with standing between his roommates now that things had boiled over and resolved into a simmer; still hot, still able to burn, but not quite as active. The shouting, he was pretty desensitized to. Between the three of them, someone was perpetually shouting at the other two, or two were shouting at each other, or two were shouting at one (he was usually the one, and he was usually inebriated). It was a special occasion when the trio were all shouting, though, which is normally what got the neighbors involved. Griffin reached over to land his fist on the wall three or four times, acknowledging their neighbor’s participation.

His back was turned to Thomas, who, though taller, was probably less of a real physical threat. As a result, he missed the bloody nose, but he did catch sight of Jamie’s split lip and the scarlet mark that was going to bloom into one hell of a bruise. “Better tell ‘er ya got mugged,” he suggested, finally throwing over a glance over his shoulder to survey the damage that was Thomas’ face. “Botha you. Ah, fuck, are you bleedinon my shirt?!”

Griffin was quiet for the rest of Jamie’s tirade, mostly because this was not his fight, but also because he was on both of their sides, so far as thinking the other was a royal fucking asshole. Kate was the closest thing he had to a sister, and he didn’t love the idea of her getting fucked over, but he would have been smart enough to not let an asshole like James anywhere near her to start with. And furthermore, he’d mean what he’d said, inarticulate as it may have been; monogamy was a societal construct, sexuality was a spectrum, and this was probably the best case scenario for both of them, really. Kate got to seriously level up in the boyfriend department, and Jamie got a doting woman on his arm for the sake of appearances.

“I think,” he opined on a big sigh, running a hand through his hair as though he was going to lay down some actual wisdom - but that wasn’t his brand. “I think that we should get nachos.”

THOMAS ::

Clicking his tongue, Thomas swished the copper around in his mouth, glaring daggers at his roommate. He probably looked like he'd been bobbing for apples in fake blood at this point, but it felt oddly satisfying to look a little deranged compared to his normal well-kempt state. "Should I let her be with a cheater and a liar anyway? Yeah, real fucking smart, asshole --" Even with Griffin's knocking effectively breaking the tension, the neighbors yelling back through the wall, there was something still boiling under the surface.

Something volatile, something that went by the name Jade.

"You don't need any nachos," He murmured, somewhat numb, yet manic. Auto-pilot had taken over, his palm running over his face, and Thomas wiped the mess on the back of Griffin's shirt. Eyes never leaving Jamie's, Thomas slowly slipped forward face impassive, blank. "One more thing," Oddly calm, Thomas reached out with a gentle, blood-smeared hand and laid the palm of it on Jamie's shoulder. He let the moment settle, let the silence take over for a moment, until it was bordering on confusing, before throwing himself forward and headbutting the man in turn, immediate pain blossoming behind his forehead, and spraying them both with his now-unclotted nose. "Bitch," he snarled under the waterfall of blood, before groaning and taking a hasty step back toward his drunken friend, ready to use him as a shield again if need be.

JAMIE ::

"Why, so you can throw 'em up in a different part of my room?" He usually had the decency to at least make it to a communal space, and yeah, James was still a little pissed that he needed to be taken home at all when the two of them had planned to be out and about for the night. It was a valiant effort, trying to get the two of them back on the same side so they could stop with the arguing, but deep down, Jamie knew this wasn't the kind of fight that Thomas would just get over. He'd fucked up, big time, and now instead of facing the music, he was doubling down. It had all seemed so innocent, harmless even, when it was just him and the flavor of the night. If what's his name that started with a D hadn't been so fucking hot, maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.

He ventured a glance at Thomas, partially hating himself for the fact that he'd messed up such a pretty face, but a small little part of himself was satisfied at the damage done. Served him right. How fucking hard would it have been to just turn around and go somewhere else for ten minutes? By that point, the hookup would have been kicked out, and they could all pretend that it had never happened. Jamie could have been blissfully ignorant, and honestly, that was one of the most underrated states a person could be in.

When Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, he tried to keep his expression neutral. As much as he hated to admit it, that hand on his shoulder had grounded him many times in the past, and its presence was all tied up with feelings of comfort and safety, feelings he definitely wasn't getting just now. Sure as shit, next came the sucker punch in the form of a headbutt, and the "Ow!" was almost equal parts pain and surprise. "Asshole!" he groaned, and he couldn't even get to him without Griff getting involved again. "Griffin, just get out of here. This is between me and him, and some of us can't take a hit." Unfortunately for him, all of the hits were starting to take a toll.

GRIFFIN ::

“Ahhrgh, God damn it,” he growled as he felt Thomas’ hand smear his bodily fluids down his back, rolling his shoulders in discomfort before yanking his shirt off, rolling it into a ball and tossing it out into the hall. At least the blonde’s shirt was just as fucked, he noticed, attention on the slightly taller man as he approached James. Good, fine, Thomas would say his final piece and then everyone could just - “Fuck!”

Before he could fully process the sudden movement and the accompanying spray of gore, Thomas has slipped behind him and he was staring down Jamie, the youngest of their dysfunctional little crew. “C’mon, Jay, jus-go lay down,” he muttered, intending to give a good-natured push to the kid’s chest, but still intoxicated enough to not know his own strength. The adrenaline he didn’t realize had been streaming through his system turned it into a fully aggressive shove, and Griffin felt the muscles in his shoulders tense as some part of him anticipated retaliation. Blue eyes flashed. “Go ta’ bed, Jamie.”

THOMAS ::

"Suck my dick, Pearson--" Dark pupils dilated at the shove, watching with intense interest. It wasn't often that Jamie and Griffin disagreed wholeheartedly, or at the very least enough to get into a physical altercation. Usually it was Thomas gravitating toward the violence, toward harsh words that stung and bit at insecurities - usually he was the flint and steel basking at either of his friends' heels.

Still, it ignited something in him, to see Griffin shove the younger man, even if unintentionally. While they all agreed to disagree at who really was whose best friend, Thomas liked to believe he was just as much of a fire as he was the glue keeping them together. "You shoved him, man," The words were weirdly tense, odd even to himself, in the quiet of the room. "You gonna take that?" Blue eyes flick to Jamie's.

JAMIE ::

For a second, he considered it. He wasn't going to just lay down, but getting himself to a different room, where they kept the cleaning supplies probably, and doing something else was probably the best way to handle this. But then he shoved him, hard, as if to make sure to drive his point home. "Seriously?" he demanded, his own gaze accusing.

"You're seriously gonna take his side? I woulda come to get you too, and then none of this would have happened." He shoved back, not knowing or caring if Thomas was close enough to catch him. "You go to bed. I have someone else's mess to clean up, as usual." The puke in the corner of the room wasn't going anywhere, after all.

GRIFFIN ::

As he stumbled back into Thomas, Griffin’s ego maintained that he never would have budged if he’d been sober. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t; really, how often was he truly sober, so there wouldn’t be exactly an opportunity to find out. If he’d been sober, he also probably wouldn’t have lunged for Jamie, taking him out at the waist and forcing him to collapse onto his own mattress. “Said, LAY DOWN,” he repeated, scrambling to straddle the man’s hips, and trying to grab at his wrists. “Enough!”

The word was paired with a death glare to Thomas, who may not have been pinned under him, but only because it was physically impossible for Griffin to sedate both of them at once. “You’re both douchebags!”

“I called you,” he muttered after a moment, still slap-fighting James for submission. “You were busy.” It was completely lost on the brunette, of course, that his current position wasn’t terribly different from the way they’d stumbled upon Jamie a few minutes before.

THOMAS ::

Despite the urge to cover his throbbing nose from any more of the crossfire, Thomas stood back from the other two men, eyes dark and irritable. Thomas was the reliable one - was the man you called when you needed someone to get you out of a mess, or pick you up at the bar on a Friday night at 9pm because you were so drunk you couldn't see straight. He was the ultimate provider, the best friend any guy could ask for. Clearly, Griffin appreciated that more than Jamie.

"Am I interrupting?" He blinked his eyelashes prettily, words mocking as they left his lips. His shirt was the only one left on, and it was...incredibly sticky at that point, if he was being honest. With a grimace, he plucked at the collar, hissing when his hand came away sore. He would be bruised and battered, and rough the following day - no amount of cover-up was going to suffice to hide the giant bowling ball of a bruise on his head, or the massive swelling of his nose. He'd talk like a fucking Lollipop Guild member for a week at this rate.

"I went to pick up this clown while you were out here blowing some guy." Thomas stuck his chin up, defiant despite the angry look sent to him by Griffin, who was oddly being the sensible one (not that Thomas would ever admit that. To anyone. Ever.)

JAMIE ::

James was honestly taken aback by Griffin's sudden lunge in his general direction. He was stupidly effective for being drunk, and Jamie wanted to be mad about it, but he was suddenly distracted by how Griffin was just on top of him like this. He blamed that on the surprise of it all as well. Griffin never would have gotten him into this position if James had seem him coming.

Ignoring the insult, he frowned when Griffin mentioned that he had called him. "Well, what the hell." He could have sworn he would have noticed a phone call from his best friend, but apparently hookup's dick game was too strong. Usually he was much more reliable than this. "Shut the fuck up, Thomas," he said, and the only reason that Griffin was still on top of him was because he didn't want to hurt him on accident. Again.

His face hurt and he wanted to either drink or take some ibuprofen or both and clean up the fucking mess that was still in the corner of his room. "Christ, get off me, Griffin." Why was he the one being restrained instead of Thomas? Thomas started this shit. He gave a considering expression before going for Griffin's ticklish spot instead, hoping the sudden distraction would give him some leeway to get out from under him and back toward his original target who couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his own damn life. "I didn't blow him, I was on fucking top!"

GRIFFIN ::

If he’d been able to read the other man’s thoughts, he probably would have chuckled, the low one that was particularly disarming when it was paired with his trademark sideways smirk. Sure, they’d blame it on the “surprise” and not the decade of running tackle drills before and after school, five days a week. Drunk as he was, muscle memory was a hell of a thing.

That, and puking up a stomach full of bourbon.

“Wash up, look like a fuckin’ horror movie,” Griffin ordered in Thomas’ general direction, not moving a muscle, not just yet. If the two of them were going to lunge at each other again, he could sit right there all night - or at least until the hazy, spinny kind of sleep that went along with being this sloshed came to claim him. “You, jus’ stop talking,” he muttered, quieter considering that James was only so far away from him. “Nobody cares ‘fya sucked a dick, Pearson.”

When he eventually slid from the younger man’s waist, Griffin moaned in relief at the feel of a mattress beneath him, bribing his body to move with the promise that if he stretched out just the slightest bit, he’d finally be able to close his eyes. “Why’s yer bed so nice?”

THOMAS ::

A flash of something dark flickered over Thomas' face, his struggle with authority desperately trying to rear its head. With a calming breath, he tried to pull that little voice inside of his head that sounded like his dumb, quack sister that reminded him about breathing exercises and adrenaline. After counting to 10, Thomas gingerly pulled his collared shirt over his head, the polo wet with moisture and a stink of dried blood. Scrunching his nose, he dropped the offending garment into Jamie's hamper, on top of clothes probably covered in some dude's jizz. "Looks like you have a roommate tonight," He pointed out helpfully, making his way toward the bathroom.

He was back a quick moment later, having procured the small cleaning caddy from under the bathroom sink, including the hand-held spot cleaner. It was uncanny, how many times they'd had to clean up 90% alcohol-vomit, and Thomas hated that he'd grown so used to it after 15-odd years of knowing these morons. "Take your shoes off, you heathen," Thomas spit at Griffin without much effort behind it, focused instead on cleaning the puddle out of the corner of Jamie's room.

After scrubbing for a few odd minutes, and one glare in Griffin's direction later, Thomas picked himself back up, knees aching with the effort of the movement. He was getting old. He stored the cleaning products back in the cabinet and found himself leaning against the doorframe when he re-entered the room. "What food do you want, Griff?" Thomas asked, placated and quiet after the fall-out of so much drama. Getting his face bashed in was a reset button, apparently. Annoying, but effective. "I'm not dealing with the whininess when you're hung over tomorrow."

JAMIE ::

"He started it," James muttered in response when Griffin told him to stop talking. It was juvenile, but he couldn't help it. This whole thing could have been avoided about six ways to Sunday. If Griffin hadn't gotten drunk, if Thomas hadn't immediately started raging about it, if he hadn't brought someone home in the first place. It was pretty clear that they were all partially to blame for this shit show, but the petty side of him wanted to be the one that ended it.

He still had no idea if Thomas was going to tell Kate, but that seemed like a problem for future Jamie. For now, he just wanted to wallow in his failed hookup. He figured that since he hadn't even gotten the chance to get off from this one, there wasn't really a need to do any sort of confessional. Jamie scoffed at Griffin's next words. God cared if he sucked a dick, which also, he hadn't. "Don't tell anyone." These words were directed at both of them, quiet, yet deeply meaningful. He didn't know what he'd do if people found out. Hell, his two best friends had just found out, and he wasn't exactly sure what to do about it.

Jamie had no idea where Thomas was going when he headed out of his room, and a part of him wondered if he was going to make that phone call. Anxiety prickled all over his body, and he had to remind himself to breathe. A moment before he was going to get up and follow him, Thomas came back with the cleaning supplies. A begrudging "Thanks," rolled off his lips as he sat up in bed to address Thomas' next words. Rolling onto his knees, he took off one shoe and tossed it out into the hallway, landing with a thunk. The other came next, tossed in the same general direction. "PB&J?" he asked Griffin, knowing that it'd be best to go for something easier on the stomach.

GRIFFIN ::

This was how the world worked for Griffin Rollins, the way it had always worked. He did what he wanted to do, it made a fucking mess, he smiled and fumbled his way into some unintentional wit, and it all ended up being taken care of ... usually by one of the two bloodied men who were currently milling around the room, no doubt accomplishing just that. He didn’t open his eyes to check. That was the way he preferred it, really; if he never fully noticed just how much other people did to save his ass time after time, he never fully needed to thank them.

“Nachooooos,” he moaned at the mention of food, knowing full well he’d likely pass out before anything that required delivery would arrive at the apartment. As it was, he was already slipping in and out of consciousness. The bed smelled like sweat and Jamie’s shampoo, the sortakinda expensive stuff he got frustrated at Griffin borrowing when his own had run out. It still came from the drug store, but from the higher shelf; not the 3-in-1 body wash bullshit that Griffin smeared through his own hair.

“Go shower,” he mumbled to both and neither of them.

THOMAS ::

With narrowed eyes, Thomas turned to retreat into the kitchen, slapping together a few hastily made sandwiches (which were still entirely too neat, cut diagonally into two separate pieces) and brought them back to the bedroom, just in time for Griffin to begin bossing him around again. "What, this isn't doing anything for you?" Thomas pointed to the bloody mess on his face, chest, and arms.

Rolling his eyes, Thomas passed Jamie the plate, their hands brushing as he released the paper to him. Always something unbreakable, when Griffin was involved. Thomas would have loved to frequently use real plates and cups, but when a bumbling, drunk idiot was constantly falling around your apartment, it was better to have something that couldn't accidentally kill you. "If anyone needs a shower here, it's you. The landlady lives 5 miles away and I'm sure she can smell you from here."

Despite his deflections, Thomas really did need a shower. His blood had become caked and sticky on his skin, drying into flakes that made him want to scratch at his skin like a mangy dog. "Just...eat." With a tired sigh, Thomas ran a bruised hand through his hair, closing his eyes for just a moment. How did he always end up back here?

:: END ::

#001 #gjt

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emotionally-imbruised · 5 years

Text

Sink or Swim

In which Harry and Y/N work together as lifeguards.

A/N: here’s (a little late but) day 17 for my bby @always-jackedup’s 25 days of summer. Make sure to go check out the pieces by all the other authors if you want some fun summer things to read. Also wow, this turned out longer than I was expecting; you all can blame Sarah.

Word Count: 15.8k

As much as she wanted this summer to be one for the record books, just like it had been in recent years, Y/N didn’t have too high of expectations. It sucked a lot, but finally after three years of being away, she was spending her first summer back home in California and to say she wasn’t all that excited about it at all, would have been an understatement.

Once she graduated high school, Y/N stayed in San Jose with her family for a year and a half. She didn’t go to university because frankly, she didn’t know what she wanted to do in life so instead, she worked her ass off while taking a few online classes to save up some money and go see the world. Which is precisely what she did.

She spent the last three years traveling through different countries, gaining new experiences, meeting the greatest people, eating the best food, and working wherever she could to keep doing so. It was an incredible experience, and she’d do it all again if she could, but it did make her feel very alone times, so at the beginning of the year, Y/N started longing for something more permanent. Somewhere she could stay that would allow her to decide what it was she wanted to do, whether that included school or not. After considering all of her options, she decided on heading back to California with plans of moving to LA at the beginning of September and embark on some new journeys in the land of opportunity... Even though the thought of doing that terrified her.

In preparation for her move, Y/N applied to various summer jobs as a way to save up more money until she was able to find a stable job in Los Angeles; and much to her surprise, a lot of those places were very interested in hiring her as a seasonal employee. Amongst those places expressing interest in her was Oceanside Resort and Spa on the outskirts of Bodega Bay. This fancy, membership-only resort that had been in the middle of hiring their summer staff, needed someone to fill one of the open lifeguard positions. The resort provided all training that was required, as well as staff accommodations for the entire summer (which was needed, seeing how far it was from home) and after considering all of her other options, was the one Y/N ultimately decided on. She did all her preliminary training in the weeks leading up to the beginning weeks of summer, and before she knew it, her family was dropping her off at the shuttle bus station in San Francisco to start her new adventure.

Despite its name, Oceanside was not actually located beside the ocean. Yes it was close, and the coast was only a few short minutes away, but Y/N found it somewhat ironic and couldn’t help but chuckle at the pictures of the resort printed in her welcome pamphlet; none of which included snaps of the Pacific. She knew it was stupid to be amused by such a little thing, but as she read the overly extra and dramatic explanation of how great this place was, her laughing increased and wouldn’t stop as she continued reading it over.

Maybe it was because of how she thought whoever decided to make Oceanside’s slogan “A Shell Of A Good Time” should never be allowed to make a slogan ever again, or maybe it was due to the lack of sleep she had the night before. But regardless, Y/N’s laughing didn’t subside and started gaining attention from others on the bus with her.

“Are you done?” A voice hissed from the seat in front of her, causing Y/N to snap her gaze up to be met with Aimee, her best friend from high school, staring back at her. The two of them had kept in touch for the years Y/N was away and decided to apply for jobs together. Lucky for them, Aimee was hired at Oceanside too but as a bartender at the poolside cabana rather than being a lifeguard like Y/N. The two of them applied to be roommates in the cabin that would act as their home for the summer, and as if their luck couldn’t have gotten any better already, they were approved for that too. “We’re not even there yet, and you’re already going to start annoying the shit out of our coworkers.”

“Sorry,” Y/N replied sheepishly, lowering herself into her seat more as her chuckles reduced to snickering. “Ok, but for real... have you read this thing?”

“Yes, I have,” Aimee stated as she reached over to snatch the pamphlet from her best friends grasp, turning back around so Y/N wouldn’t see the broad grin plastered on her face as well. “And yes I know it all sounds ridiculous but, a job is a job.”

“Got that right. And this place seems to have its perks, won’t be the worst job ever.”

Aimee just nodded before turning around to face Y/N again and tossing the now crumpled up pamphlet between the ugly blue patterned seats at her head. “Exactly, and we’ll be together. It’ll be a summer to remember.”

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N grumbled with a shrug, not paying any attention to the skeptical look Aimee was giving her as she tried to uncrumple the piece of paper on her lap. “I’m not here to have fun, you know? Sure if it happens, great, but I really need this job Aims… or LA just won’t be happening. I need to do good here and not mess it up.”

“I know,” Aimee responded and waited for her friend to make eye contact again. “But you can’t be having that mindset, ok? Obviously, work hard and everything, but also let yourself have fun, Y/N. We’re adults now and won’t have many more chances to do things like this. May as well make it count.”

There was no point in arguing against Aimee’s statement because Y/N knew she was right. Although her main focus of the summer was to make as much money as she could and save it, that thought alone made her fear about wasting away one of her favorite times of the year; which was the last thing she wanted to do. She thought about how maybe she could put herself out there a little bit and see what would happen, but for the time being, she decided on just biting down on her lip and nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right, you don’t gotta tell me.”

“Oh, whatever,” Y/N scoffed as Aimee laughed and faced forward again, preparing to put her headphones on and just zone out for the remainder of the drive. However, before she had the chance to do that in peace, Y/N leaned forward and lowered her voice just so that only Aimee could hear. “Hey Aims, do you know what we’re going to have?”

“Don’t say it.”

“A shell of a good time,” Y/N blurted out, trying so hard to keep a straight face. The audible groan that left Aimee’s mouth was enough to feed on Y/N’s ego and caused her to fall into another laughing fit. This went on for a few minutes, and as she was starting to recollect herself, Y/N noticed how Aimee was now slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and standing up, all while giving her a pointed glare. “Come on, it was funny.”

“Sick of you already,” she mumbled in response before moving to sit in the seats a few rows behind Y/N in silence and remaining there for the rest of the trip.

Once they arrived at Oceanside, Y/N and Aimee were given a quick, half-assed tour of the resort before being shown where they’d be living for the summer. There was no need for them to get an entire lay of the land just yet seeing as their first day of work was still a few days away, and both girls were rather thankful they’d have the weekend off before diving right in.

Y/N took this time to really let it all sink in and appreciate how she actually got to call this place home for the next two and a half months. There was no doubting that Oceanside was absolutely stunning and genuinely seemed liked its own little private oasis. It had a very serene atmosphere and didn’t seem to be lacking in anything whatsoever. However, Y/N knew it may take her a little while to get used to everything.

The resort was huge. When the bus made way up the long winding driveway that starts at Oceanside’s gated entrance, the first thing that could be seen was the clubhouse; the place Y/N figured she’d probably be spending most of her time while clocked in for work when she wasn’t at the pool. The large cream-colored building was sat on top of a hill and stood out amongst the greenery surrounding it. Y/N was told this place was what made every other part of the resort accessible, and was the first stop on hers and Aimee’s little tour.

Once inside the sliding doors of the clubhouse, they found themselves standing in the middle of the lobby; the area that acted as the place everyone needed to go to first regardless of who they were. It was where the resort guests would check-in for their stay as well as to book any extra classes/activities they wanted to do, spa services, tee time on the golf course, or to simply get any information they needed. It was also where all the staff would have any meetings after hours and go to punch in and out for each of their shifts, seeing as it was connected to basically everything. The spa and gym were to the left of the front desk, the dining room where all the guests would eat their meals was to the right and had the kitchen attached to it at the back. The kitchen itself was unnecessarily large and staffed many people, but its size made sense seeing as there were apparently a lot of guests that came here throughout the summer.

To the back of the kitchen was a door that led to another large room, one that none of the guests had access to. It was not as fancy as the rest of the clubhouse by any means and was actually kind of run down, but to Y/N, it had the most character. To put it simply, it was a mess hall for all of the staff working at the resort. There were two long wooden tables with benches that took up most of the space in the room, matching very well with the old, cracked wooden flooring and beams that crossed above on the high ceiling. Sat at the tables were her new co-workers talking, laughing, gossiping, and eating with one another. Many of them sent friendly smiles Y/N’s way, but the odd person eyed her and Aimee up a little bit -- clearly aware of how the newbies have arrived.

Once Y/N and Aimee made it through the mess hall, they exited through a side door that entered out onto a beautiful stone and marble courtyard. There was a large fountain in the middle of it with four flower gardens that take up each corner of the space. Nothing covered it from above which left it to be filled entirely with natural light and just gave Y/N the best feeling. It was her favorite spot by far.

Just past the courtyard was the pool, and it exceeded all expectations as well. It too was quite large, having a shallow section for kids and a deeper end for adults only. There was little potted plants and succulents around the entire area and no shortage of lounge chairs whatsoever. One of the first things Y/N noticed was how two lifeguards were monitoring the pool as opposed to only one. There was one sitting on the lifeguard stand that was positioned on top of the natural-looking stone waterfall on the other side of the pool, while the additional lifeguard patrolled on the same side she was standing; watching for any out of the ordinary behavior with a rescue buoy in hand. She was quick in noting how her shifts would more than likely be with someone else and that alone gave her some peace of mind. After scoping out the rest of the pool area, the two girls made way to the poolside bar where Aimee would be working and alas, their tour ended.

Upon arrival to Oceanside, the first person, Y/N and Aimee, met was Mr. Andrew Slack, the manager of the resort and well, their boss. He was kind enough and was the one to give them the tour, however, he came across as a very busy man, and just as he was finishing showing them around, he got a phone call and had to leave the girls to fend for themselves. Andrew briefly explained where they had to go to get to where the staff housing was located, before muttering a quick goodbye and heading back towards the clubhouse and answered the phone. After a moment of silently watching him go, Y/N and Aimee glanced at each other and shrugged before heading down the path he pointed out to them so they could finally put their bags down and get settled in.

“Are you sure we’re even going the right way?” Aimee groaned from a few feet behind Y/N as they came to a fork in the road, looking at the various paths they could venture down. They were maybe two minutes from the clubhouse, the sounds of people chatting and splashing around in the pool could still be heard, but she was exhausted.

“Not particularly,” Y/N responded, letting one of her duffle bags fall to the ground as she approached a tall wooden sign that listed various places they could get to and which path they’d need to take, one of them labeled staff cabins. She looked down the trail to her left, and sure enough, more laughter and chatter could be heard from what she assumed was others moving in as well. “This way, I think.“

The two girls walked down the path Y/N suggested, and soon enough, they came into a large clearing where fifteen different cabins resided. Five of the cottages were a bit smaller than the others, which only allowed two people to stay in them rather than the four that would remain in any of the others. According to one of the people on the bus there, only returning staff were able to apply for the two-person cabins, but both Y/N and Aimee were already aware that they’d be sharing a living space with two other girls, so that fact didn’t really phase them. Not every staff member needed accommodations because many were locals to the area, but nonetheless, Y/N was thankful that she did indeed have a place to stay.

Aimee inched ahead in search of their cabin and didn’t realize Y/N had fallen back a bit while she was taking in their surroundings. With a small smirk forming on her lips, Aimee decided to snap her best friend out of the little daze she was in. “Watch out for that root.”

“What root-,” Y/N started and snapped her gaze to Aimee, before staggering a bit as she took a step forward and tripped over a thick tree root that was sticking up from the ground. She quickly regained her balance and played it off as if nothing had happened, earning a loud chuckle from Aimee. “Ah, that root.”

“And they want you to be a lifeguard? Those poor people.”

Y/N just glared at her friend instead of responding as they continued forward in search of cabin 4.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their new summer home and just upon the sight of the slightly rundown looking cabin, Aimee was full-on sprinting up the steps in hopes she could claim the first bed. Y/N trudged after her, slowly making her way up the rickety wooden steps, but halting when a loud crack and some shouting sounded from behind her.

“Oi! Now, look what you’ve done.”

She raised her eyebrow skeptically at the sudden commotion before gradually spinning around on her heel to see what the hell was going on. On the other side of the trail, at the cabin directly across from hers, Y/N observed as two boys stood outside of their tiny lodge that was almost identical to her own. One of them had his back to her, and she couldn’t help but stare as his body rippled with laughter, letting her eyes roam more than she intended. He wore a pair of dark pants and a simple white t-shirt. Multiple tattoos littered his left arm, while his right arm almost seemed bare. She couldn’t see much else but noticed how he had a pair of black sunglasses on is head as a way to keep his mob of brown, shaggy, curls away from his face. There was no way of knowing how long she stood there gawking at the man, but as soon as the guy he was with spoke up, she was brought back to reality.

“You know, the least you could do is help me.”

It was then Y/N noticed that the other boy was standing with one foot stuck in the staircase. Somehow one of the wooden planks snapped and resulted in him falling through the step. Y/N immediately thought about all the first aid training she’d endured just to be ready for this job and found herself dropping all of her things on the porch before rushing down the stairs and over to the two men.

She didn’t waste any time in brushing past the guy in the white shirt to get to his friend, because truthfully, he could have gotten really hurt and the other guy was not being any help. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Oh, just dandy,” the guy stuck in the stairs muttered before placing a hand on the railing and using it to keep himself balanced as he stepped out from the broken wood and up onto the deck. “Thanks for your concern, though. Nice to know someone’s watching out for me when my so-called friend isn’t.”

“Oh, get off it,” the other man spoke up from behind Y/N again, sparking her interest with how the words came from his mouth in with a distinctly British accent. Slowly, she turned around to actually get a look at them, and when she did, she felt as if the air had been knocked right out of her chest.

As soon as she locked eye contact with the man, his familiar green eyes widened in surprise as they both gawked at each other in complete and utter shock. He recognized her too.

“You-.”

“I know you!” His voice boomed and caused a blush to immediately burn across her cheeks. “We went to high school together, yeah?”

The man in front of her was none other than Harry Styles. A kind British lad who was two grades ahead of Y/N, all through high school. They had some mutual friends, and Y/N was aware of how Harry had moved from a small town in Cheshire to San Jose during her freshman year. The two were never really that close, but they knew of each other and had met a few times in passing, which left Y/N to be more than surprised at the fact that he’d even recognize her.

“It’s Y/N, innit?”

“Uh yeah,” she replied and shook her head free of any lurking thoughts, fully aware of how he’s aged very nicely over the years. “It is. And you’re Harry, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Pretty sure there’s other Harry’s in the world, dumbass,” the other guy spoke up from behind her again, causing Y/N to chuckle.

“You’re not funny, mate,” Harry snapped before making eye contact with Y/N and letting out a huff. “That there is my irrelevant and incompetent roommate, Nick. Guess he’s m’friend and all too, but that’s just a minor detail.”

“The greatest detail actually, seeing as I’m the only one that’ll put up with you.”

“Ok, anyway,” Harry cut his friend off with a glare, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched Y/N giggling at their antics. “What brings you to Oceanside?”

“I needed a summer job,” Y/N explained with a shrug, looking between the two boys as they nodded in understanding. “I went away for a while and am now trying to make ends meet. What better way to do that than being a lifeguard at some fancy resort? Man, I feel like I’m in High School Musical 2 just being here.”

“It gives me more Dirty Dancing vibes, but I can see why’d you think that,” Harry responded with a warm smile, causing a swarm of butterflies to form in the pit of Y/N’s stomach.

“Yeah we’re basically living in a cliche summer romance movie, aren’t we?” Nick piped up before nodding towards Harry. “But hey, at least now you know who the new lifeguard is.”

“You’re a lifeguard too?” Y/N asked surprised, feeling caught off guard by just how small the world was seeming to be.

“Yeah, s’my what, third summer working here now? That sounds about right.”

“Oh, wow,” Y/N replied, making no attempt in masking her shock. “Must be an alright job.”

“Pays the bills at least,” he told her with a shrug. “It’s a good way to make money when you’re not in school for the summer, m’assuming that’s what you’re doing .”

“Kind of. I uh, I didn’t go to university once I graduated high school and traveled instead. Reality caught up with me eventually, and now I need to work so I can start figuring what I’m going to do with my life. I’m moving to LA in September, so hopefully, I’ll figure something out there.”

“Weird, so is Harry,” Nick added.

“Really?”

“I am,” Harry answered. “Got an internship with a record label there, gonna try to amount to something I guess.”

Y/N watched as his gaze fell from hers to the ground, where he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. He didn’t seem too confident talking about this specific subject, so Y/N took it as a hint to move on from it. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do great. Anyways, my roommate is probably wondering where I went, I uh, I’ll see you guys around. And maybe you should get someone to fix that step before someone actually does get hurt.”

The three of them laughed before Y/N slowly started backing away and headed towards her cabin. Nick waved her goodbye, but Harry didn’t say anything. It made her wonder if she had said something wrong, but regardless, she shook her head and made her way up the steps to gather her bags again and head inside; utterly oblivious to how Harry’s eyes didn’t leave her once as he watched her walk away.

The next four weeks went by rather quickly, and Y/N was already having much more fun than she had anticipated. In her short time working at Oceanside, she had already managed to develop quite a few friends from the people she’d met, and it made the whole experience better, just like Aimee had said. Her and Aimee both made fast friends with their two other roommates Dana and Maya, who were twin sisters but couldn’t be more different from one another. Dana worked as a waitress in the dining hall for the guests, while Maya worked out on the golf course providing beginner lessons to those who signed up for them. The two sisters butt heads a lot, so it was smart to not have them working together in Y/N’s opinion, but she really did enjoy spending time with both of them nonetheless.

Another person she clicked with really well, was Nick. When he wasn’t busy sassing Harry or organizing activities and events for the guests to do during their stay, Nick was Y/N’s go-to person (other than Aimee) for anything really. He was her helping hand when she needed it, and the best person to rant or gossip to when something had irked her. She was the same type of friend to him, and it didn’t take her long to realize he’d be one of the people she knew she’d miss the most come to the end of summer.

Every guest Y/N had encountered who stayed at the resort, was very kind, and treated her with respect. She was quick in figuring out who the regular families were, the ones that came to Oceanside every summer as their vacation and got the lowdown on how long each of them had been doing so from Mr. Slack (or Mr. Whack as Harry and Nick would call him behind his back.) Amongst those families was the Huntington family. Mr. Huntington, a successful business mogul, had brought his family to and donated a lot of money to this specific resort for about eight years now, or at least that was what Mrs. Huntington had told Y/N. They were a very reserved family, but actually very friendly. Mrs. Huntington was a regular to the Tuesday morning water workout classes Y/N would teach and was a joy to be around while her husband would poke fun of her from where he lounged on a chair nearby. They had a son, Tyler, who was assumedly Y/N’s age and had many friends from other families that stayed there as well. When he wasn’t with those friends, he was spending time with his family or striking up a conversation with Y/N when she had some downtime during her shifts.

Last, and certainly not least, the final and the arguably most significant relationship she had developed so far, was with Harry. The two of them had almost exact work schedules, which naturally led to them spending a lot of time together. He was the one to show her the ropes of lifeguarding in general, as well as what to do in certain situations and was always there to have her back if needed. When both working, Y/N usually sat on the lifeguard stand while Harry patrolled the edge of the pool. They’d tease each other from a distance, sticking their tongues out at each other when no one was looking, or mouthing the words “don’t slip” when they switched their spots so Y/N could teach some of her workout classes.

The first thing that really warmed them up to one another was actually on Y/N’s first day. She had cut through the kitchen to get to the lobby to punch in on time and almost ran directly into Harry. She hadn’t seen him since she moved in those few short days before, but the way he just stared at her and started chuckling struck something within her.

“Do you have a problem?” She asked and grew slightly aggravated when his laughing increased. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said firmly and tried to regain his composure, but failed miserably. “It’s just that I didn’t know management was going for matching uniforms this year.”

Y/N scowled at him before slowly glancing down at her outfit to see what he was talking about, only to become even more confused. Her uniform was simple enough, just a red full-piece bathing suit that had to be paired with white shorts and if she so decided, the white terry cloth sweater she was given with Oceanside’s emblem on it. She paired the outfit with the metal whistle she had to wear, some sunglasses to keep her hair out of her face, and a pair of black Adidas slides because there was no way she was walking around the pool without proper footwear.

To her, there was nothing wrong with the outfit, but once she was finished taking in her own appearance, Y/N moved her gaze to Harry and finally realized what he was going on about. He too was wearing a pair of red swim trunks, with a kind of tight looking white tank top that also had the emblem stitched into it as well. His outfit was almost identical to her own, but what got her the most was how he too had a pair of sunglasses pushing his mob of curls back and a matching pair of Adidas sandals. The two of them looked ridiculous standing side by side.

“Oh god,” Y/N groaned, which only caused Harry to burst out into laughter again. She was about to make another comment, but before she could, her phone started buzzing with the reminder that her shift started in five minutes. “Crap, we should go.”

“Lead the way,” Harry responded and dramatically bowed as a way to tell her to go first. She shook her head and proceeded, only making it a few steps before he spoke up again. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Hate to break it to you, love, but I wear it better.”

Y/N scoffed and froze, turning to send him a glare but couldn’t help but laugh too as he just chuckled again and rushed forward to avoid her wrath. Their shifts together after that were just the same harmless and fun routine, and it really didn’t take Y/N long to realize just how much she enjoyed being around Harry, and that feeling only grew as the weeks went on.

One Friday afternoon, when Y/N and Harry were both finishing up their shift together by folding towels in the clubhouse laundry room so the lifeguards on the evening shift would have less to do, Harry decided to throw Y/N off guard with a question.

It was one he’d meant to ask her all week but couldn’t figure out how to bring it up in conversation. As he stood there watching her fold each towel with as much focus and precision as the last, he knew their shift was coming to an end soon and how he may not get to ask her if he didn’t do it right then. So, with a deep breath and a subtle clearing of his throat, he asked her.

“Are you going to the staff party tonight?”

“Hmm?” She replied, surprised, having to take a second to process the unexpected question. “Like the one that is thrown in the mess hall every weekend?”

“That’d be the one.”

“I uh, I don’t know,” she murmured and set down the last towel she had just finished folding. “Aimee, Dana, and Maya have been telling me I need to go to at least one. Apparently, they’re fun.”

“They are. S’nice hanging out with everyone in a non-work setting,” he explained, but avoided eye contact; suddenly feeling as if he might get turned down even though he has not built up enough courage to actually ask her out just yet. They’d become rather close, and there was this certain spark he felt whenever she was around, but again, was too chicken to actually do anything about.

“Are you going’?”

This time it was her question that caught him off guard because realistically he was expecting her to simply just say no. “Yeah I am, promised Nick I’d go with him.”

“Oh well if Nick is going then maybe I’ll consider it,” Y/N teased, unsure if this was his attempted way in saying he’d like her to go or not -- completely oblivious to just how bad he wanted her to be there with how well he masked it. He just chuckled in response as Y/N felt a sudden wave awkwardness consume the comfortable feeling she usually had whenever he was around. She glanced at the clock to see their shift had ended and decided to use that as an excuse to remove herself from the situation. “Looks like we’re done for the day. Maybe I’ll see you around this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah, see yeh Y/N.”

And with that, he watched her leave yet again.

After her conversation with Harry, it didn’t take much for Y/N’s roommates to convince her into going to the part, even going to the extent of her letting them pick out her outfit for the night. They decided on a simple black dress that Dana owned, one that just so happened to hug Y/N’s body in all the right places. The outfit was paired with a few of Aimee’s accessories while Maya styled her hair and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d assume those three were plotting something with how much effort they put into her appearance that night.

Once they were all dressed up, the four girls left the cabin and made way to the mess hall.

Y/N didn’t really know what to expect from this party, but upon stepping foot into the hall, she couldn’t help but let her eyes widen in surprise as she took in the scene around her. The two long wooden tables that regularly took up most of the space in the room were pushed against the walls and made a makeshift space that acted like a dancefloor. Couples danced together to the music playing, grinding and holding onto each other like a bunch of horny teenagers, while others exited from the kitchen with drinks in hand. It all looked like a scene from a movie, and Y/N had to shake her head at it all. Harry was right, this place really was much more like Dirty Dancing than High School Musical.

As if on cue, a familiar voice sounded from her right, and Y/N was soon faced to face with Nick. He wasted no time engulfing her in a tight hug before he moved on to greet the other girls. Y/N said hi to the people that had come over with Nick before moving her gaze to meet with an oh so familiar pair of stunning green eyes and smiling.

Harry had a wide grin on his face as he stepped towards her and pulled her into his chest for a quick hug as well. The gesture surprised Y/N, but she also found a sense of genuine warmth in his embrace before slowly moving away to look up at him again.

“You made it!” He exclaimed and just couldn’t stop smiling at the fact of her being there.

The way he grinned at Y/N made the butterflies in her stomach swarm, and she found herself having to break eye contact with him before her blush got too noticeable. She took that time to give him a once over and couldn’t keep herself from feeling some type of way. He was wearing a simple grey buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, shamelessly displaying his arm tattoos that just so happened to capture Y/N’s attention more than usual as the strobe lights danced across them. His hair was messy, but a good kind of messy Y/N decided; the entire look was just very, Harry and that thought alone made her smile.

“You look great by the way,” his voice snapped Y/N from her trance as looked around to see all of her friends have scattered and it was just her and Harry now.

“Thanks,” she continued to blush. “You look good too.”

A moment of awkward silence washed over them as neither really knew what else to say. Harry knew he could just end the conversation right there, but that wasn’t really something he wanted to do, so he began racking his brain for ideas on how to keep the conversation going. As if someone had heard him trying to think up something, the song that was playing changed and the upbeat intro of Right Back by Khalid started booming from the nearby speakers; causing him to grin all over again.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Me?” Y/N squeaked and glanced around because surely he wasn’t talking to her.

“Yes, you,” he chuckled. “I mean, I could ask Nick but who knows where he went off to.”

Y/N bit down on her bottom lip nervously, her heart fluttering at what felt like a million miles a second as she slowly nodded her head. “I’d like that.”

If it wasn’t for the few drinks she downed with her friends while getting ready for this thing, Y/N was sure she would not have been in this situation whatsoever. But alas, the alcohol gave her the liquid courage she needed to let Harry grab her hand and lead her out to the middle of the dancefloor. When they came to a small clearing, Harry dramatically spun around to face her again, causing her to laugh out loud as he dorkily pointed at her with finger guns. He had a goofy smirk plastered on his mouth as he started moving to the music and Y/N soon found herself swaying her hips to the beat too. She glanced at the people around her dancing very close to one another for this particular song and suddenly felt very out of place. They were entirely surrounded by couples.

As if sensing Y/N’s sudden discomfort at their setting, Harry mindlessly moved towards her until there were only a few inches between them. She looked up at him with wide eyes, but with him merely just being there, she didn’t feel as anxious. The two of them remained like that for a moment, lost in each other before Harry went to wrap his right arm around her waist; but stopped himself before he could.

“Uh, would you mind if I-?”

Y/N smiled at how he became so flustered, and simply could not find it in her to deny him. “You don’t have to ask.”

Harry didn’t know what to expect Y/N’s answer to be, but a massive wave of relief washed over him as he returned her smile and continued his movements. He snaked his arms around her waist just as the chorus started playing again and pulled her close, before shifting to rest his hands on her waist as they started moving to the music together.

Hesitantly, Y/N placed her hands on his chest before slowly moving them up to wrap around the back of his neck. Harry loved witnessing her gradually become more comfortable with what they were doing because with how much time he’d spent with her so far this summer, he knew this whole thing wasn’t exactly her scene. She seemed to actually be having fun, though. Throughout the song, she had already let him in more than she had over the last month, looking so content and at peace. It was at that moment Harry realized how he was going to do whatever he could in his power to make her feel that way as often as possible.

Y/N liked being this close to Harry more than she wanted to admit. There was something about him that drew her in and made her want to stay. Sure she considered him to be a friend and all already, but tonight felt different, a good different. She would never dance or act like this with just anybody, but with Harry, it felt natural.

Harry slowly leaned his forehead against Y/N’s as she started twisting the smalls curls at the nape of his neck and felt himself fall into a state of contentment as well. They danced with each other for the remainder of the song, along with the next two before Harry slowly started moving away.

A look of confusion washed over Y/N’s features, but it soon faded as Harry linked his hand with hers and started leading them away from the dancefloor. “Follow me.”

Y/N had no idea where he was taking her, but she didn’t question it either as she let him guide them towards the side door that led them out into the courtyard. There was no one else out there, which was a pleasant change from the crowded area they were just in.

As they walked hand in hand together, the two remained silent, and Y/N tried to keep her breathing steady as Harry gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and lead them towards the fountain. They started off talking about the night’s festivities along with not really knowing where all of their friends had gone off to, however, that casual conversation quickly turned deep when they started asking questions about each other, but in a very gradual, comfortable way that surprised both of them.

Y/N was the first to open up. She wasn’t really one to layout her entire life story just for someone to judge it and point out where things could have been changed, but with Harry, she didn’t feel that way once. He expressed genuine interest in what she was saying and soon enough, she was telling him everything. She explained why she thought she needed to leave California for a while after high school and her experiences abroad. With that, she talked about how she felt that time could significantly change people and as much as it sucks to admit, there’s nothing anyone can really do about it either. Her primary example being how Aimee is the only person she kept in contact with from high school because she had grown apart from everyone else. Y/N even went on to explain how she wasn’t able to form very close bonds with people she met during her travels, due to her fear of letting people in just enough so that she’s comfortable before leaving her high and dry.

Harry hung on to her every word, providing a comforting squeeze to her hand when she’d bring up things that were a bit tougher to talk about, and just nodding as she went on to let her know that he really did want to be there, listening to what she had to say. Once she was done, he could tell how relieved she was by simply being able to share all of that with someone she trusted enough to know the things that made her, her. Harry knew how much Y/N appreciated him for letting her vent, and in return, let him know that she would do the same for him if he ever wanted to, and so he did.

The two talked for hours, although it only seemed like mere minutes to them. Once Harry finished his back story of everything that had happened since he graduated high school, he expressed his want to return to England soon and that his money from this job was going to allow him to do so. He went off about how excited he was for his move to LA and his dreams of making it big in the music industry one day, but for now, Harry was rather content with where he was (specifically in that moment with Y/N).

As the night went on, it was Y/N that noticed the party had died down, seeing as no music could be heard anymore and that it was getting rather late.

Y/N was fully aware of how neither she or Harry worked the next day but still felt a little anxious at the thought of her friends giving her an earful for not having a clue as to where she had gone or who she was with. Luckily for her, the conversation she was having with Harry was much more lighthearted than it was before and she didn’t feel as bad for interrupting it.

“Hey, H?” She spoke up, smiling inwardly to herself at the little nickname she’d mindlessly decided to call him. “I think everyone’s gone back to the cabins, think we should go too?”

There was no doubting that Harry didn’t want the night to end just yet and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought itself. So, being the quick thinker he was, he glanced around at their surroundings and tried to think of a way to keep her around; a mischievous grin dancing on his lips when his gaze falls on the pool and an idea sprang to his mind. “We could do that, or we could do something completely different. Something fun.”

“Oh, well, what did you have in mind?”

“Something that I’m going to do regardless of if you join or not, even though I’d much prefer if you did,” he smirked and observed as her eyebrows started to furrow.

“Harry…”

A tiny, heartfelt laugh left Harry’s mouth at the small pout that was forming on her lips as she spoke. She had no idea what he was planning, and it made him that much more excited to mess with her a little bit. He watched as she bit down on her lip in anticipation, and waited for him to say something and after a moment of keeping her on her toes, he leaned forward to whisper lowly in her ear.

“I’m going to go swimming.”

With that, Harry stood up from his spot on the edge of the fountain and jogged his way over to the pool. As much as Harry wished he could see the look of disapproval, he knew Y/N would be looking at him with, he didn’t stop to glance back at her. Instead, he approached the pool gate and glanced around to make sure no security guards were out on patrol, before quietly lifting the latch to unlock it and slowly pushing it open.

Once inside the gate, he walked over to one of the poolside lounge chairs and set his phone and wallet on it before unashamedly starting to strip down to his boxers. Just as he tossed his shirt on the chair and moved to begin unbuttoning his pants, he heard the pool gate creak open again and was already smiling at what was about to come.

“Are you insane?” Y/N’s voice hissed as she followed after him scowling. “Harry, you’re going to get us in so much trouble.”

“Can’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he shrugged as he stepped out of his pants and set them on the chair too. Goosebumps raised on his torso as the cold night air came in contact with his newly exposed skin, but he ignored it as he turned around to face Y/N again. He could tell she was cold by the way she had her arms tightly wrapped her body as a breeze wisped her hair around, and decided to use that factor to his advantage. “The pool is heated.”

“I know it’s heated, I work here too, you know.”

“I do,” he responded smugly and tilted his head to the side. “Well, are you coming in or are you too chicken?”

There was a glint in her eyes that he recognized to be the competitive streak in her coming out. He’s managed to see this side of her a handful of times while he was pressing her buttons at work and seeing her look back at him that way made him think that he may have her convinced, however, the glint faltered as she nervously looked around to see if anyone was nearby. “I don’t know H-.”

Harry could tell that deep down she wanted to join him, she really did. However, he also knew damn well that doing anything that could possibly jeopardize her job here cause Y/N a lot of anxiety. But maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to crack through that wall she keeps putting up that prevents her from doing something fun and reckless for once.

Slowly, Harry walked towards her with a mission. As soon as he was close enough to do so, he reached out and linked their hands together; giving that little bit of reassurance she wanted so badly.

“I’m not going to make you do it if you don’t want to love, but if for whatever reason something did happen, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” He paused and watched as her features slowly softened, her hand squeezing his a little tighter all at the same time. “Do you trust me?”

“You already know I do,” she whispered and earned herself a small smile from Harry as she let go of his hand and stepped towards the pool. This time it was Y/N’s turn to shamelessly strip down to her underwear with her back turned to Harry.

Harry was surprised by her sudden burst of confidence as she casually kicked her shoes off and pulled the dress she was wearing up over her head -- letting it fall to the ground in such a simple, yet unknowingly sexy way that had Harry growing more frustrated with each passing second.

Y/N kept her back to him, not wanting him to see just how badly she was blushing. Once she was left in only her mismatched grey/black cotton bra and undies, she stepped towards the edge of the pool and waited for Harry. She smiled to herself as soon as he was standing beside her again and pondered her movements for a minute before making the executive decision to try and push Harry into the pool.

However, her plan backfired, seeing as she did not account for just how buff Harry was and that the likelihood of him actually falling in was slim to none. To make matters worse, Y/N stumbled slightly when she tried pushing him to which Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist so that she wouldn’t fall in instead. Once she was steady, Y/N finally looked up to Harry and internally groaned.

“You just tried to push me in!” He exclaimed dramatically.

“And stupid me thought it’d actually work,” Y/N grumbled as she tried to squirm out of Harry’s grasp. She almost broke free, but before she knew it, Harry was pulling her back against his chest and began tickling her at her sides. She burst into laughter as she began squirming even more and tried to push him away. “H-Harry, stop!”

“You’re wrong if you thought I was letting you get away with that. I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You’ll get over it,” she replied in a huff as she continued trying to escape Harry’s hold. This continued for another minute as Harry slowly but surely moved them back towards the pool’s edge, and Y/N’s wriggling intensified. She knew what he was about to do and without thinking, blurted out the first thing that came to mind to prevent him from doing so. “No, don’t! I can’t swim!”

Harry’s movements halted as soon as those words left her mouth, leaving Y/N to cover her mouth to stifle another laugh. She hadn’t considered how ridiculous her statement was until after she said it, and couldn’t help but laugh at how far from the truth it actually was. Harry didn’t move his hands from her waist, and although she really didn’t want to turn to face him, she eventually did and prepared for his reaction.

He stayed silent for a split second before narrowing her eyes and tightening his grip on her waist. “You’re so full of shit.”

Before she could respond again, Harry was lifting her up and jumping into the pool with her in his hold; finally putting the entire argument to rest. As soon as she was surrounded by water, Y/N swam away from Harry and used her feet to push off the bottom of the pool so that she could get back up to the surface and catch her breath.

Harry resurfaced shortly after and they both broke into another laughing fit. The two of them stayed there, treading water for a few minutes before Harry decided to splash Y/N out of nowhere, causing her to gasp dramatically.

She splashed him back but gave up the fight when he returned the gesture with a much larger wave that crashed right into her face. “Ok, I guess I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” he replied sassily and treaded and little closer to her. They watched each other for a minute before Harry started lowering the bottom half of his head into the water, just enough that only his eyes were still above the water. Y/N watched him curiously and couldn't help but roll her eyes when he exhaled deeply out of his mouth so that a series of bubbles would rise to the surface and pop around him as he kept eye contact with Y/N.

“God, you are such a child!” She squealed and started swimming away from the shallow end of the pool.

“You love it,” he before shaking his wet, matted curls and swimming after her.

The next half an hour or so is spent with Y/N and Harry goofing off together, and really just having the time of their lives. They had a race to see who could swim from one end of the pool to the other and back the fastest, to which Harry won only by a little bit. However, he soon lost his title when Y/N challenged him to see who could remain in and underwater handstand the longest without falling over or having to swim up for air.

Neither of them had a care in the world, but that quickly changed when the sound of jingling keys and heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance but were undoubtedly getting closer to the pool area. Y/N froze in place, and her face went white, the previous panic she had before of getting caught returning and causing her to be on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Harry, what do we do?!” She asked in a hushed tone, knowing that if they were to just jump out of the pool and make a run for it, they would most definitely get caught. “Y-y-you said-.”

“I know Y/N,” Harry hissed as he stood up and looked towards the courtyard, only to see the beam of a flashlight coming their way. “Ok, ok, I need you to do as I say and not argue with me, alright?”

Y/N nodded frantically but kept her mouth shut as she let Harry gently push her against the side of the pool. His hands never left her body, and to be honest, it’d stress her out even more if he weren’t there. Harry was keeping her calm. She observed as he intently watched the direction the noises of the person approaching came from, not being able to keep her eyes from the way the elegant butterfly and sparrows tattooed on his stomach and chest moved with each breath. Part of her wanted to reach out and trach along with the ink, but she knew now wasn’t the time and kept her hands to herself while she waited for Harry to tell her what to do next.

“Ok, when I say, I want you to go under the water as quietly as you can and swim behind the waterfall. Stay low when you come back up, I don’t think security will see you that way.” His plan was simple enough and actually seemed as though it could work, so with a silent nod, Y/N got in position and waited for him to give her the ok to go. “Alright…. Now.”

Y/N did as Harry said and quietly went back under the water. She kicked off the wall and smoothly glided under the water and didn’t come back up until she reached the wall she knew was behind the waterfall and beneath where her lifeguard chair was resting up top. Once she came up for air, she pressed her back against the wall to remain unseen and waited patiently for Harry.

Before Y/N could really start getting worried, she was able to make out Harry’s figure swimming beneath the waterfall just as she watched a flashlight beam over the part of the pool that she and Harry had only been. She unknowingly pressed her back harder to the wall and held her breath, keeping her eyes closed as she waited for someone to demand that they come out from the waterfall.

A few agonizing moments go by as Y/N prepared for the worst, but the worst never happens. She peeked one eye open just as Harry disappeared under the water again and swam back out into the regular part of the pool. A portion of her wanted to wait for his confirmation, but when it took him a bit longer than she was expecting for him to come back, she knew the coast must’ve been clear; so she followed after him.

Sure enough, when she resurfaced again, there was no security standing at the edge of the pool, waiting to give them shit; but instead, it was just Harry standing with his back to her, with his muscles tense. Cautiously, she approached him.

“We should get going,” he finally spoke up when there was no longer too much of a space between them. He turned around to face Y/N, but couldn’t seem to actually look at her. “Tha’ was closer than I’d like it to be, and we may not have time before he’s back.”

“H-.”

“And you probably don’t want anything to do with me after putting you in a stressful situation like that, this is all my fault,” he continued to ramble as she kept approaching him.

“Harry…”

“God, I swear I didn’t think anyone would actually come by but-.” This time it was Y/N who cut Harry off as she made one final step towards him and placed a hand behind his neck. She pulled him towards her at the same time she stood up onto her tippy toes and waited for the sparks she knew would go off once their lips came in contact with one another.

To say it felt like magic would have been an understatement because how it felt for Y/N and Harry to be at that moment, after spending such a great night together was simply indescribable. They both really liked the feeling of being there, together, making out, even though it was in the pool they both were lifeguards for, and soon found themselves getting lost in the kiss.

Harry quickly pulled her closer to him, wanting to have as little space between them as possible as his hands tangled into her hair so that the kiss could deepen. Y/N reacted by moaning slightly into his mouth and parting her lips more so that she could allow him more access.

They continued making out as Harry placed his hands under Y/N’s thighs so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. They kept going at it when Y/N’s back gently collided with the pool wall again, and she placed her hands on either side of his face just so that she could keep him near. The only thing that was going to make them break away from one another was going to be the need for air, and even that took a few minutes to happen, but eventually, it did.

The two of them slowly pulled away from each other, lips swollen, and panting for air as Y/N glanced up at Harry and smiled lightly. “You were putting words into my mouth.”

“Clearly I need to do that more often,” he chuckled before leaning down and catching her lips in another quick, yet sweet, kiss. Once he was done, he leaned back away from her again, his thumbs twiddling with the material of her underwear as they made no indication of wanting to move from one another. Eventually, it was Harry that broke the silence again. “Think we should get out here?”

“Not the worst idea I don't think,” Y/N responded with a nod.

The two of them untangled themselves from one another and climbed out of the pool before gathering their things and heading back to the cabins.

Y/N stayed with Harry that night and into the early morning of the next day. She woke up tangled in his bedsheets alone but had no need to worry seeing as she could hear him humming along to a tune from the shower in the washroom nearby. A loud yawn left her mouth as she stretched and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and finally took in her surroundings.

Harry’s cabin was smaller than Y/N’s but was much more spacious because it was only him and Nick that stayed there. And luckily for Y/N, Nick was nowhere to be found. She did, however, have this nagging thought of how he could literally burst through the door and see her so obviously trying to keep her naked body covered beneath the sheets at any given moment. There was not a single part of her that wanted to deal with that, so she sat up in the bed and looked out the window for any sign of him coming before booking it into the washroom so that she could join Harry in the shower.

The two of them spent the entire day together. It was ridiculously convenient that Nick, Aimee, Dana, and Maya all had work today because they were able to postpone any of their friends bugging them. Seeing as Y/N only had the outfit she wore last night, she gave Harry her key so that he could run over to her empty cabin and grab some fresh clothes. Much to her dismay, he came back with only a pair of terrycloth shorts that belonged to Maya and some clean underwear (but no bra).

“Harry, do you expect me to walk around topless all day?” Y/N asked and quirked an eyebrow at him. It was evident that he didn’t intentionally forget to grab her a top by the way his eyes widened slightly at her question, but with Harry being Harry, he played it off with ease.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea…”

“Harry.”

“Kidding,” he groaned as he rolled off the bed again and made way to his dresser so that he could give her a shirt to wear. “But not really. Here.”

Y/N caught the shirt Harry tossed towards her with ease and quickly threw it on, knowing she’d gone without a top for long enough. After that, Harry climbed onto the bed again and stretched himself across the bed next to her. He was hesitant in doing so, but after getting stiff from leaning on his elbow for a few minutes, he laid down flat with his head resting softly on Y/N’s lap as she stayed sat up and leaned against the wall.

The two of them talked for hours on end, again. Not once getting bored of each other's company and loving hearing what they each had to say, Y/N started to think about how long it had been since she was this comfortable with someone. They talked about everything from their favorite foods, to their what genre of a story they liked best after Y/N had eyed up the stack of books that were on Harry’s bedside table. Harry started going off, and Y/N mindlessly pushed her hand through his curls as he reached over to grab one of them so that he could tell her some of his favorite lines in it.

As the late afternoon crept around, Harry proposed that they actually leave the cabin and go out to do something, to which Y/N agreed. So, they gathered up the laundry hamper they had tossed Harry’s dirty bedding into that morning and made way to the clubhouse to start washing them while they went off and did something else. As they made way to the laundry room, they had to come to a stop when someone started calling out after them. Sure enough, it was Aimee standing behind them with a bemused and knowing look. She didn’t give them a hard time though seeing as she was just finishing her break and needed to get back to work, but Y/N knew she would get an earful when she got home that night.

Once they loaded up one of the washing machines and convinced one of the older ladies working in the laundry room, folding up clean bedsheets for the guests, to put move their wash over to a dryer so that they wouldn’t have to come back as soon; they embarked on a little journey. After sending a quick text to Maya a quick text to make sure it was alright, Y/N led Harry to one of the many golf carts that weren’t being used to take on their own little excursion.

They drove around the resort’s perimeter, taking the whole place in as if they were the ones staying there rather than being employees. After they finished doing that, Y/N drove them back to the clubhouse and tried thinking of something else to do before Harry suggested they go on the hiking trails the resort had.

The two of them walked back down the path that led towards the cabins and took a different turn that led them down a winding trail and eventually to the base of a large hill. Other people were nearby putting the multiple trail options to good use, but Harry and Y/N couldn’t decide which one they wanted to go on. They settled on the longest trail, the one that took them up the hill to a supposed lookout spot that was there.

It took them roughly forty-five minutes to reach the top, mainly because Harry kept dramatically pausing, saying he needed a break although Y/N was totally aware of it being a facade so that she’d stay near him and not keep going too far ahead... but she didn’t mind as they continued going.

Once they reached the end of the path, Y/N didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but she definitely wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away

The top of the hill was a large clearing with the most incredible view. There was no one else up there so she didn’t waste any time walking around the entire area so she could take it all in. When she looked down the hill to the east, she had an incredible aerial view of the whole resort. The massive golf course seemed to go on forever, disappearing in the distance behind some trees and smaller hills, and everything else seemed so much smaller. She could see the entirety of the clubhouse letting her eyes move to the pool and then over to the trails behind it as well as all the big fancy lodges the resort guests rented out during their stay. Her gaze fell on the row of cabins, watching as her co-workers walked home after their shifts had come to an end; even seeing who she thought was Dana trudging her way up the steps of their shared cabin, and Nick making his way towards his and Harry’s.

Y/N then moved to look to the west, and that was when her jaw dropped open in awe. In the distance, she could see the coastline. Where the greenery from the trees ended, the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean started and seemed to go on forever; causing her to become quickly enraptured by its beauty. So this was why Oceanside was a fitting name.

“S’pretty, innit?” Harry’s voice asked from behind her. When she didn’t respond, he moved towards her so that they were standing side by side. It wasn’t his first time seeing the view, which Y/N knew, but what she didn’t realize was how with the way the sun was just beginning to set, everything stood out. The pink and purple sky surrounding them and the way the breeze wisped her hair around made it seem as though she was the center of the most beautiful painting. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not that he’d want to anyway, and wanted to this exact image engraved into his memory forever. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” She asked and glanced over at him briefly before looking back to the ocean. “The view? Yes, it’s incredible.”

“Not just the view,” Harry whispered to himself as he watched her. Silence fell over them for a few minutes after that, and neither made a move to change that. However, as the sun kept getting lower in the sky, Harry knew that this moment couldn’t last forever. “Think we should head back down there, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“Oh, yeah, not a bad idea. The laundry is probably done by now too.”

It didn’t take them as long to get down the hill as it was going up, so soon enough they were back at the clubhouse gathering Harry’s bedding and heading back to the cabins to call it a night.

On their way there, they heard laughter and chatter coming from people walking down a different path. Neither Harry or Y/N thought anything of it as they started down the trail towards the cabins until someone was calling after Y/N.

“Hey Y/N, wait up!”

Slowly, both Y/N and Harry turned around to see Tyler Huntington approaching them with one of his friends.

“Hi Tyler, how’s it going?” Y/N greeted as Harry remained silent; not noticing the way he glared at the other boy.

“Good,” Tyler responded. “Just finished up a round of golf. Didn’t see you at the pool today.”

“Yeah, Harry and I have this weekend off so you won’t see me around there tomorrow either.”

“I see,” he replied and moved his gaze to Harry, sending him somewhat of a dirty look. “Styles. Well anyways Y/N, seeing as you have the day off tomorrow, Chris here’s parents went to San Francisco for the weekend, so a bunch of us are going to party in his family’s lodge. You should come.”

His invitation surprised her a little bit because frankly not once had she given the impression that she wanted to hang out with Tyler or his obnoxious friends apart from being around them during her shift. There was a fine line between employee and guest’s relationships being professional, and she did not want to cross it, so she politely turned him down.

“Thank you for the offer, but no thanks. I’m actually so exhausted and am ready to call it a night.”

“I see,” Tyler responded disappointedly. “Maybe another time then?”

“Maybe,” Y/N responded with a small nod and looked up to Harry. “Well, I guess we’ll be going then, have a good night guys.”

“Night,” Tyler and Chris responded in unison.

Y/N and Harry turned and started walking towards the cabin’s again, and Tyler watched with gritted teeth as Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close. Feeling the jealousy within him reach an all-time high as she leaned into Harry’s touch as they continued walking and eventually disappeared out of sight.

The next couple of weeks or so went on like usual. Y/N and Harry spent most of it together at work as usual but also spent a lot of evenings together as well. While at work together, the two of them would go on as they usually would -- teasing each other and making snarky comments, but this time around, there was a lot more subtle flirting. They always kept it professional around guests, but when they had any time that was just the two of them, they were all over each other.

One evening, after Y/N and Harry finished their shift together, they helped the kitchen staff set up tables in the dining room for a fancy gala dinner that was being put on for the resort guests. They stuck out like sore thumbs working alongside the servers who were dressed in their fancy uniforms in preparation for the dinner, to which their co-workers teased them about, but expressed appreciation for the help nonetheless.

Once they were done helping wherever they could, Dana told them her, and the rest of the team should be alright and that Y/N and Harry should get out of there before the guests started showing up. As they were headed towards the lobby, Harry snuck up behind Y/N and covered his hand over her mouth so that no one would hear her. A muffled yelp left her mouth as Harry pulled her behind one of the large planters and pillar so that he could gently push her up against the wall; a seductive grin tugging at his lips as he did so.

“Been waiting to have you to myself all day,” Harry said as he moved his hand from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. Y/N moaned against his mouth and responded by pulling him even closer than he already was so that the kiss would deepen. They stood there making out for at least a solid two minutes before footsteps and voices could be heard coming towards them.

Y/N and Harry quickly broke away from each other and tried to straighten out their appearances before stepping out from behind the pillar, coming face to face with the Huntington family. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington greeted the pair happily while Tyler stayed quiet; silently fuming as he took in Y/N’s swollen lips and Harry’s disheveled curls.

“Aren’t you kids done for the day? Get out of here already,” Mr. Huntington teased as he patted Harry on the back.

“We are,” Harry told him. “Just thought we’d help with setting everything up for you guys. It looks great in there, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.”

“Anyways we should get going,” Y/N spoke up with a smile and looked to each member of the family, pausing when she locked eye contact with Mrs. Huntington. “They’ve got your favorite wine in there Carol, it should be a good night.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The older woman exclaimed and clapped her hands together, earning a groan from her husband. “You two have a good night as well, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“We won’t,” Y/N and Harry answered together before nodding goodbye and walking away from them. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington smiled and watched them go for a second before continuing on down the hallway, but Tyler stood there watching, no glaring at the two of them until they disappeared around the corner.

A few days later, when Y/N was in Harry’s cabin watching a movie with him and Nick, her phone buzzed with a new notification. She reached over to grab her phone, Harry shifting so that she’d have easier access to his bedside table, but not moving his arm from where it was wrapped lazily around her waist. As soon as she had the device, Y/N returned to her spot, nestled up against Harry and turned the screen on only to see she had an email from Mr. Slack. Assuming it was necessary, she unlocked her phone and opened the email; her eyebrows furrowing as she read through it.

“Everything alright?” Harry asked after a moment of seeing her just stare at the phone screen.

“Yeah, I guess,” she started. “It’s just that Mr. Slack changed my work schedule completely.”

“For next week?” Nick questioned and sat up, curiously from his bed across the room.

“No… for the rest of the summer.”

This caught Harry’s attention as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as well. “Mind if I see?”

“Not at all,” Y/N responded and handed him the phone.

Harry took the device and scrolled through the entire email, noting the changes in her schedule. “Our shifts are completely opposite now.”

“Really? All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them,” he replied and handed the phone back. “We don’t have any more days off together.”

“So they’re splitting us up and pairing us with different lifeguards for the next three weeks?” Y/N questioned, and Harry nodded. “Why now all of a sudden?”

“Whack caught on to you two messing around with each other, huh?” Nick asked and wriggled his eyebrows.

“I don’t think it was him actually,” Harry shrugged in response. “Think it was the Huntington kid.”

“Tyler?” Y/N asked and leaned onto her elbow so she could get a better look at Harry as he nodded. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how pissed he gets whenever he sees us together. He’s jealous Y/N. Probably pulled some strings with management so that he could attempt to move in on you before the end of summer.”

His tone became rather hostile, and Y/N quickly decided that she did not like it one bit and started moving away from him. “I have noticed actually, but it’s wrong to assume someone could be so malicious. We can’t prove that he actually did do that, maybe Slack just wanted to switch up the lifeguard rotation.”

“Three weeks before the summer ends? Y/N, do you hear yourself right now? All the hints and clues of Tyler wanting to mess with us are right in front of you, but you’re too damn gullible and naive to open your eyes and see!”

Harry’s outburst surprised Y/N, and she made no effort to hide it. “That was uncalled for, Harry.”

“But true,” he finished and looked away, not noticing the hurt that flashed through her eyes.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was scrambling to get out of Harry’s grasp to get as far away from him as she possibly could. “You know what? I’m just gonna go.”

“What, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean that rudely,” Harry pleaded as he stood up too, realizing that he’d really upset her.

“How did you mean to say that I’m too gullible and naive for my own good in a nice way, Harry?” She snapped and brought her hand up to her chest when she saw him reaching out for it. “I’m sorry that I tend to see the good in people and not make rash assumptions about them just because I feel like it! You know, I thought you weren’t one to do that too actually, but I guess I was wrong.”

Harry couldn’t find it in himself to say anything else because just seeing how much his words had hurt her, crippled him. During one of their many talks, she told him how growing up she was told that her niceness would get her in trouble one day, that she was too accepting of everyone and it really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N viewed her kindness towards others as a weakness because of that, and although it was one of her traits that Harry admired most, he still managed to make her feel bad about it. To make her feel weak.

Y/N gave him a second to respond, and although she was greatly disappointed when he didn’t, she just swallowed her pride and walked towards the door. Muttering a quick goodbye to Nick, she swung the screen door open and walked out, letting it slam shut as she rushed down the stairs and over to her cabin before the tears started streaming down her face.

There was an invisible weight resting on Harry’s chest as he watched her go, feeling absolutely terrible as Nick walked up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You just royally fucked up my friend.”

A week went by, but Y/N and Harry had yet to speak to one another. She was upset, which he knew, but fucked, he missed her. He just wanted the chance to apologize, but even then, that opportunity never came because they never actually saw each other. The only time he’d get to see her was in passing when one of their shifts came to an end, and the other was there to take over.

On the nights he knew he didn’t work the next day, Harry would stay up late reading on his front porch, coming to a stop only when he’d hear someone dragging their feet on the gravel and watched as they trudged their way past his cabin on route to their own. One of those nights, over a week since he and Y/N, had last spoken outside of work, he heard two sets of footsteps walking down the path, so he set the book down to see if it was anyone he knew. As soon as he looked up, her gaze fell onto Y/N, but she wasn’t alone.

She had just finished the night shift at the pool and was yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she nodded to what Tyler was going on about besides her, clearly uninterested. When Y/N and Tyler reached the space between her and Harry’s cabins, she looked at Harry tiredly and sent him the smallest smile. Y/N then turned to Tyler and thanked him for walking her home and turned him down again for hanging out before saying goodbye and going up to her cabin stairs. Just as she reached the door, she paused and looked over to Harry, nodding towards him. “Night, Harry.”

And with that, she was gone.

The days after that, Harry observed how Tyler followed Y/N around like a lost puppy and started to become annoyed because he’d still not gotten the chance to apologize. One night, as they were going into the last week and a half of summer, Harry decided he was done sulking and knew that he needed to talk to Y/N because he’d gotten to the point where he just felt empty without her.

He first went over to her cabin to see if she was there. Knocking on the door, he felt his heart rate increase with each passing second until the door swung open to reveal Aimee.

“Get off my porch,” she spat. Harry took a deep breath, feeling even more nervous than before because if looks could kill, he’d be dead by now.

“I-is Y/N home?” He stammered and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

She continued glaring at him, exhaling deeply through her nose to express just how much him being there made her fume. “You’re right fucked if you think I’m letting you talk to her after what you did.”

“Aimee I-.”

“You messed up Harry, massively.” Aimee finished for him. “Do you know how hard it is for that girl to open up? To feel such a significant bond with someone that she can genuinely be herself without fear of being judged for it. You somehow managed to crack through that wall. She let you in, and you threw it in her face. So, like I said before, get the fuck off my porch.”

“I know I messed up ok?” Harry argued before she could slam the door shut, his voice cracking slightly. “I know that I gained her trust, became someone she was comfortable with, and then fucked everything up. I know you think I’m a terrible human being because of what I said, and honestly, I can agree with you. What I said was uncalled for and completely unnecessary, and I know that I’d take it all back if I could. I was jealous, fuck, I was jealous of Tyler Huntington because he kept moving in on her and to be honest, I was afraid. Not because she ever seemed interested, but because I knew that he could give her the world if she let him and that I can’t. I’m a lifeguard for fuck's sake, not the son of some rich businessman. I don’t know where I’m going from here, or what LA will hold, but I’d really like for her to be there for it, and I hate myself for possibly messing that up.”

Once his rant came to an end, and he finally decided to look up again, he half expected for Aimee to just proceed with slamming the door in his face but was actually surprised to see that he’d gained an audience. Both Dana and Maya were now standing behind Aimee shaking their heads.

“God, boys, they really are stupid,” Maya groaned.

“Y/N doesn’t care about any of that you dingus,” Dana stated.

“Honestly though,” Aimee agreed, her features softening. “Glad you can see how good of thing you almost lost there, Harry, because as much as I want to say you don’t deserve to even associate with my best friend… You’re an alright dude. She’s on the night shift at the pool, you may be able to catch her before she finishes up and comes home for the night. Just don’t mess it up again.”

“I won’t, thank you,” Harry replied as he turned around and bolted down the stairs and started off in the direction of the pool. He checked the time on his phone and sped up a little more as he knew Y/N would be getting ready to leave soon.

Y/N finished gathering the last of the pool towels left by guests and put them in the hamper for housekeeping to deal with tomorrow. She hated the night shift. Although the pool closed at 10pm, she was alone from 8pm on, but the pool was always dead by then and the time would just drag. She knew her shift was almost over, so she wandered back to the lifeguard stand and grabbed her belongings so she could go punch out.

Before she could get too far though, the pool gate creaked open, and someone walked in. She turned around to tell the person that the pool had closed, but stopped herself when she saw Tyler standing there. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” he responded and walked towards her. “Was wondering if you wanted some company for the walk home again.”

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m meeting up with Nick so I’ll be fine,” she told him honestly.

“I see,” he replied and looked down to his feet. “Well, I know that you have the day off tomorrow. Maybe I want to do something… with me?”

Y/N could tell he was a little nervous asking her this, but there was something he said that she was not expecting to hear. “How did you know I had tomorrow off?”

“I uh, you told me, remember?” Tyler stammered, internally cursing himself.

“No, I didn’t,” Y/N trailed off. “So how did you actually know?”

“Ok, you caught me,” he tried to play it off. “I asked Mr. Slack to tell me because I really wanted to ask you out, seeing as you turned me down all summer.”

“I turned you down because I’m not interested, Tyler.”

As the conversation started going down, Harry was nearing the pool gate. He heard what Y/N had just said, but stopped so that he wouldn’t interfere.

Y/N watched Tyler, watched as his eyes snapped to hers once the words left her mouth, and saw them darken. Y/N held her ground, though. She didn’t falter or let him intimidate her regardless of how part of her wanted too because deep down, she already knew this was going to tie into what she and Harry had fought about.

“See that’s the thing I don’t get,” Tyler started, chuckling slightly. “Why wouldn’t you be interested? I’ve got money, looks, charm-.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she cut him off, and Harry had to cover his mouth so that he didn’t laugh out loud.

“Right. Not like you’d notice it anyways with how busy you’ve been off fucking Styles every chance you got. Quite the slut move, Y/N.”

Harry was ready to throw hands at that point and was about to start going off, but Y/N beat him to it.

“You do not get to say that about me, or anyone for that matter,” she fumed. “And frankly, it is not your concern, or anyone else’s who I sleep with, so I’ll sum this up real quick. I like Harry, he is a kind and decent being, something you wouldn’t know, and is someone I will gladly admit to falling for and will continue falling for because he is actually worth my time.”

“Whatever-.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet. Harry is someone who holds more character in his pinky finger than you do in your entire body, and is also someone who would never, in a million years, pay money to try and interfere with someone’s life.” Tyler fell silent at that. “I know you paid Slack to change my work schedule around.”

“I, well, I-.”

“You aren’t worth it,” she finished and had no intention of speaking another word to him. Tyler stood there shocked as she brushed past him and started walking towards the gate.

“I can have you fired, you know?” He finally spoke up, noticing that Harry was standing nearby. “Both of you.”

“No, you can’t,” Y/N laughed, sending a quick glance to Harry before turning back around. “Slack already told me he wants both me and Harry to come back next summer with a pay raise. I think he was saying something about how he didn’t want to get rid of the guest's two favorite lifeguards, including your parents. So maybe I’ll see you next summer, Tyler, but for now, fuck you.”

The man was left speechless and couldn’t find any other words to say as he watched her walk out the gate and towards Harry.

Once the gate shut behind her, Y/N turned to face Harry and tried so hard to not just lunge herself towards him. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” Harry said, and Y/N started stepping towards him.

“All of it?”

“Yes, all of it.”

“Ok, good,” she answered just as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in so she could crush her lips against his. The kiss was sweet but turned hungry as each of them realized how much they’d been craving to be near one another again. However, it didn’t last long until Y/N was pulling away to look back up at Harry. “I missed you, H.”

“God, and I missed you,” he replied, softly pecking her lips once again. “And I am so so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being such a prick, and I don’t expect you to forgive me any time soon, but-.”

“I already have,” Y/N told him and moved to wrap her arms around his waist in a hug. “Besides, Nick told me how sulky you were because I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Of course he did,” Harry groaned and pulled away from the hug. He leaned down to kiss her once again before leaning his forehead against hers. “Let’s go home.”

Y/N’s last week at Oceanside was spent packing, working her final shifts, and saying goodbye to all the friends she had made throughout the summer. On her last day there, she gave her cabin one final look over to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and let out a sad sigh. Dana and Maya had left the day before, so it was just her in Aimee left. Once she was sure she had everything, she went outside to where Aimee and Nick were waiting, and the three of them started walking towards the clubhouse.

“You know you’re both going to have to Facetime me at least once a week, right?” Nick asked as they walked around to where the different buses were waiting to drive them home.

“I’d expect nothing less,” Y/N answered and let out a heavy breath once they reached their destination.

The three of them pulled each other into a group hug and muttered their teary goodbye’s. Eventually, Nick had to pull away so that he could board his bus and made sure to wave like crazy as it began pulling away.

“I can’t believe you’re going to LA already, I feel like I just got you back,” Aimee started as she loaded her luggage onto the bottom of the bus.

“I know,” Y/N told her as she helped with the large suitcase. “The summer flew by. Sorry that I'm sending you on the bus back to San Jose alone.”

“I’ll be fine, you’ll just have to make it up to me with drinks when I come to visit. Which will be very soon might I add.”

They both chuckled before slowly frowning, tears stinging at their eyes. In a split second, they were engulfing each other into a tight hug and trying not to cry.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Aims.”

“I’m going to miss you more,” Aimee replied and pulled away to wipe at the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so proud of you Y/N. You’re going out there and doing whatever it is you want to do, and I got to see you grow as a person so much this summer. God, I feel like a proud mom.”

“It’s because of you, you know,” Y/N responded as she reached up to wipe away some of her friend's tears. “If it weren’t for you sassing me, I would have been a hermit all summer. You gave me that extra push I didn’t know I needed.”

“Well, in that case, then I’m happy that I did.”

Y/N pulled her best friend in for another hug, staying like that until the bus driver called out for final boarding. “I guess that’s your cue to leave.”

“I guess it is,” Aimee sniffled as she moved from Y/N’s embrace and started walking to the bus. “You better call me the minute you get to LA.”

“You know I will,” Y/N answered with a smile.

Once Aimee was sat on the bus, the doors closed and she waved at Y/N as it drove away. Y/N didn’t leave her spot nor stop waving until the bus disappeared over the hill, and she let out another sigh. She then turned around and was met by her special someone standing there looking back at her with his goofy grin.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he lifted his right arm so that he could rest it on Y/N’s shoulders as they walked towards his car, waiting in the parking lot.

“More than ready,” Y/N answered before moving away from him so that she could climb into the passenger side; her luggage already packed in the trunk thanks to Harry going out of his way to put it there as she said goodbye to Aimee.

“Perfect.”

With one final glance around at the resort that had been their home for the last two and a half months, Y/N and Harry began their long drive to Los Angeles and their future, together.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles x reader

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chucklegigglechortlesnort · 4 years

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Nekoma Manager Headcanons (Continuation)

The adorable @brakpomyslunalogin slid into my dms to request this and basically read my mind, so thanks love for giving me the excuse to do this 😘

I really, really enjoyed reading your Nekoma Manager Headcanons and unexpectally felt very inspired to another idea (maby part 2 or simple appendix). What do you say about writing SFW and NSFW hdc with Kuroo when his s/o is Nekoma Manager? If its not a problem, I would like it to be a fluff but with a bit of love teasing and friendly sarcasm.

TW: drinking, mild sexual harassment, suggested consensual sex, and a little violence

[Pairing: Kuroo x Reader] [NSFW-ish]

- Although the two of you kept in contact following his graduation, as the years passed you gradually talked less and less

-Kuroo was focusing more and more on college while you were spending your time managing the team and studying for exams, so neither of you really noticed or were too bothered by it.

- It wasn’t until your first year of college that the two of you came in contact again.

- You had just finished moving in when your roommate suggested that you go out for drinks as a celebration and to familiarize yourself with the area and to make some new friends

- It also happened that certain returning students were going out to celebrate the upcoming year of crippling stress and sleep deprivation.

- So with all the commotion the last thing you expected was to see your former team captain getting turnt with a few other familiar faces

- it’s not long before one of those familiar faces a. k. a. Bokuto Koutarou sees you and his face lights up in surprise

- “_________-CHAN?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

- More than a few peoples heads whip in his direction as he bounds over to you in a drunken manner and scoops you up in a bear hug, lifting you a full foot off the damn ground.

- You get a suspicious look from your roommate and quickly mouth “i’ll explain later” before Bokuto’s setting you down and barraging you with all sorts of questions and telling you how grown up you look like a proud mother would.

- Kurro soon finds his way over to the two of you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders like no time had passed at all

- “Well lookie who we have here, little manager-chan all grown up.”

- You can tell he’s a little tipsy, but over all he’s pretty much the same incredibly attractive dork you remember from high school - with a notable difference in how he carried himself. His disheveled hair hadn’t changed in the slightest, nor had his snarky grin whenever he was feeling particularly proud of some smart ass remark he had made.

- However on the other hand?? Kuroo wasn’t the only one who had changed over the years, and he certainly noticed a big difference from the reserved ______ he had known in high school. You were more confident and much better at biting back when he threw a teasing remark your way, when previously you’d usually pout and chuck the nearest object (usually a volley ball) at his face to get him to shut up. (it never worked)

- One thing that hadn’t changed between the two of you though was the sense of admiration you had for eachother. If anything it was stronger now than it had been years ago.

- as time goes on you start to run into each other more and more around campus, which seems impossible because he’s a chem major and you’re a sports medicine major and both of those are pretty time consuming majors.

- Every time you see each other you end up hanging out for the rest of the day/night and fooling around on campus and getting coffee or going to the nearest convenience store for snacks.

- You start spending more and more time together on weekends, purposely this time, and often go out drinking together as Kuroo is someone you trust to look out for you. Bokuto tags a long pretty much all the time unless he’s too hungover from previous nights to go out again.

- you guys have the most existential conversations

- You think that Kuroo just likes to keep you up at night when he’s studying for a test or something so he won’t be alone.

- eventually you end up asking if he just wants you to come over to keep him company so he can bother you in person.

- he’s more than delighted to take you up on this offer.

- he walks over to pick you up though because he doesn’t want you walking late at night by yourself on a big city campus. This is also an excuse to pick up snacks and more coffee on the way.

- since he’s an upper class-men he lives in a campus apartment rather than a dorm with bokuto and two other roommates.

- Bokuto loves that you visit so often, especially when you come baring snacks he can steal.

- You’ve fallen asleep during these visits often enough that kuroo has a blow up mattress already prepared ahead of time that’s stashed under his bed for convenience. He lets you have the bed, you usually fall asleep first anyways.

- However he forgot you were there once and ended up falling asleep on the bed next to you. You were absolutely mortified when you woke up face to chest with Kuroo, trying with no avail to escape before he woke up.

- and he was surprisingly nonchalant about it?? at least that’s what he projected. In reality he was so damn flustered.

- Bokuto totally walked in on u guys to ask Kuroo to go on a run with him only to stumble upon the two of you tangled up on Kuroo’s bed.

- Kuroo definitely got teased for it

- It’s not long before you both realize that there’s more than just a mutual appreciation for each other.

(A/N: This next part is a scenario because that’s just how this happened)

You had decided to hit the town together one weekend to relax after midterms Bokuto staying back having had a little too much to drink the night before. from the moment you had gotten to the bar though, Kuroo was all too aware of the creep who had his eyes on you the moment you walked through the door.

Was the asshole blind or something?? Did he not see Kuroo walk in with you??

Kuroo had made a point of hovering a little too close to you that night, slinging an arm around your shoulders or waist, and guiding you around by the small of your back to direct you away from the annoyingly persistent dipshit who was following you around

He had only left your side for a moment to get you a drink and the creep had slid into the seat next to you - Kuroo’s seat - and placed a very unwanted hand on your thigh, leaning uncomfortably close to whisper all too inappropriate words into your ear. Kuroo was unbelievably proud when you suddenly shoved him away, but the jerk kept trying. He calmly sauntered up to the two of you, shoving himself between you and the sleaze ball, flashing you a devilish smile.

“Hey babe, I got that drink you wanted.”

“Hey dickhead, do you mind?” The disgruntled drunkard glared up at Kuroo, who towered over him from his seat.

”Huh? Sorry man, didn’t see you there. Do you mind getting up though? I’d like to sit next to my girlfriend.”

“I don’t see your name on the chair, so how about you just fuck off.”

Kuroo just shrugs and turns to you “You heard the man, time to fuck off.”

You’re trying not to laugh at this point. The man is fuming, and Kuroo is as relaxed as ever, completely unbothered by this belligerent fool. You hop from the bar, going to follow after Kuroo who had already started to walk away, arm outstretched as if he was expecting you to find your way underneath it.

However, before you could make it there, you felt a sweaty hand grab at your forearm and yank you back.

Irritated beyond belief and absolutely done with this man’s shit, you whipped around and balled your hand into a fist, nailing him straight in the nose. He stumbled back and fell flat on his ass, staring up at you in a daze

It wasn’t really that strong of a punch, and it hurt your hand like hell, but you ignored it and mockingly leaned down, staring him dead in the eyes

“I’m not interested, so kindly go fuck yourself, because I’m sure nobody else will”

Admittedly, you were a tad harsh, but you were also a little too drunk to care.

Kuroo could only stare in disbelief, and growing amusement.

“HAHAHA HOLY SHIT YOU JUST PUNCHED SOMEONE”

“SHUT UP WILL YOU”

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I’m sure I’ll regret it in the morning.”

Kuroo’s nearly doubled over in laughter as the two of you walk back to his apartment, and you can’t help the grin that over takes your features.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue though, I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you babe.”

A flush crawls up your cheeks, “Ew, stop”

“But babe-”

“Kuroo Tetsuro I swear to god”

He only chuckled at your apparent fluster, throwing an arm around your shoulder and tugging you against him. You flash him a look and he grins at you.

“Just in case anyone else gets any ideas.”

“There’s no one around, Kuroo.”

Sure enough as you glanced around the campus, there was no one around other than a few students walking back from their own escapades, completely wrapped up in their own little worlds.

“Well maybe I just want an excuse to hold you.”

You stop in your tracks, glancing up at him once again to find his expression had completely changed from the cheesy grin he wore moments ago. He was staring down at you with half lidded eyes, pools of molten gold looking straight through you. You search his eyes for any sign of their usual joking sparkle and find nothing of the sort, instead they were burning with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Who says you need an excuse?”

Something sparked in his eyes and the next thing you knew Kuroo’s lips were on yours. There was no hesitance in his movements as he looped his free arm around your waist and cupped the back of your neck with the arm that had been around your shoulders.

You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip and you parted your lips in response, allowing it to slip into your mouth and tangle with your own. However it wasn’t long before you were breaking apart, out of breath and caught by surprise.

“Should we continue this inside?” You suggested between breaths, glancing to his apartment building not far off.

“Whatever ya want, babe.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

A/N: Not as smutty as I intended, more sexual tension-y but I’m willing to do a part two (three??) if anyone wants it? like a full on ns fw scenario n stuff

#NSFW-ish #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto kotaro

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Parent Trap || Ariana, Blanche, Ricky, Rio and Winston

When: 26/06/2020 Who: @letsbenditlikebennett, @harlowhaunted, @ricky-corderbro, @3starsquinn & @danetobelieve Where: The carnival Summary: Ricky, Blanche and Ariana set a trap for Rio and Winston under the pretence of celebrating Ricky’s birthday. Shenanigans ensue. We’re all happy and our skin is clear for the first time in thirteen years. Warnings: None

After what seemed like a hellish month, Ariana was looking forward to their trip to the carnival. While Rio and Winston were under the impression this outing was to celebrate Ricky’s birthday, the rest of the gang had other plans. For the first time in a long time, she felt giddy again. Ricky, Blanche, and Ariana had the perfect plan in motion to get Rio and Winston to talk about the fact they liked each other. They kissed, but they still both seemed absolutely clueless that the other actually liked them. There was a pep in her step as they walked around the carnival, taking in both the fun and weird in stride. They’d been chatting when they walked by a lion, that Ariana quickly realized was actually a golden retriever. She cut off the chatter mid-sentence and exclaimed, “Okay, pause for a second.” She knelt down and extended her hand for the dog to sniff. As it gave her hand a few tentative licks, Ariana was beaming before petting its head. “Good doggy,” she cooed, before turning back to her friends, “So what’s next? I was thinking we could hit up the Ferris wheel, see how cursed White Crest looks from way above.” She looked to Ricky and Blanche to support her suggestion.

Winston had spent a bit of time at the carnival already and they were pretty convinced that it was not as mundane as they would like you to think. That rollercoaster for example definitely had a jump in it, which was not a thing rollercoasters regularly had, but Winston couldn’t see a gap anywhere in the tracks. Adjusting their sunglasses, Winston took a long drink from their soda, the straw making an incredibly irritating slurping noise. “The Ferris wheel?” they asked unconvinced. Was it them or was it just incredibly hot all the time now? They couldn’t remember the summers of White Crest being this hot at a normal time, maybe it was global warming. “Are you sure you don’t want to do something like one of the rides or one of the games or something?”

Ricky loved a good scheme. Winston and Rio would make an adorable couple; if they could get over their innate awkwardness and actually talk about the fact that they were clearly into each other. So when Ariana had come to him with the idea that they parent trap them into a situation where they had to talk, he was 100% on board. “Well I’m the almost-birthday boy.” The ruse that this was to celebrate Ricky’s birthday, which was fully a month away, was flimsy at best. But he was lucky to have friends who were fully supportive of celebrating him. Taking a large bite of his cotton candy he fluttered his eyelashes and pouted, “And the birthday boy wants to ride the Ferris Wheel.” A former flame had once told him his puppy-dog eyes were weapons grade and Ricky fully leveraged that in this moment. “It’s such a nice night for it, and I think there’s going to be enough of a breeze up there where we’ll actually cool down a bit. Without me having to take my shirt off.”

Despite the awkwardness, and the drama and all the terror that lead up to this carnival, Orion couldn’t imagine a better night. It wasn’t a night he had only ever pictured, and never truly imagined could ever be real. A summer night, spent out at a carnival with a group of his closest friends. Back in high school, this had been nothing more than a fantasy he may doodle in his notebook during class. And now he was here, roaming around the place with some of his best friends in the world. Maybe things weren’t all perfect, but maybe just for tonight they could be. These thoughts had preoccupied Rio, who had been watching the exchange among his friends while sipping lemonade from the straw of his giant souvenir cup. Rio had no preference either way. They could ride the ferris wheel, play their rigged games or even go into that ridiculously cursed mime attraction. Rio really didn’t care as long as he got to do it with them. “Wow… you’re really going to pull the birthday card the entire month aren’t you?” Rio whined, realizing that he was in for a very long ride if his roommate was already talking about his birthday. “Fine. Ferris Wheel it is. Just please keep your shirt on.”

“Immmf takimph themmph mfff, itms me,” Blanche’s muffled voice came from her arms circling around the giant, pink unicorn stuffed animal trapped in her arms. A gray wolf and a few other smaller ones were somewhere in there too. Ricky and Ariana had, perhaps, gotten a little too excited at some of the games. She shifted poking her head through the fluff. “I said, if anyone’s taking their shirt off, it’s me. It’s hot,” Blanche said, grinning. Fun carnival times, cheesy parent-trapy plan included, was exactly what she needed right now. After everything that had happened with Bea and with Granny, this was a good palate cleanser. Something to take her mind off things, even if it was just for a little while. She adjusted her many stuffed animals again. “C’mon Rio, you can’t fault Ricky for milking every bit of his existence. It’s clearly, like, at least a two month affair.” She shuffled them all again, refusing to drop any of them. “C’mon, let’s get in line, it’s not too long now and I’ll bet the view’ll be great around now.”

Ariana had offered to help Blanche carry the full on pack of stuffed animals that she and Ricky had won for her, but she’d been pretty insistent on carrying them herself. She giggled as the stuffed animals muffled her words. “You sure you don’t want a hand there, Blanche,” she teased with a smirk fully formed on her face. This was turning out to be one of the best days she’d had in a really long time. It felt like the breath of fresh air they all truly deserved and she was glad to have each and every one of them in her life. She laughed as she added on to Rio, “Listen, if it was up to me, we’d be celebrating Ricky every day of the year. So he gets a birthday month and ferris wheel it is.” She led the way over to the line and found she was unable to hide her devious grin. Soon, Rio and Winston would be on their ferris wheel car together, alone where they’d have to talk. She was sure she could convince the ride operator to have the wheel take a few extra spins.

After feeling on edge for so long, it was hard not to feel as if something was just around the corner that would take them by surprise and hurl them into the dark pits of some despairing nightmare. Winston however was sure that was just a weird denial thing and today was going to be amazing. They were determined to have a good time. For Ricky. Celebrating was important. They’d already had a pretty good time with the attractions apparently and Winston couldn’t help but take several photos of their friend struggling under the burden of her new stuffed friends. “Fine, fine, Ferris Wheel I can do, but I’m going to start a birthday jar and every time you try and get us to do something trivial that’s absolutely not birthday related you can put a dollar in it.” Winston grinned and made a beeline towards the Ferris Wheel, tossing their now empty soda in a bin as they passed by it. They’d been to the carnival a few times already, but when Ricky had suggested this they couldn’t say no.

Orion was content watching the rest of his friends banter. He was grinning widely as he sipped his lemonade and followed the group towards the Ferris wheel. “You’re both really nice to Ricky right now but we live with him.” Rio added in, pointing between himself and Winston. Even Ariana had practically moved in. Rio wasn’t sure if that was a permanent spot or not, but he was happy for her company. “You get to go to the safety of your homes eventually but we have to hear about his birthday 24/7.” He bumped against Ricky, playful nudging to show that he was just kidding. Though his attempt to bump shoulders with him was a failure, since Ricky was so much taller than Rio was. “I don’t suppose telling you about my fear of heights is going to change anything. Or my fear of carnivals for that matter... if we see a clown I’m dipping.” Rio sighed. By this point, he was used to going along with whatever his friends dragged him into, he was even starting to enjoy it. Not that he’d admit that he was sorta thrilled about breaking into a mime restaurant or anything.

“I will absolutely 600% not be shamed for celebrating the auspicious event that is my birth for the amount of time it well and truly deserves… one month minimum. You may pay your tithes to the birthday emperor whenever you wish.” Ricky pretended to stagger back as Rio nudged into him, beaming at his roommate. The Ferris Wheel loomed large as they approached it and over the top of Orion’s blue hair Ricky shot Blanche a wicked smile; at least the portions of her he could see through the stuffed menagier she was holding. The plan was simple enough; just make sure Winston and Rio were at the front of the group when they got in line and hang back enough that they got put into their own car. “I’m pretty sure it’s clown free my dude. I don’t remember having ever seen one and I”ve been to this like every year. As to the heights… being surrounded by friends always makes that easier! We’ve got your back. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m managing just fine on my own, thank you!” Blanche said, hugging the stuffed animals tighter, as if to prove it. “Just don’t look down when we get to the top, look out onto the horizon. That’ll help.” Blanche snickered, trying her best to grin back at Ricky’s evil look. Blanche shuffled, aiming to do so slowly - which, surprisingly enough, wasn’t that hard considering the mass amount of fluff she was carrying in her arms. It worked like a charm, honestly. Ricky and Ariana should be top-notch schemers. Blanche stopped dead in her tracks, as the ride operator waved Rio and Winston into the car, and Blanche just cheerfully said, “We’ll wait for the next one!” and the door closed behind them. Blanche adjusted again, and glanced over at Ariana and Ricky. “Can you two wave at them for me? Please? Like the real obnoxious princess wave from The Princess Diaries.”

“Haven’t seen any clowns yet… There might be mimes though who are equally as, if not more creepy,” Ariana assured, although the mentions of mimes probably wasn’t all that reassuring. She giggled watching Blanche just cling to her stuffed animals even more at the offer of help. Short and determined, she felt that in her soul and she loved it. A smirk was evident on her face as Rio and Winston were closed into their car. As prompted, she did the best princess wave she possibly could as they sent them off. She turned to the ride operator and handed him a twenty, “Any way you could have the wheel go around a few extra spins?” With a nod of agreement, she hopped into a new car with Ricky and Blanche closely behind. Ariana was sure to leave enough room for the full on zoo Blanche was carrying around. She was giddy as she looked to them and said, “We did it! If I’m zoned out, don’t mind me, I’m totally spying.”

Orion should have realized that something was off when the group hung back as they started to head towards the Ferris wheel cart. They were tricked. Bamboozled by their own friends. Rio mentally took back all of the nice things he had thought about them earlier. They were actually the absolute worst. The door locked, sealing himself and Winston in the cart alone as the three stood outside of it looking way too proud of themselves. “Oh my god.” Was all that Rio said at first, working to process the situation they were now trapped in. Blanche, Ariana and Ricky has all made it abundantly clear that the two of them needed to talk. But this? Now? That was just rude. “I can’t believe they just did that.” Rio stared outside of the cart, only brave enough to sneak a few glances at Winston. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking right now. That only made Rio more terrified to be locked in the cart with them. “I think they just Parent Trapped us.”

It didn’t take Winston long to realise what had happened. Fortunately however they had never met a piece of technology that they couldn’t in some way bend to their will and they were sure that this was no different. Reaching out with their mind, Winston grasped the central mechanism of the ferris wheel and instilled their will into it. Forcing it to go backwards, watching as their little cart slowly dipped back down. Of course they forgot about their current problems, everything going the wrong way didn’t seem to agree with the Ferris Wheel and with a grinding, Winston felt the wheel fight back and continue going the right way. Sighing, Winston release the magic and felt the drip of their nose bleeding. “Oh, shit,” they scrabbled around for a tissue, “you got something I can use to stop the nose bleed, I tried and failed to magic us out of this mess…” they sighed gently, “I guess they all really think we need to talk?”

Suddenly, the Ferris wheel jerked and stopped, slowly starting to move backwards. At first, Orion was just convinced this was sketchy carnival mechanics and was sure that they were about to die. His body stiffened in place, his eyes squeezing shut and hoping that whatever happened it happened quickly. But then things stopped and went back to normal, and a moment later, Rio poked an eye open to see Winston’s nose bleeding. Magic. “Jesus, Winston are you okay?” Rio slid his book bag off his back and dug inside of it, pulling out a bag of wet wipes and offering it to Winston. “You’re lucky I’m clumsy and get hurt a lot.” He sighed, pulling his legs up in a pretzel and leaning against the wall of the cart. “Well, they uh- I don’t know what they’d possibly think we should talk about.” Rio’s laugh was more nervous than anything else. He had know idea how much Winston had told them, if they had told the group anything at all. “But uh- whatever it is, you know Ariana’s eavesdropping right now.” At least she was the only one of the three with super hearing.

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston nervously adjusted their glasses before gingerly taking a wet wipe from Orion. “Thanks dude,” they said as they reached up and wiped blood away from their nose, “I’m fine, I was just trying to beat them at their own game but my magic hasn’t been the same since I- I mean we brought Bea back and obviously that was too much.” They didn’t say anything for a moment as they tried to stop the bleeding. As usual it didn’t last too long, just their bodies way of saying not to over do it on the magic. The Ferris Wheel slowly churned them forward, taking them up towards the height of the wheel. “Oh, good point.” Winston reached into their bag and fished out a small speaker. “I’ve been working on this specifically for people with supernatural hearing, this should make it too annoying to listen.” Winston flicked the switch to Werewolf and began sending out a very annoying beeping pulse. “You … you get what they want us to talk about right?”

It felt weird to stare at Winston right now, but the concern over the bloody nose was evident. Orion wanted to lean forward, to help make sure all the blood was off of their face. But considering what they were locked in here for, it didn’t seem like the safest option right now. “It’s probably not an easy spell- you should probably try to rest on the magic for a little bit. Who knows how much energy that took out of you.” His gaze, unsure where to look, settled on the scar on Winston’s neck. It made Rio think of his own scars, wondering how Winston would feel about them. Rio’s handles handles fumbled nervously with the sleeves of his hoodie at the thought. When Winston flipped the machine on, a loud noise pulsated in Rio’s ears and he cringed, rubbing at his ears. “Yep, definitely works.” Werewolf hearing was more sensitive than a hunter’s, so the noise must be annoying for her. “That’s so freaking cool,” Rio stared at the machine in wonder. “Yo- That’s really amazing” Rio knew his face must be red, he wasn’t sure that the blushing would ever go away this time. “I have some theories,” Rio claimed, “We uh- I may have mentioned it to them. About the party. And the uh- what happened at the party. Sorry.”

Raising an eyebrow, Winston shrugged. “I don’t know if it was easy or too ambitious, this thing must weight a few tonnes at least.” They weren’t sure it was the best idea to try again either. They didn’t want to pass out. Noticing Rio’s discomfort, Winston twiddled the dial on the thing to adjust the frequency, hoping that it wouldn’t bother them as much. “Sorry, is that better?, I don’t want to hurt anyone or anything, I just don’t want them listening into a private conversation. I know they think they’re helping but … we should be able to do this at our own pace rather then at a pace that they think works for us.” They tapped their hand against the seat, very aware of just how close Rio was. Was that his deodorant? Winston wasn’t sure but Orion smelled amazing. “What are you apologising for?” Winston asked quietly, a frown decorating their brow. “I know things have been … awkward, I probably shouldn’t have just bailed after we … you know.”

Winston adjusted the settings, and the noise got better. It was still there, but it wasn’t nearly as loud and Orion could hear Winston talk, “No worries, it was just loud. Not painful or anything. I’m uh- the enhanced senses aren’t perfect. I never really got a good handle on the hearing. Sometimes it’s fine and other times... it’s why I wear headphones so much around the house.” Rio wasn’t sure super hearing was even needed to hear his heartbeat at the moment. It ran a mile a minute, threatening to tear out of his chest and toss itself from the Ferris wheel. This conversation was horrifying, because it could change everything. And all Rio wanted was for things to be okay with them. At the very least, the conversation was distracting Rio from how high they were getting from the ground. “I’m just- I guess it wasn’t really my place to tell them. I should have talked to you. But then again we weren’t really talking so I couldn’t do that but just... sorry. And sorry for being sorry.” Even though neither of them had actually acknowledged the moment they were talking about, all Rio could do now was picture the kiss again. He touched his lips reflexively and left his fingers there for a long moment. “No, you’re fine. I ran off first. But I promise I wasn’t running away. I was um... puking.” He realized too late that telling the person he kissed that he puked afterwards didn’t exactly sound flattering, and tried backtracking. “Wait, that sounds really bad. I was not puking because of the... that or anything. I just can’t hold alcohol. Clearly. And it was so hot and... it wasn’t anything to do with you. At all.” Rio paused for a while, trying to build up the courage to actually say something that wasn’t an apology or an excuse. “That was... the best part of the night by far.”

“Loud and annoying I hope,” Winston nodded, supernatural abilities were disorientating at times and Winston could only imagine that enhanced senses must take some adjustment. “Got it, well, I’ll try keep this from being too annoying, at least while we’re talking…” they bit their lip. They were actually about to talk about this. “I mean, I should’ve talked to you too…” Winston bit their lip and tried to think of the right words, “and it isn’t like you were the only one that talked to everyone else but me, like, I mean- I talked to everyone else instead of you and I probably should have talked to you first but talking has never been one of my strong suits. Like I can talk just fine but I say all the wrong things and it’s no good for me or for whoever I’m talking to…” their words tailed off as they realised that they were doing exactly what they were apologising for. Winston’s eyebrows shot up at the admission that Rio was puking, “I’ll try not to take you puking personally,” Winston couldn’t help but tease Rio, “when you ran off I thought …” they weren’t sure what they had thought, “I just thought that you hadn’t … you know, I thought I’d crossed a line or … something. I don’t know. I didn’t want to make you feel worse then I thought you already did and so I should’ve talked to you and cleared the air but instead I kind of just let things get the better of me and get awkward and then we ignored each other for about a week, which - that was fine by the way, I don’t blame you. I …. Well I guess I did the same.”

Oh god. This was definitely the worst. Orion thought he might be sick again. “Oh. We both talked to them. Oh my god that makes me feel so much better.” Rio breathed a heavy sigh of relief. That meant that this wasn’t entirely his fault at least. It also implied that maybe Winston was stressing about this just as much as Rio had been. Rio at least found some comfort in that. “Please don’t.” Rio laughed along with him, reveling in the chance to share a laugh with them again. “I mean I was definitely scared too. But not in a bad way. I’ve- God this is embarrassing- I’ve never actually kissed anyone before. Not for real. Not like that.” Rio finally said the words out loud to them. They had officially acknowledged what had happened and now there was really no turning back. “But it wasn’t you at all. It’s all very much me.” There were only a few people that Rio could be this honest with. Even though things had been awkward with Winston, they were still one of those people. “Listen, I just don’t want to ruin anything? I- I don’t know how parties work. Maybe that stuff happens all the time. But I miss talking to you.” Rio wanted to give Winston the out. A chance to put things behind both of them and try to get back to normal. No obligation. Rio would learn to get over it. He would have to.

“What? You thought I’d be able to stay completely silent after that? I stayed up most of the night just waiting to hear you come back because I’d left you there and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Winston couldn’t believe they were admitting that but they couldn’t help it. Winston blushed when Rio admitted that this had been his first kiss. Winston hoped it hadn’t been the worst. “Oh, I didn’t … how was that your first kiss? You’re hot.” Winston slapped a hand over their mouth for a second and sighed. “Sorry, I think- I am like the most awkward person that I know…” they sighed gently. “Look, Rio, I missed talking too, like … a lot.” Rio was one of their best friends but it was more then that. “You didn’t ruin anything I just wished we’d talked sooner.” Thank God Ariana couldn’t overhear any of this. She would have a field day with just how right she would’ve thought that she was. “... y’know it was a pretty good kiss if it was your first … time.” Winston swallowed nervously. How the fuck did they do this shit in the movies?

“Oh? Really? Um” Orion couldn’t believe that Winston had actually done that. Actually, he could believe it. He just was surprised that they did that night, of all nights. After what happened. “Yeah uh, Blanche came and got me. She drove me around for a bit before I finally got the courage to come home.” Rio had stood out on the hallway for what felt like an hour, wondering if he should try knocking to apologize. But he assumed Winston had been asleep. Plus, he was way too afraid to knock anyways. And then things just sort of devolved from there.

When Winston called him hot, Rio’s face went nuclear and he began coughing, choking on nothing, but unable to process their words. “I- don’t know how to respond to that” Rio laughed, nothing more than a quiet chuckle at first before erupting into full blown giggling. He was turning into a fan girl. “Honestly I don’t know how either one of us could out-awkward the other” Rio couldn’t imagine a world where somebody found him hot. It was a completely foreign concept. Especially coming from someone as hot as Winston. “I wish we did too. And I agree.. about the kiss. Or uh- I concur. Oh god.” Why did it sound like some business meeting instead of them talking about this... whatever this was. “It was. My first kiss. Well technically this guy Winn kissed me once in the theater class Blanche and I were in. But it was for a scene. And it definitely didn’t feel like ours- this one did.”

Honestly, Winston wasn’t entirely sure what they had expected from Rio. Whatever it had been it wasn’t what they had gotten. Quite the opposite actually. It was weird that anyone actually felt this way around them. They were used to flying under the radar. People didn’t normally realise that Winston even existed let alone … wanted them like this. “Oh, we seem to be finding a way,” they finally said, a smile gently creeping across their face at Rio’s reaction. He was cute. Laughing a little, Winston shook their head. “I had to tell Winn to back off and mind his own business because he was trying to give me the whole, don’t you dare hurt my friend speech and it wasn’t helping…” Winston looked at the floor. “I’ve never really- I don’t date generally. I’m- I think- fuck….” they fell silent for a second longer, “I don’t know if we should just start … dating because we live together and it’s important you’ve got somewhere safe, but we could … start slow or something…” they were definitely too awkward for this.

Winston was right, they were finding a way to continue to be excessively awkward. But maybe things were slightly less so. With the truth out in the open, at least Orion didn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore. Not around Winston at least. “Yeah Winn... he has good intentions. He can come on a little strong sometimes.” But Winn had been a good source for Rio to talk with about this, so Rio was thankful for that. Now came the hard part though. Now things were out in the open, so where did they go from this? Rio couldn’t begin to hypothesize an answer. He had no clue what this was like. Or how they should proceed. “Yeah uh- clearly I don’t either. No dating experience.” Rio sighed. They were both really bad at this. “Hey, listen I agree, one hundred percent. But you don’t have to worry about that. I feel safer around you than most people. That’s not going to change.” Rio was conflicted. He knew how he felt about Winston. But maybe a relationship was a bad choice. Everyone had assured him that he wasn’t alone in feeling clueless, but Winston deserved someone that knew how to date. Rio was clueless. Useless. “I don’t- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t- I have issues. That much is obvious. You deserve someone dynamic and amazing and hot like you- I don’t want to hold you back. I want you to be happy.”

Pausing, Winston considered what they wanted to say next. They didn’t particularly care about Winn, honestly they didn’t know him well enough to have a strong opinion either way and this was between the two of them. “Well, at least we’re in the same boat.” Winston paused and listened carefully. “I-” they didn’t really know if they were ready to say what they wanted to say but now wasn’t the time to be afraid, forcing themselves to continue, Winston took a deep breath, “I can’t make this call for you so if you think it’s fine and you won’t stop feeling safe then fine, but it’s more important that you aren’t forced into a bad living situation and I would hate that to be because of me…” Although maybe that was something out of Winston’s control. Rio’s parents weren’t good people and although they were sure there was some hope for Athena they hadn’t been convinced that was enough to jeopardize Rio’s current position. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything and in case you hadn’t noticed we both have issues, fuck dude me and Blanche were bringing someone back from the dead last weekend and you still want to date me?” That was wild. “I mean, not that I’m saying that you do, hypothetically …” They were sure that they were past that by now. “I don’t care about any of that, that’s why I like you, you’re smart and you’re funny and you’re hot too, fuck dude I’m-” Winston didn’t give compliments, “You’re a really good person Rio. I can see how kind you are and you wouldn’t even hunt werewolves or whatever when your parents tried to brainwash you into it, you know how rare that is? Apparently pretty fucking rare.”

God, was Orion tearing up right now? Jesus, how embarrassing. Rio wiped at his eyes, attempting to do it without notice until the sniffling gave everything away. “It doesn’t matter, you know? If we just stay friends. If we date. If we break up. I’ll always feel safe around you. You’re like one of the best people I know.” But Winston was saying some of the nicest things that Rio had ever heard about himself. And even better, Rio had no doubts that Winston was being honest about all of it. “I do- I mean. I’m terrified. I don’t know the first thing about dating or anything like that. But I also know that I uh- feel differently around you than anybody else. It’s a really good feeling. I wish I could explain it more eloquently.” Rio facepalmed himself. How did others always know the right thing to say? Rio could barely get a word out without replacing them with his foot. “But you’re right. Slow is probably the best start. Just to make sure we’re both comfortable” and to give Winston an out if they wanted it, “Plus, it’ll drive them all crazy probably.” Rio smiled, pointing out of the car and towards the cart that followed behind them.

Swallowing, Winston wanted to protest. “You- you say that now dude, but you can’t predict how you’ll feel after we’ve- if we-, fuck you know what I mean dude.” Rio getting emotional made Winston’s heart break a little. “You don’t need to explain it more eloquently …” Winston looked at their converse for a moment, fixating on a stain on the white toe at the end of their foot. “I definitely feel differently around you- I mean, about you. I’m not saying that we should just start something completely drastic, but maybe we could try things slowly … and at our own pace. I love our friends but I don’t need them pressuring me into making this into something that it isn’t yet. But, if it could be something then I would really like it to be something.” Winston was completely certain that had made no sense whatsoever.

Winston was probably right. If they did try this, whatever this may turn out to be, who knew how it would end. If they ever broke up or didn’t work out things would definitely be awkward. But Orion couldn’t believe there was even the slightest slimmer of a chance that he would ever feel unsafe around them. Rio had even gotten over the... necromancy thing. And quickly. When he first heard about the man, he didn’t know how to feel. But this was Winston. They wouldn’t have done it for no reason. Rio truly believed that. “Seriously. It doesn’t matter. If we end up... y’know. And it doesn’t work out or whatever happens. That won’t make me feel unsafe. Maybe awkward but we’ve already been doing that so.” Rio couldn’t be sure that this was exactly what he wanted, but only because he had no clue how to start a relationship. Was that what Winston and Rio were doing right now? He didn’t think so. But for now, as long as the two could talk again it didn’t matter. Rio held a hand out to Winston, maybe too formal for the moment they shared. “It’s a deal.” He laughed, breathing a sigh of relief that he felt he had been holding for weeks now. Quiet seemed to envelop them for a moment, and without the distraction of talking, the dizziness finally started setting in. “Oh god. I just remembered how high up we are. And how much darker it’s gotten.” Maybe puking wasn’t completely off the table yet.

By some strange… be it magic or just the inherent workings of a carnival, a quick glance and then doubletake at his watch told Ricky that while it certainly hadn’t felt like it, they’d been up on the Ferris Wheel for a little over five hours. “Jesus Christ” he muttered under his breath as the gate to the car was opened and they exited back onto the noisy metal deck of the ride, “Glad my bladder didn’t realize we were up there for fucking ages.” He held a hand out to help Blanche and Ariana down if they needed it before turning to smile beatifically at the car holding his roommates. “Did we have fun? Did we maybe talk about some things? Nothing like a time-compressing carnival ride to give you the time to really hash things out.” As he was about to continue he heard his stomach growl noisily, “But we were up there for hours and I need a snack. I think I saw a cart selling those giant turkey legs, and your boy could definitely go for one of those.”

For most of the ferris wheel ride, Ariana had been pouting about the high pitched frequency Winston had turned on. How was she supposed to eavesdrop with that god awful sound? Eventually, she gave up and resided to taking a million selfies with Ricky while Blanche took a nap on her giant unicorn. How many pictures they’d gotten today left her feeling delighted and she couldn’t wait for the cabin to be done so she could hang every single one up in her room. She did notice the sky getting darker and was shocked by the time, “Wait, how has it even been that long?” It dawned on her that this was White Crest. The thought was soon forgotten when they met back up with Rio and Winston. With an arched brow, she asked, “So we talked things out, right?” Somehow, she knew they did and her tone was a little snug. Quickly, she agreed with the snacks idea, “Yes, I need a turkey leg.. Or two. I’m hungry. My leg is starting to get kinda sore though.” The stitches on her leg were still healing up and taking their sweet time after being broken open twice. She gestured to Ricky to lower himself so that she could get a proper piggy back ride across the carnival. She joked, “You’re walking!”

As Winston stepped off of the Ferris Wheel, they noticed that the sun had dipped much lower in the sky then it should have. How long had they been up there talking? It hadn’t been more then five minutes, of that much Winston was sure. At least until they glanced at their watch. “That’s definitely a magic wheel,” they muttered to Rio as they headed to meet their friends. “Ari, I put on a loud noise so that you couldn’t listen into our conversation that you forced us to have against our will, do you think we talked things out? Or do you think we sat there in silence.” Winston was deflecting. They weren’t ready to talk to the others about the conversation that they had had with Orion. That was for them for now. It didn’t however stop Winston for slipping their hand into Rio’s. Hopefully that would be enough of a message to everyone as to just how the ride had gone. “I definitely need to eat if we’ve been up there for hours. Do we want carnival food or do we want to hit up somewhere like Flipped?”

Blanche yawned loudly, the stuffed animals back in her arms as she hobbled back over to Winston and Rio with Ariana and Ricky. She slept like the dead once she realized that Ariana couldn’t hear anything, and yet it felt far too short considering how long they’d apparently been up there. Five hours? There’s no way she wouldn’t have woken up in that period of time. That didn’t make any sense. She shook it off tiredly looking between Rio and Winston between arms full of softness and fluff. They seemed better, even with Winston’s deflecting and - wait, were they holding hands? Blanche was glad she could easily bury her face into the stuffed animals and hide it, because she was definitely giggling a bit. “Flipped?” Blanche asked. “I could go for a big peanutbutter milkshake to wake me up. And coffee. So much coffee.”

Orion could feel his face heat up when Winston grabbed ahold of his hand. But he wasn’t embarrassed and he certainly didn’t want Winston to stop. It was funny how quickly Rio’s opinion on PDA switched once he actually wanted to hold onto someone else’s hand. But Winston was right, that had been a magic wheel. And if that Ferris wheel was magic, who knew what else here was sketchy. “You’re all real brave to eat the food from here, just saying” Rio laughed. Maybe he was standing too close to Winston, but right now he had no intentions of leaving their side. Not after the weeks they had spent being so awkward around each other. “I like the Flipped idea. It’s safe. Er- well , safer. And we can get Blanche some caffeine”

Ariana dramatically rolled her eyes at Winston and said, “I can’t believe you basically used a dog whistle on me.” She pouted slightly at the thought of no turkey leg, but quickly remembered she’d be able to order eggs and bacon. She laughed a bit at Rio’s mention of the food here possibly not being safe. “Eh,” she replied nonchalantly, “I’ve eaten worse and survived, but I’m good with Flipped. I could demolish some bacon right about now.” The ride itself had felt quick, but her stomach was telling a different story as it quietly rumbled. Her eyes lit up when she noticed Winston grabbing Rio’s hand and she excitedly nudged Ricky. Their mission had been a success after all and she felt gleeful knowing two of her favorite people could be happy together. “To the car then,” she exclaimed. There was a soft yet slightly tired grin on her face as they left the carnival. Some days, it still blew her mind that she had a whole group of friends she could be her true self around without facing fear or judgment. Ariana knew she’d always hold on tight to each and every single one of them and cherish this fun day for years to come.

#wickedswriting #parent trap #para #chatzy #chatzy para #p: ariana #p: blanche #p: ricky #p: orion

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

Do you have a vlog? No. I have no interest in being a vlogger/YouTuber. Plus, my vlogs would be incredibly boring.

If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? Nope. Like I said, they’d be incredibly boring. I also just don’t want to be in the front of the camera and I wouldn’t feel comfortable uploading videos like that about myself.

Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? I remember going in the morning.

What are your favorite youtube channels to watch? I have several--from vloggers to lifestyle videos to ASMRtists.

Which relative(s) do you look the most like? My mom.

Have you ever watched a live birth video? I’m still scarred from the Miracle of Life video we had to watch in middle school. I covered my eyes for most of it, but unfortunately I saw some things. lol.

Have you ever given birth? No.

Do you remember when the Internet was a new thing? I remember when it was new for me.

Do you remember Y2K? Yes.

How old were you when the year changed to 2000? I was 10 at the start of the year.

What was your favorite childhood vacation? Disneyland trips. Back then a few of my cousins and aunts came along as well and it was so much fun.

Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? No.

What's your birth order: oldest, middle, or youngest? I’m the middle kid.

Do you fit the stereotype for whatever birth order you are? I do have some of the middle kid bullet points, such as we’re apparently people- pleasers, peacemakers, and sometimes feel like the odd one out.

Have you ever worn overalls? Yeah, as a kid.

If you're a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I was 13.

Do you get cramps? I don’t have my period anymore due to health reasons, but back when I did I had horrible cramps and basically every other awful symptom physically and emotionally. Wasn’t a fun time at all.

Is your mom mentally stable? Yes.

Is your dad a complete jerk to you? No, not at all.

Where do you want to go on vacation next? Who knows when it’ll be safe to travel again. It’s hard to even think about it right now.

What is one place you want to visit before you die? Sweden.

Has anyone ever committed suicide in your town, that you know of? Yeah.

What's your favorite type of crackers? Cheez-Its, Nips, Goldfish, Ritz, and the Keebler Club crackers.

What's your favorite spice? Garlic, oregano, basil, paprika, black pepper, parsley, chives.

Are you sensitive? Yes.

Are you intuitive? In some ways.

Are you spiritual? Depends on your definition of spirituality. Some see it in the religious sense, while for others it’s about non-religious experiences and getting in touch with their inner selves through stuff like yoga, meditation, and nature. I fall in the first group.

Do you wish your life were easier? It’d sure be nice if things lightened up and were more manageable, ya know?

What color hair did your first crush have? Brown.

What was the name of your first crush? Philip.

Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Do you remember your first email address? lol yeah.

Did you name your lego characters? I don’t think so.

What was/is your high school's mascot? I’m not sharing that.

What is/was your favorite class in high school? I liked English, Spanish, and the piano class I took my senior year.

Is college an adventure? You could say that.

Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? Not at the moment.

If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse? The anxiety meds were helpful, but the anti-depressants were not.

If applicable, what form of birth control do you use? I’m not on birth control.

Who is your favorite cousin? I used to be really close to a few of my cousins, but not anymore in recent years. That’s largely because of me. :(

Do you look your age? People have said I look younger.

What's your favorite flavor of frosting? Good ol’ vanilla.

Do you like toe socks? Nah.

Muffins or cupcakes? I like both.

Have you ever had a bag stolen? No.

How old were you when you got your first phone? I was 15.

Are you ready for summer?!?! Ew, no, don’t even start with that shit. It’s nice and cold here and I love it. Summer is always so long and miserable, I don’t miss it when it ends.

Is winter your favorite season? One of them. Fall is the other. How many people do you know who've said winter is their favorite season? I say that. It’s not a popular opinion, but I don’t care.

Are you unique in any way? I don’t feel very unique.

Do you have any hidden talents? Nope. Unless they’re super hidden and I haven’t discovered them, yet, but I highly doubt it.

Has anyone said you and your mom look like sisters? Yes.

Who was your best friend in high school? I had a couple my freshman and sophomore year and then it changed my junior and senior year.

What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Ha, I was actually scared of Ghostface from Scream as a kid. I had a reoccurring nightmare about being chased by him. Now, the Scream movies are among some of my favorite scary movies.

What song makes you cry? Everlong (the acoustic version) by Foo Fighters.

Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Yeah, I had told one of my cousins.

How many teachers have you had crushes on? Zero.

Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? I clearly remember making my Barbies have sex lol, so it was way past that stage hahah <<< lmaooo I did that, too. :X

Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? Yeah.

How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16.

Do you like church? Yes.

Do you have scars from self-harm? No.

Do you have cellulite? No.

How old were you when you started getting zits? When I was 13.

Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? In the fact that I got blonde highlights in middle school.

Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? Shorter.

Would you ever consider adopting a child? I don’t want to have children.

Who was your first roommate? I’ve never had one.

Have you ever had a teacher who was rude? I had two really rude math professors in community college. They were awful.

Is your mom paranoid? No.

Do you trim your own hair? I did when I had bangs.

Did your mom read you bedtime stories as a child? Yes.

What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? A witch and vampire stand out the most, but there were others.

What was the name of the first pet that you loved? My dog, Scruffy.

Did you have your own room as a child? Yes.

What color was your nursery? I don’t know.

Did your parents know your gender before you were born? I think so. Was that a thing back in 1989? lol I’m dumb.

What is your name (first and middle)? All you need to know is Stephanie.

What would you have been named if you had been born the opposite gender? My mom has said Jesse.

Do you like your name? Sure.

What would you name your children? I’m not having kids.

Do you exercise regularly? I don’t exercise at all.

Do you have a healthy BMI? I’m underweight.

What is your favorite season? We’ve been through this.

Do you look like your mom? Yes.

What is the origin of your last name? Irish.

What is the meaning of your first name? “Crowned”, I think.

What month were you born in? July.

Do you share a birthday with anyone in your family? Nope.

Do you have a sweet tooth? Nah. I crave sweets now and then.

What photo editing software do you use? Usually, I just use the filters on Snapchat or Instagram, but I have a couple photo editing apps with other filters. That’s the only thing I do to my photos, I don’t go crazy with it.

Where do you buy most of your clothes? Hot Topic and Boxlunch.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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celestialinent · 4 years

Text

Learning Curve

“Good morning. Call me…”

Persephone stared down at the phone, eyes wide. He’d texted her this morning, while she was on the train to school. She’d been delighted to hear from him after the disaster of their second date.

It hadn’t been the worst date in history, Eros assured her on the phone afterward, but she had absolutely no reference point, and setting the table cloth on fire seemed like a pretty tremendous failure.

Still, he was texting her, that was a good sign.

Or it had been. Then she’d actually read it. What did that mean?

Good morning. Call me…

Persephone hadn’t had a phone for very long, only a year, but she understood subtext. If conversations with Artemis and Eros weren’t enough, it had turned out that most of her classmates were avid texters themselves. No one phoned anymore. Or so it had been explained to her.

She went into her first class feeling anxious, and even though he’d asked her to call her, she held off. Her Botany exam was today, and even though she was fairly confident she’d ace it, she would rather wait until after to be broken up with.

Gods. They’d only been on two dates. But obviously he knew she was unworthy now. She was clumsy and young and why would the King of the Underworld want to be with a stupid little village girl?

“Perse?” Tori prompted. She startled, turning to see him holding out the exam sheet. He sent her a confused look, not unkindly. Their relationship had its rocky patches, but after she’d forced Hades to give his roommate the eye back, they’d settled into a nice polite acquaintance.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she murmured, taking the exam with an anxious smile.

He blinked. “Nervous? Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

She smiled a little wider, touched that he would try to reassure her. “Thanks…just, you know, normal test jitters.”

Turning back and placing the exam softly on her desk, Persephone tried to banish any doubts from her mind. Now was not the time to mourn the death of her fledgling relationship. She had a break at lunch. She’d probably cry then.

The test went swimmingly, as did the debate in Godly Law, and the reading discussion in Epic Poetry. Class was not the issue.

When her break finally rolled around, Persephone took the short walk to the center of campus and found a nice secluded tree to sit underneath. She wanted privacy if she was going to handle whatever the hell that text meant. What she really needed was Eros, but ever since he’d found Psyche she hated to interrupt their happy couple bliss with her convoluted thing, or whatever it was, with Hades.

Swallowing thickly, Persephone drew her phone out of her pocket, thumbing at the screen and staring down at the tiny red notification over the text app. One. She opened it, staring at the message through narrowed eyes.

Well, it hadn’t changed in the hours since she’d received it.

She thought back to last night, searching for any glaring offenses, other than the table cloth. It had seemed to go well, all else told, and he’d driven her home after and given her a very polite kiss to the cheek.

So she’d knocked over a candle? Who still ate by candlelight anyway? Gods, were they living in the Titan Ages?

They’d been dancing around each other for months, and the first date had been a literal dream. Maybe she’d been arrogant to think they’d gotten past the worst of it, gotten past all the awkwardness and the self-doubt. Being with Hades felt right, it felt exciting and satisfying. Persephone thought he felt the same new rush of eager joy, but maybe she was wrong.

With a deep and sorrowful sigh, she swiped up and started tapping at the keyboard.

just got out of class. free to talk?

His response was immediate

All clear..

What the hell did that mean? With a frustrated huff, Persephone called him, leg bouncing as she fretted. The phone rang for a beat too long, and she worried that he was playing some kind of cruel trick on her. Then he picked up.

“Hey Sweetness!” he chirped. She smiled involuntarily.

“Hi!” she practically cooed, cringing internally at the huskiness of her voice. Gods, she was a goner.

“I assume you got my text?” he asked, and her stomach dropped.

“Uh, yeah I did. Is everything okay?” She hated how small her voice sounded.

His concern was apparent even through the phone. “No. Why, is everything okay with you?”

“You sounded angry,” she admitted.

“I sounded—Persephone it was a text!” he sounded outright confused.

“Yeah, and it sounded angry. Good morning. Call me? That sounds very ominous!”

“What? I was saying good morning, and I wanted to hear your voice,” he explained, still sounding quite baffled.

“You put a full stop! And the ellipses? Very ominous!” she insisted. The relief was there, surely, but now she was frustrated. She’d worried all morning that he was going to crush her heart, and the whole thing was a simple misunderstanding?

“Ellipses?” he asked, voice getting distant for a moment, he was quiet for a moment. “Oh,” he said, voice returning. He sounded bashful. “I didn’t mean to do those.”

“Hades!” she snapped. “I was terrified!”

“Terrified of what?”

“I was—well I was afraid you were…” she couldn’t bear to say it, squirming with discomfort. Persephone was so thankful he couldn’t see the full-bodied flush she was suffering from. All of this, a total and complete misunderstanding.

“Kore,” he murmured, suddenly serious, “I had an amazing time last night, table cloth and all. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to have dinner again Thursday.”

Persephone gasped, taking the phone away from her ear for a moment so she could flail around a little bit. She felt like she might jump out of her own skin, she was so excited. “Yes!” she exclaimed, bringing the phone back to her face. “I’d love to!”

“Good,” he replied, and she could hear the wince through the phone. Oh. Too loud.

“Good!” she agreed.

“Hades,” a voice barked from somewhere in the room with him. It sounded like Hecate. Persephone grinned, imagining the goddess sitting through the peculiar one-sided conversation.

“Sorry Sweetness, duty calls,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay!” she reassured him. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Stop laughing!” Persephone snapped. Eros was laughing so hard he had stopped making any sound, and Artemis looked to be on the way there. The pair of them were slumped against each other on the couch, eyes closed in mirth. Psyche was sitting in the armchair, looking incredibly confused.

“S-Sorry Perse, but- but that’s- that- Gods!” Eros clutched his stomach, trying to reign himself in.

“Can I see it again?” Artemis asked, hands reaching out to grab at Persephone’s phone. The pink goddess glared, tucking the phone back into her pocket.

She’d asked to have dinner with the three of them in order to ask for some much-needed advice and catch up with her friends, but they were now spending about twenty minutes laughing at the whole situation.

“It’s not funny!” she grumbled. “I was really worried!” “I really am sorry, sweetheart,” Eros wheezed, composing himself after a few more moments of laughter. Artemis was too far gone at this point. “It’s just…you’re dating an absolute old man.”

“Stop!” she whined.

“Does he always text like that?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I never noticed it before. I guess.”

“Is it quite impolite?” Psyche asked. She was new to Olympus level technology, and she’d just gotten her first phone last week.

“It’s funny,” Artemis snorted. “That’s how my mom texts.”

Persephone made a face. “Mine too.”

“Oh, is she finally texting you?” Eros asked.

“A little. I’m gonna give it another week before she finally stops trying to make me change my mind.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Artemis asked. She’d finally sat up, although her skin was still flushed from the exertion of her laughter. She was finally winding down. “Your boyfriend texts like a dad!”

“You should really teach him not to do that,” Psyche said.

Eros turned to stare at her. “You’re one to talk! I can’t even get you to text me!” “I don’t understand why I would. We spend a lot of time together. And when we don’t I’d much rather phone.”

Artemis, eyes wide, pointed an accusative finger in Eros’ direction. “You too! Both of you are dating grandparents!”

“Pardon me!” Psyche gasped.

Persephone’s phone dinged just as Artemis started laughing again and Eros rushed to explain their friend was only joking.

Hey…. How are you….

Persephone groaned, turning the phone around so her friends could see Hades’ latest text. “Tell me what this is supposed to mean.

The laughter went on for hours.

#long post #lore olympus #persephone #hades #artemis #psyche #originally posted on ao3

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pip-n-flinx · 3 years

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Among Us

So this is going to get long, this is going to get personal, this is going to be about prejudice and race and self-serving bad-faith arguments and flawed rhetoric. And for all of these reasons I’m going to leave the rest of this under the cut.

As a few of my friends will know, earlier this week I was delivered an ultimatum from my landlord/roommate. He disguised it well, telling me he was ‘concerned for my mental health’ that my ‘negativity was dragging the whole house down’ and that I was simply too filthy to live with. I won’t pretend I’m a neat freak, and I can honestly say that I have taken some pains to clean more since, to his surprise and delight, though its particularly hard to take coming from him.

“You’re always so down. It’s making you lazy and thin skinned” You know its funny you should say that, now specifically, because I’ve actually been on the up and up this last week and you didn’t mention this at all in January when I was actually at my worst, or February when I was afraid I was going to have to quit my job, or back during the holiday season when retail work was breaking my back... Only now do you think to check in on me?

“You left a pair of gloves, a letter, and a small wooden trinket on the table!” Indeed I have, as you have left your pair of gloves, well over 21 letters, and regularly set your packages on this same table, including today two packages to be returned to amazon. I didn’t realize I didn’t get to use the table the same way you do.

“You don’t do dishes! except that you did this week, which is cool I guess but still!” You do realize that I actually hand-wash every dish I use within 24 hours of using it, right? And that often the dishes you come to me bitching that I never cleaned are in fact your fiances, yes? Ok good, next question.

“You’re always complaining about work. I don’t mind that you vent, but its all you talk about anymore!” I have either lost or walked away from 4 jobs in this last year, and that has not been easy, or fun. I have worked essential retail jobs the entire pandemic thus far. Additionally, in the months leading up to you storming out of your 75k a year salaried sales job, I had told you to leave it because I could see that it was killing you. You got so fed up with the job that for 4-5 months before you left your grandma-paid-off-my-second-mortgage capitalism-knows-best-pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps-ass spent more time playing valorant and league of legends on the clock than doing actual work. Need I remind you that every time I stepped into your office, or simply stepped upstairs to get ready for work, you would complain about how awful your managers were, or how shitty someone had been to you over the phone? DID I EVER BELITTLE YOU FOR ANY OF THESE THINGS????

The real kicker was that the spark, the moment that started this (at least for him) was me trying to explain why racism and ‘cultural supremecy’ was bad. I had brought to him something I thought we could both agree on, that we could both laugh at. I brought him a series of tweets about how problematic Van Gogh was for studying and imitating traditional japanese painting techniques. He took this, and immediately turned into a piece of the culture wars. Now, I agree, this is an egregious example of trying to ‘cancel’ someone. How cancelling a long dead artist who couldn’t sell his art while he was alive is important is beyond my comprehension, its not as though the market value of these comes up very often, and almost no-one will ever have a chance to buy or reject a Van Gogh. But to him this was emblematic of ‘liberals’ cancelling Seuss and Rowling.

He even went so far as to say that Van Gogh probably ‘did it better’ than the artists he was studying/imitating. Now, this is a huge red-flag to me because this is straight out of the Nazi playbook. This is William Shenker, proposing a theory of music to proof ‘German cultural superiority.’ This, if you will pardon my language, is the real culture war: trying to supplant other cultures art and history with western figures and events.

Now, for those of you who don’t know who I’m talking about, this man is sexist. He doesn’t believe women are equal, complains about women’s sports, and rejects a woman’s right to choose. This man is a transphobe, questioning the logic of ‘safe-spaces’ and allowing people to change their pronouns. This man is a Trump supporter, and voted for him twice. And all of these things I found out years after we became friends. I have in the past contemplated what it would take to cut him out of my life wholesale. Despite our wealth of shared experience and our shared interests, we’ve been drifting apart as he drifts further and further to the right. And he has been drifting. He’s parroted more bad-faith arguments from Ben Shapiro and Tucker Carlson in the last 6 months then he ever did when I first moved in with him.

I have been trying to push back, especially when he says the quiet parts out loud. I try to let him know that it is not acceptable to say he would rather an unarmed black man die that risk that a police officer might be injured. When he compares the people in control of Seuss’ intellectual property and works choose to stop printing less than 6% of his published works to the book burnings in Mao’s china. When he says that its more important to protect teacher from students trolling them by changing their pronouns than it is to protect trans or NB kids. When he espouses his belief that trans and NB kids are ‘just mentally ill.’ Whenever he says any of this shit, I have pushed back. I have tried to halt, or at least slow, his descent towards eugenics and white supremacy and fascism.

It has been to no avail.

And to be honest its exhausting. I wanted to believe that he would trust me, not just to be a moral and thoughtful person, but to be educated and informed on these issues. We went to school together, spent countless hours solving homework and trying to crack games together. If I don’t know the answer to his questions immediately, he often jokes ‘C’mon, you’re supposed to know everything!” and has frequently told me that I’m selling myself short.

But apparently all that trust and all that respect goes out the window when I challenge him. Suddenly I’m ‘overly negative’ or ‘too sensitive’ or he’ll ‘need to look into that, but...’

And the thing is, he is capable of great acts of kindness. He offered to rent me a room in his completely paid-off house, no mortgage at all, simply because he could see living at home was killing my mental health. He offered me 50-75% off of market rate. He buys gifts all the time, has landed tenants job interviews, set people back on their feet, and refused to press charges for several major financial loses he’s taken on the determination that it would do more harm to the defendant than he could ever recoup from it.

But he does not extend this kindness, this generous soul, to everyone. And lately, his circle grows smaller, and his kindess has waned, and it’s been so devastating to see him slip further and further towards his own worst impulses.

I know there will be people who think I should have cut him out of my life years ago, who can’t believe we never talked enough to know that he voted for Trump in 2016. I think back then he was genuinely ashamed, or at least guilty, about that vote. Now? It’s almost a matter of pride for him. I can’t tell you the number of times in the last 4 months that he’s told me that Biden “couldn’t possibly” be as “great” a President as Trump.

And he hides behind this “praise them when they do good, cuff them when they do bad” line and I used to take comfort in it but now... Now it’s clear that it was just a front or excuse for liking these abhorrent people.

I’ve had a couple of hard conversations with some of our mutual friends about what this means for me, and how I interract with the whole group of friends as a whole, in the last 3 days. None of our mutual friends seem to take any of these things as seriously as I do, with my oldest friend even telling me that he ‘can’t imagine’ breaking a friendship off over politics.... I know I know, the caucasity of it all, yes ha ha. And it does make me genuinely worried that I’ll wind up losing the 5-6 close friends that I actually rely on these days over this horrible sonuvabitch. But all this personal venting aside, there’s something bigger here I want to address:

I sat down this evening to watch Last Week Tonight and I was struck by this piece about Tucker Carlson, because while I knew some of what was said on his show, he is remarkably confident for a man who spouts the quiet parts of racism/sexism/homophobia on TV. I have a hard time imaging a more blatantly racist thing to do then declare that a woman who suggested ‘dismantling systems of oppression wherever they are found’ wants to dismantle the American system...

And I have to say, we should go back to punching Nazis. I want these fuckers afraid. I want them to crawl back to the furthest reaches of the internet, relegated to be laughed at for their bigotry by pundits of every political ideology. I want their vile vitriol hidden away where it doesn’t embolden others. I want them to know that they are out of line, out of touch, out of time. I want them to feel ashamed, like the relics of a bygone and worse era that they are, and for them to quietly fade to an ignominious death. I’m tired of seeing them on National News. I’m tired of Pewdiepie’s channel and influence refusing to die despite all the horrible things he’s said and done. I’m tired of Ben Shapiro spouting off about a woman’s place and rights, as if he has any fucking authority on the matter. I just want these people to lose their platforms and their followers. And for me the fact that they haven’t yet is so incredibly discouraging.

I know I didn’t offer any answers here I’m just tired of being alone with this defeated attitude and I guess I needed to get this off my chest as I try to disentangle myself from the losing battle of trying to save a friend from alt-right radicalization.

#tw/ white supremecy #tw/ sexism #tw/ racism #tw/ transphobia #wooow this got longer than I expected #meta: alt right radicalization #and how they're reaching people my age #plus a lot of personal venting

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Changes - part five Word count: ±4000 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part five: While Dean catches up on some sleep after being shot, Sam goes over Zoë’s research, curious to find out more about the case and the intriguing huntress. A whole lot more is revealed, however, once Zoë wakes up. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Music: Down By The River - Neil Young, Look But You Can’t Touch - Poison, Changes - Black Sabbath. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish & @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

Sunshine peeks through the red curtains, like a little kid playing hide and seek. The beams of light illuminate motes of dust, which playfully dance in the air. Thunder and rain have moved on and made room for the sun to brighten the Northern state. It’s past noon and Sam is seated at the table, which is entirely filled with papers, books, files, and both his and Zoë’s laptops. Concentrated, he goes through documents on Zoë’s Macbook, preparing for the next encounter with the shapeshifter. Neil Young is singing Down By The River on the radio, so softly, that he has to listen carefully to make out the words.

Besides traffic rushing by on Route 52 right next to the motel, it’s peaceful. Dean stirs in the double bed, but settles again and continues to sleep while snoring softly, causing his brother to look up and grin. He’s not sure what’s funnier; the fact that Dean is neither sleeping on the floor nor on the couch as Zoë persisted earlier, or that she’s actually the one sleeping next to him. Just before 8 o'clock she finished up the last stitch on Dean. Sam still doesn’t know if Zoë actually knew what she was doing, but she did great. After a night like last night, neither of them gave a damn who slept next to whom.

He thought Dean was hard-headed, but Zoë takes the cake, which is without doubt the reason why they can’t stand each other. It is unimaginable now, but they must have gotten along fine before, otherwise Dean wouldn’t have remembered her. Hell, he doesn’t even remember some of the girls he hooked up with, not to mention the girls he didn’t. If Sam may believe his brother, she was this fun, sweet and caring student, living the good life. A typical Californian girl, loved to surf and hang out on the beach. Also quite a musician; apparently she’s pretty good with a guitar. That’s what Dean told him on their way over to the motel anyway. She worked hard to become a surgeon, aiming for neurology. Then that demon came along and fucked it all up.

Sam sighs, sympathizing with the young woman. Why do bad things always happen to good people? Now look what she has become. She's a hunter, one that is damn good at her job, but still. She could have ended up with so much more. It turns out that everyone in this line of work needs history to get lost in the world of monsters. He hasn't heard the whole story yet and Zoë doesn't seem to feel like sharing, but one thing is for sure; she uses her intelligence that got her into med school to her advantage as a hunter. The supernatural database she’s built is outstanding, especially taking into account that the first file dates from 2001, a little over four years ago. She is dedicated, that’s for sure.

He looks over at the young woman, who is sleeping peacefully, curled up on her right side, eyes closed and breathing calmly. It’s weird to see the huntress like that; she seems so vulnerable now. Not entirely, though, because even in her sleep, the huntress seems to have the upper hand on Dean. She has claimed the covers and is comfortably cocooned by them, not leaving much for Sam’s brother. He doesn’t seem to be bothered, though. It will take a lot to wake Dean up after what went down this morning. He was in agony during the procedure, probably wishing he had taken her offer for a sedation when he had the chance. The pain took its toll, knocking him out soon after Zoë ran the last stitch through his skin. After he had his burger, of course.

The light from outside shines a graceful glow on Zoë’s pretty face; she seems to be smiling slightly. Their roommate for the night might act like a total bitch, especially to Dean, but Sam finds her attractive. It isn’t just the fact that she’s a beautiful woman; it’s her attitude, too. Zoë has proven already to be incredibly intelligent, not to mention independent. She stands her ground and doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Since they have met, he saw both fire and ice in her eyes; she’s a force of nature to be reckoned with. However, he has to be honest with himself. After what happened to Jess, he can’t think of her like that, not now.

His eyes are taken over by sadness as his thoughts go back to that moment, almost a month ago. He shifts in his chair, causing it to creak. He doesn’t have time to dwell in his sorrow, because out of nowhere, Zoë bolts up startled and pulls a gun from under her pillow. “Whoa!" Sam shows his hands in innocence. Puzzled, the huntress stares at him, then aside at Dean, only then lowering the gun. “Guess it wasn’t a weird dream,” she mutters with a raspy voice. “No, I guess it wasn’t. Holy shit.” He relaxes again when Zoë flips the safety switch of the gun and puts it back under her pillow. “I’m not used to having people around, that’s all,” she excuses as she intends to get out of bed. “I think paranoid is a better description,” Sam comments. “Shut up,” Zoë sneers, clearly not in a good mood. “What time is it?” “Almost one,” Sam replies, concentrating on the computer screen again. Not even five hours, she realizes; although it’s past midday, she didn’t get much sleep.

She licks her lips and swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the bad taste in her mouth. Not a great way to wake up, she still feels like roadkill. The amount of whiskey she drank last night, followed by fries and a burger, didn’t help either. Thankfully, it’s still pretty dark in the room. Her eyes can’t handle the bright light from outside just yet. A moan escapes her mouth as she gets up, her hand covering her painful abdomen. God, it seems even worse than last night, but she’s not worried. It’s normal to feel sore, unfortunately this is not the first time she’s been shot. Slowly, she shuffles to the bathroom while Sam watches her. “You alright?” he wonders, surprised by her condition. “Yeah, just a bit hungover,” she lies.

Sam decides not to ask any more questions. They may have only just met, but he’s under the distinct impression that he won’t get far if he goes at her with the third degree. He turns back to his laptop, watching an installation program proceed. The county website of Rochester is hidden in the lowest toolbar, and finally the slow moving progress bar hits a hundred percent. A program opens and asks for a password. “Damn it!” Sam curses. How on earth is he gonna crack this? He is pretty skilled with a computer, but he’s not a hacker. “What?” The voice comes from the bathroom, it’s just now that Sam hears the shower running. “Nothing,” he responds, absently. Zoë decides not to ask again. Besides, it’s not like she actually cares. The cleansing water coming from the showerhead feels like acid on her stitched up bullet wound, but at the same time it’s relieving. She rakes her fingers through her hair and lets the water rain down on her face. The silence bothers Zoë, she could use a little music to start her day. “Could you turn on the radio?” Silence. Sam is so focused on his work, that he doesn’t hear her. “Sam!” Zoë shouts over the noise of the shower. He snaps out of it. “What?” “Could you turn up the radio?” she repeats. “Dean’s asleep,” he reacts, typing strenuously. “So?” Again, Sam fails to respond. “Hello?!” “What? No, I can’t work with music,” he mutters thoughtlessly.

Zoë doesn’t ask again. Dean - knowing her better - would’ve probably noticed that unusual fact, but it’s not until Zoë walks by, completely naked and dripping wet, that she catches Sam’s attention. “Holy sh--" He swallows down the last word and quickly snaps his head away, almost falling off his chair. Not even a bit uncomfortable, the huntress elegantly parades to the table, leaving footprint shaped puddles in her wake. She bends over to turn up the volume, getting into Sam’s personal space. Look But You Can’t Touch by Poison blares from the radio once she gives the button a spin, but she doesn’t leave just yet. Amused, she turns to face him, leaning against the table, provokingly. The younger Winchester brother awkwardly tries to keep his eyes from wandering; it’s obvious he’s ill-at-ease.

“Never seen a naked woman before, geekboy?” “You could have warned me,” he responds, his voice slightly higher than usual, still looking away with wide opened eyes. “You could have turned up the radio,” she counters. Only when Zoë moves away from him again, he breathes out. When he’s pretty sure it’s safe to turn his head, Sam carefully glances at the bathroom. Thank God, she’s back in the shower. Again he rubs his face and stares at his brother for a moment, who’s still asleep. “Dean, you have no idea what you just missed,” he mumbles, before the huntress’ voice startles him again. “What’s that?” Sam shifts uncomfortably in his chair and stares back at the bathroom. “N-nothing!” he responds, too fast. Not a sound.

She’s not gonna come back out again, is she? Sam swallows apprehensively and tries to concentrate on his work, but he finds it difficult to do so. Whoa, I mean, really… Whoa. She might behave like a total bitch, but she’s breathtaking. He only had a glance, but the image is carved in his memory. Curvy, yet muscular; it’s clear she’s fit. He hits himself in the head; he cannot think of her like that. She’s a bitch, not sexy. Bitch, not sexy. Suddenly, he hears her voice echo from the bathroom. At first it scares Sam, because for a moment, it sounds like she’s right behind him, but then he’s pleasantly surprised as she joins in during the chorus of the song playing on the radio. “‘cause you can look but you can't touch, cause the best things in life ain't cheap. You can look but you can't touch, cause baby I ain't for keeps,” she sings, teasingly. Again, he peeks at the bathroom. He can see her pretty much perfect silhouette through the blurred glass, and he quickly turns his head. Sam Winchester, keep it together! He’s disgusted by the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off her, but then again, any man who could, isn’t interested in the opposite sex.

The song fades into a new one, this time an easy listener: Changes by Black Sabbath. Not particularly a happy song, and it changes the mood in the room. “What’s up with the whole vampire lifestyle?” Zoë asks out of nowhere, after a long silence. Apparently, she doesn’t feel like singing anymore. She closes the faucet and the sound of the water falling down on the ivory colored tiles stops. “What?” Sam looks over at her, puzzled, although he can’t see her behind the glass. “There are about half a dozen empty coffee containers on the table.” Her voice sounds hollow in the empty bathroom, but Sam can hear her loud and clear. She opens the shower door and grabs her towel. It takes Sam a while to answer her question, as he’s trying to decide whether he should tell her or not. “I can’t sleep,” he answers shortly, choosing the latter. “Sure you’re not craving for human blood?” she jokes. Behind the blurred glass she shimmies in a pair of jeans and puts on her bra. “It’s nothing like that, really. It’s--” He pauses, scratching his chin, finding it difficult to talk about it, “- it’s Jessica.”

His thoughts wander as he folds his hands together and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at a single pixel on the screen. Suddenly, it’s not that difficult to disregard the attractive Zoë. For a moment he pictures her, his pretty Jess. Long, curly blonde hair, that beautiful smile. God, she was gorgeous in every way. He was in love with her, he still is. “Girlfriend?” Zoë assumes. “Yeah, well… She was,” he answers with difficulty. “Oh, I see,” Zoë grins, thinking she got it figured. She enters the main room while she buttons her white-grey plaid blouse. “She dumped you, huh?” Sam remains quiet and leans back in his chair. He takes a sip from his coffee, still staring into nothingness. Meanwhile, Zoë sits down on her side of the mattress and takes a bottle of painkillers from the nightstand, popping two pills to dull the pain. She pulls a pair of socks and black leather ankle boots out of a backpack underneath her bed, putting them on while she glances at Sam. “You dumped her and regret it?” Zoë tries again.

He swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the lump that is building in his throat. Then he looks her straight in the eye, only for a few seconds, before he averts them down to the carpet again. It spooks her, the sudden and penetrating gaze, and she pauses her actions. But Sam is not angry with the huntress, who is shocked by what she sees in the depths of his pupils. So much sorrow, so much guilt. She knows that look, she knows it way too well.

“She’s dead,” she realizes. Sam doesn’t need to tell her, but he confirms with a nod, almost unnoticeable. She looks down at her boots, feeling sorry for him for the first time since they’ve met. Showing those feelings isn’t something she’s comfortable with, so she keeps it plain. “Because of something we hunt?” she asks carefully. “Yeah,” he answers shortly, looking at the empty coffee container in his hand.

An eerie silence falls over them, as the image of Jessica returns to his thoughts once again, the vision clear as a bell. This time he doesn’t see her smiling, he sees her in the state that he found her. He grinds his teeth, trying to ban the haunting memory from his mind. While Sam struggles, Zoë observes him, noticing something about the youngest Winchester that feels familiar, something she recognizes. He’s grieving, trying to cope with the impossible. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, pronouncing the words somewhat like a doctor would do, monotone and distant. It’s about as compassionate as Zoë gets these days, and although Sam only encountered her a couple of hours ago, he seems to realize it. When he looks up, his eyes glisten. He doesn't say a word, but gives her a thankful nod. Although this is a painful moment, she cannot drop the question that led to the reveal. “I can’t help but notice, though, that you’re not completely honest with me.” She gets up from the bed and shoves the curtains aside, letting the bright sunlight in. Dean, facing the window, groans and turns his head. He breathes in deeply and lets out a sigh, but doesn’t wake up. When Zoë’s sure he’s still out, she continues. “You see, you say you can’t sleep. I think you can, but just don’t want to. Otherwise you wouldn’t need six large cups of coffee to stay awake,” she analyses smartly.

Sam glances at the empty containers on the table and scoffs; someone’s observant. Seems like she’s figuring him out in record time. Strangely, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Actually, he wants to tell her. Dean knows his little brother has nightmares about the dreadful event, but doesn’t know the whole truth. Sam doesn’t want to worry him or raise a red flag just yet, he’d rather figure out what’s going on first. But for some reason, the younger Winchester has the urge to open up. He trusts the huntress enough to reveal some of his darkest secrets, yet there’s a fair amount of distance between them to avoid awkwardness. Where that trust comes from, he’s not sure. It’s more than a gut feeling. If he didn’t know better, he would describe it as instinct. Sam looks over at Dean; he’s still sound asleep. Zoë notices. “You’re worried about him?” She huffs, looking back at the younger brother. “Don’t. You’ll need to set off a bomb before he wakes up.” Sam chuckles; seems like she’s got Dean figured out as well. He knows the two have more history than his brother let on, but he doubts that it was sexual, otherwise Dean would have bragged about it. Yet Sam can tell from the non-verbal communication that their bond lies deeper. Dean was there when her life got turned upside down, maybe he had a significant role to play in saving her from that demon. Whatever the origin of their strange relationship, it has them bickering like an old married couple.

Hesitation has him pondering. He trusts the female hunter, and on a certain level, so does Dean. But enough to allow her a glimpse at the skeletons in his closet? “I have these nightmares,” he blurts and then pauses, deciding that he might as well give her the whole story. “Let’s put it this way: I'd rather stay awake than have to experience them.” Zoë strolls through the room and halts on the other side, leaning against the wall; she seems interested all of a sudden. “Nightmares, huh?” she repeats, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What do you dream about?” “All sorts of things. Bad things happening to people I don’t even know. Except for the first one.” He stares at the floor again. The huntress knows enough. “You dream about Jessica, didn’t you?” He nods. “Thing is, I don’t just dream about her now...” A shuddering exhale leaves his lips. Here goes nothing. “I saw her die... days before it happened.”

Zoë doesn’t respond, yet continues to intently observe him. He’s unable to read the huntress, but surprisingly enough, she doesn’t seem shocked by the statement. Sam glances over at Dean again, making sure he’s still asleep. Not wanting him to hear the conversation, he continues with a lowered voice. “I can’t put my finger on it. How is it even possible that I see an event take place days before it actually happens? It almost seems like--” “- a vision?” she fills in. “Yeah,” Sam whispers. “Come on, it’s strange. Even for people like us.” “It is strange.” Zoë bites her lip again; it seems to be a habit. “Do you have headaches?” she wonders, out of the blue. Puzzled, Sam glances up at her, but she doesn’t blink. “Yeah. I do, actually,” he realizes. “But with everything going on with Jess and Dad--” “John?” Zoë intervenes. “Yeah. He’s missing,” Sam clears up. The huntress scoffs. “Aha. He’s good at that sort of thing.” Sam registers the cynical tone and narrows his eyes, but decides to ignore the comment. “This is different. He just took off one night, left Dean and disappeared. That’s when my brother came to Stanford,” Sam tells her. “To drag your ass back into the family business?” “Yeah. I guess that was his intention, but it isn’t the reason why I’m hunting again,” he says. “Mom was murdered, and now Jess? It’s too much of a coincidence, especially with Dad gone. Something’s up.” She walks back to the window and observes the parking lot outside. It’s a great day, the sun is shining brightly, smiling down at Rochester. It’s almost ironic, working on a dark case and discussing these family matters during weather so sunny; it doesn’t fit the picture. “Maybe something snatched him,” she mentions, not even considering that this conclusion might upset Sam. “No,” he counters fiercely. “Since when do monsters make such an effort to cover up the death of a hunter? When they take one of us, they leave a body for others to find.” She frowns at that, nodding slightly. Sam has a point. “You think he’s on a hunting trip?” “I think he’s hunting down the son of a bitch that killed Mom and Jess,” Sam speaks up.

Zoë continues to stare at the passing cars on the freeway and pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth, thinking about his assumption. The younger Winchester is probably right. John has always been obsessed with the thing that killed his wife and he will do anything to get revenge. No matter what the consequences, no matter what the sacrifice. She sits down on the bed again, this time not facing the window, but Sam. His girlfriend, his mother’s death, John Winchester’s disappearance, maybe even the nightmares, this could all be connected. Without making eye contact, she frowns and lets a sigh escape her chest. “Are you absolutely sure that the thing that killed your mother came back, Sam? ’Cause this could be pretty damn important,” she urges. This time she does observe him, her dark eyes boring deeply into his. He gazes back, hurt by the memories resurfacing, yet confident. “I saw my girlfriend, pinned on the ceiling, bleeding on me, after which she caught fire. The same way Dad saw Mom burn.” Sam pronounces his words slowly, his voice breaks halfway through the sentence. Zoë can imagine the scenario haunts him. He relives it, every day, every time he thinks of her. “It’s the same monster,” Zoë realizes, as the pieces begin to fall into place.

The young Winchester doesn’t respond, not until has picked up her biker’s jacket from the chair and heads for the door. “Where are you going?” “I’m gonna check on my Dave. I thought I heard a sputter in the engine last night,” Zoë explains, but halts by the door. “One more question.” Sam waits patiently, looking at her from where he’s seated. She seems to hesitate, but then continues without looking him in the eye. “Do you have them during the day?” “What? The nightmares?” he returns, puzzled. She nods, glancing up at him now. “Wouldn’t be nightmares then, would they?” he returns, not understanding her reasoning behind the question. “You’re right, never mind. I’ll grab some lunch on my way back in. Meanwhile, good luck getting that brother of yours out of his coma.”

The door closes, and Sam is left with his unconscious sibling. The younger Winchester shakes his head while he scoffs. She’s a strange girl, that Zoë Sullivan. She has a dark sense of humor; sarcastic, cynical. Arrogant, even more so than Dean; now that’s a new one. It doesn’t happen very often that they come across someone who can knock the older Winchester on his ass. Or is all that big talk just a facade she’s trying to keep up? She seems bitter, even cruel at times, but her heart isn’t all black, not yet. Sam believes there’s a lot more under the surface. Loneliness, anger, frustration, sorrow, fear; he knows those feelings and deep down, Zoë probably knows them, too.

There’s something about her that he recognizes. All three of them lost their normal lives because of something supernatural. Dean was four years old when he was introduced to this world so few people know about, and grew up in it. Zoë, on the other hand, was twenty-one when she found out. He himself stepped back from the hunting fields and was about to study law at Stanford, until a few weeks ago, that is. Sure, Dean might pretend that he embraces his hunting career and that ordinary is dull, but if he ever gets the chance, Dean would want out, too. All of them were normal up to a certain point in their lives, and that’s what they have to hold on to. It gives them the slightest bit of hope they need to keep going, believing that one day they might be able to return to that simple life. Whatever happens, though, things will never be the same again. People died and won’t ever come back. They will always know. They will always be looking over their shoulder. They will always be hunters.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part six here

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (7/?)

AO3

Unlike most of his peers, Damian isn’t excited at all about moving out. There’s a lot he loves about living at home-having a mom who cooks him his own meals, not having to pay bills, living withing walking distance of his best friends and a not having to do his own laundry. All those little conveniences are things he’ll miss sorely when that day comes, but the biggest reason has nothing to do with any of that. No, the reason he dreads moving out is because he’s not sure if he’ll be able to find a roommate that will put up with his constant singing around the house. Especially around audition time.

Which is why now, he’s practicing his rendition of Dressing Them Up in his bedroom, his mom being incredibly cool about the whole thing downstairs and Janis on Facetime, earbuds in and bopping along with him and giving him more enthusiasm than the actual audience probably will.

“You sound great.” She’s sitting cross legged on her hospital bed in a sweater and leggings, her face more bare than it was yesterday, but her eyes still bright and laugh lines creased around her eyes and mouth. She’s still her.

It was tough, seeing her for the first time, but weirdly, it wasn’t nearly as tough as he thought it would be. Once he got past the strangeness of the hospital environment and the little emotional hiccup she had with Cady, he knew she’s still her. Hard situation, uncomfortable new world, but still his Janis.

“You think so?” he says. “I don’t know about this song. All the forums say it’s a really good song to audition for the Emcee with.”

“And it’s your party piece,” she tells him. “Remember freshman year, you sang it for my grandpa?”

“I miss your grandpa,” he sighs.

“I’ll let him know. He calls me weekly now.” She shifts on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Before he even realises what she’s doing, he checks her arm. No IV in there. Why does that make him feel better? “So do you think you’re going to change it?”

“Should I?” he asks, looking through his music. “The audition’s tomorrow. I don’t know if I can research and learn a new song by tomorrow.”

“Then don’t,” she tells him. “You’re overthinking it.”

“You’re telling me off for overthinking,” he says rather indignantly, raising an eyebrow at her. “This is the same girl who texted me at 2 in the morning for my opinion on a dog meme to send to Cady.”

“I needed a second opinion,” she says.

“Thought you didn’t need opinions,” he teases.

“Maybe I need yours,” she says softly, the grin on her face lighting up the screen. “Dick.”

“Don’t even love you,” he replies, blowing a kiss softly to the screen. Janis giggles, hiding her face behind her hand.

“Okay, you have the scene worked out as well?”

“I think so.” He picks up the extract from his bed. He’s done it for everyone, Janis, his mom, Janis’ mom, Cady, even the plastics. He learned that day that Gretchen is amazing at giving weirdly specific compliments and also knows more about theatre than he’d have guessed. Maybe in another life she’d be a drama geek like him. “It’s just an audition anyway. They’re not looking for the finished product. Just potential.”

“And you my good man are 6’2” of raw mother fucking potential.”

“Janis, language!”

“Raw mother freaking potential. Sorry, mom.” Somewhere behind the phone, Janis’ mom says something and Janis chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I’m not allowed to cuss in here. Since this is a ‘children’s ward’.” She quotes the word with her fingers. “Which is apparently where I belong.”

“You are a children,” he reminds her.

“I am older than you!” she spits back, laughter shaking her voice. She leans back on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The joke slips from her face, leaving soft sincerity in its place. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous.” She raises her eyebrow at him, of course. By now she can see into his brain like there’s a little window on his forehead. It’s why he can’t bullshit with her, and conversely, why she can’t with him. “A little. I just really want a good role, you know. It’s our last show.”

“Which is why you’re going to ace that audition so hard,” she tells him. “Just don’t drink dairy in the morning and do your breathing before you go in. And stay away from the candy!”

“Pity you’re not here to remind me,” he says.

“True, but I did take the liberty of passing on all the info to Cady,” she tells him. “She knows what to do.”

“You’re a hero, babe.”

“Don’t I just know it,” she says. “Are you going to do the whole ‘dress for the part you want’?”

“Of course.” He runs over to his wardrobe and shows her the outfit he’d picked out for tomorrow, black silk waistcoat and black skinny jeans, his dance shoes in his bag. “What do we think?”

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” she tells him. “We need to bring waistcoats back to the collective again. I miss them.” Before he can answer, she looks beyond the camera, nodding along to a conversation he can’t hear. She casts an anxious glance at him, so quickly that he would have missed it if he blinked. “Okay. Okay, yeah fine, I know. Okay fine.” She turns back to him, letting out a long exhale that makes the hair on his arms stand up. He can’t help it; he has built-in parental instincts and they’ve been heightened ever since Janis went to hospital. So much so that even when she flashes up a peace sign and grins, it’s hard for him to grin back. “I have to bounce. Go get a good night’s sleep, ace it tomorrow, and tell the drama club that my services are still available.”

“I’ll let them know,” he says. He sits on the bed, tucking one leg under his body. He’s reluctant to let her go, their time together so precious now. “I love you, honey pot.”

“Love you more, bitch.” Her face freezes and then she’s gone. Not gone, he corrects himself. Just… not around for him right now.

“Okay,” he exhales, giving himself a shake. She’s fine. She said she was fine, she looked fine, she is fine. And she will be fine. She even said that she might be well enough to come see him in the show, all things going smoothly. The thought alone is enough to make him smile. Of course she will. The show won’t be for months anyway. He just has to get through this first. So he picks up his music and bounces down the stairs, ready to treat his mom and sisters to yet another rendition.

*****

It’s just after second period when the nerves do start to kick in. He’s not scared or intimidated, he can’t be he approaches auditions the way Cady would a calculus test, as a thrilling challenge to be overcome and a way to improve, whatever the outcome. But like he said to Janis, it’s his last year. He’s not gotten parts before but would be different. He wouldn’t throw a fit or leave the show if he didn’t get it, those types of divas make him cringe so much it hurts. But he can’t shake the idea that it wouldn’t be as special if he were in the ensemble in his last year. Besides, this is his part. Always has been.

“Hey.” He jumps off the floor, so wrapped up in his own thoughts he’d barely noticed the person sliding up beside him. He’s even more surprised when he sees who it is; Regina, wearing a lacrosse jersey over her white dress and a smile that’s uncharacteristically apprehensive. Since when did Regina George doubts? More to the point, since when did Regina talk to him? He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even know his name until Cady told him. He just assumed he was ‘Janis’ gay friend’ to her, nothing more. The same way she’s nothing more than ‘asshole Queen Bee I’d punch given the chance’ to him.

“Hi,” he says flatly. Her smile falters at his tone, and he has to hide his own smirk behind his locker door. Someone clearly isn’t used to not being given the golden treatment.

“So… how’s Janis doing?”

And the surprises keep on coming.

“You care?” he snorts.

“Yeah, I do.” Her tone is more defensive this time, the familiar anger that’s become her trademark making an appearance. Somehow, she sounds more natural this way. She shakes her head and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “You’ve talked to her recently, I’m guessing.”

“Of course I have. She’s my best friend,” he fires back, suddenly finding himself on the defence. Heat prickles on his skin and he wants nothing more than to get out of this conversation.

“I just… wanted to know how she’s doing,” she says, her voice quiet and her arms crossed over her chest. He closes the locker door and looks at her, trying to find some semblance of the ruthless predator he knows rather than the timid, vulnerable creature before him. It’s unsettling, seeing her like this, and he’s almost certain it’s a trap. “So how is she?”

“She’s great.” He slams the locker door closed and now it’s her turn to jump. “Janis is doing great. And she’s being let out for a week on Friday. So, she’s great.”

“O-okay,” she replies. She picks at her nails, her eyes growing wide. It’s only when she takes a step back that he can breathe again. She gives an attempted smile and it doesn’t look right on her face. “That’s cool. That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.” He puts his bag on his shoulder and pushes past her. Admittedly, he does feel a little guilty here. Regina’s a horrible person, but she’s still a person, right? Maybe she is worried about Janis, that there’s some sincerity beneath the make-up.

No. Of course not. And if Regina wanted his respect, she should have started back in middle school. And in any case, why is he even thinking about Regina? He’s got way bigger things to worry about today than her.

He checks his phone at lunch, finding nothing from Janis. Which is normal these days. Normal re-adjusted pretty quickly and she’s just finished another round right about now, so she’s probably resting from that. Besides, no news is good news, as his mom likes to say.

“Damian. Damian!”

“Woah, yeah, I’m here.” He shakes his head, grabbing the side of the table. He really needs to tune back in today. Cady is sitting beside him, her hand on his shoulder and her eyes big with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says, patting her hand. “Just daydreaming, kid.”

“Okay.” Silence settles over them, tight and uncomfortable. It hurts. Janis’ absence hasn’t rocked their friendship at all, but at the same time it’s felt like there’s been something missing since the start of the year. And that there’s constantly something going unsaid with them. “When’s your audition?”

“T minus four hours,” he tells her. “They’re after school.”

“Speaking of I see you’ve broken out the two-litre bottle of water.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asks. “Honey, I am a professional.”

“A professional drama queen,” she teases. “You think you’re ready?”

“As I can be. My mom and sisters all gave me a standing ovation,” he says proudly. “And I think my cat liked it.”

“I mean that’s all the validation you need,” she says. “When you go into your first Broadway audition, all you need to tell them is how highly your cat recommends you.” They burst into laughter as Karen and a forlorn-looking Gretchen sit down next to them, Karen holding the other girl’s hand and looking helplessly at Cady and Damian.

“Hey, what’s up, Gretch?” Cady asks. Without a word, Gretchen slides a crumpled sheet of math questions over the table and lets out a huff. Despite trying not to look, Damian can’t help noticing the score at the top, and the “see me” written at the bottom. Cady’s face falls instantly as she takes in a sharp breath. “Well, it’s just the second week. And it’s one homework.”

“Oh, what’s the use,” Gretchen sighs. “I’m never going to get it. It’s all so complicated. I wish I had a brain like yours, Cady. You’re super great at math.”

“Well you’re good at stuff too,” Cady responds.

“Yeah,” Karen agrees. “Like you’re super good at English. And at picking out clothes.”

“I don’t think Ms Gardner will appreciate me picking out clothes,” she says glumly. “Besides, I need to get better at math this year. For one thing, my dad will totally kill me if I get another C.”

“Well… hey why don’t I tutor you?” Cady offers, changing Gretchen’s entire demeanour in an instant. She sits up and gasps, a smile breaking out across her face and lighting up the cafeteria.

“You would? Really?” she squeaks.

“Of course! I mean, I did all this stuff last year, so I know it well. What do you say?”

“Oh, thank you so much!” She reaches out the table and grabs Cady’s hand, and judging by Cady’s face, it’s stronger than you might think for Gretchen’s slight frame. “This makes me feel so much better.”

“What does?” Regina sits down beside her, looking from Cady to Gretchen and funnily enough, avoiding Damian entirely.

“Oh, Cady’s going to tutor me in math,” Gretchen explains.

“Oh, cool,” Regina says. “You know that’ll look great on a college application.”

“Yeah. I mean of course that’s not the only reason I’m doing it,” Cady replies, smiling at Gretchen. “But I know. All I’ve heard since we got back is ‘college applications’.”

“Me too,” Damian sighs. “And I am not looking forward to telling Miss Meyer I want to do theatre.” He rolls his eyes and mimics shooting his head.

“Oh, hey Damian, Cady?” Karen asks. “Can I ask you something.”

“Um… sure?”

“What kind of muffins does Janis like?” The four of them all fall quiet, Damian looking to a confused Cady before back at Karen, who seems to be the only one who sees the sense here.

“Muffins?” he echoes.

“Mm-hm. Well, I want to bake her muffins to cheer her up, and since you two are her besties, I thought you’d know,” she explains. “Trust me, there’s nothing worse than bringing someone the wrong muffins. One time my cousin brought my other cousin muffins that weren’t her favourite and I was so, so ashamed for her.”

“Oh, okay,” he says. Karen nods severely, apparently taking the muffins incredibly seriously. “Um… she really likes raspberries I guess. Oh, and white chocolate. That’s one of her favourite combos.”

“Perfect!” she chirps. “I’ll start shopping for those tomorrow. I told my mom about her and she said she might like something sweet.”

“That’s… really nice,” he says. Life with the former-Plastics is a surprise even after spending the summer with them. He isn’t sure how ‘former’ he’d consider them, especially Regina, but they’re softer than they were a year ago. Gretchen more caring, Karen more kind. Or maybe they were always like that and he simply didn’t notice.

As they get up to leave, he takes out his phone and checks it. Still nothing from her.

He walks Cady to her next class, the two of them being on the same floor.

“Should I wait for you until your audition’s done?” she asks him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he says, patting her on the back. “Go live your life, little one.”

“Okay, but…” She rests her head on his shoulder and warmth sparks in his fingers and a stupid grin crosses his face. “Would you like me to wait until after your audition? We can go to the donut place after?”

“Did Janis tell you to do that?” Grabbing donuts after auditions to unwind has been their tradition since middle school.

“Well, yeah,” she says, shrugging innocently. “Just thought it would be cool. It’s what you always do, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course, totally. That’d be awesome.” They stop outside her history classroom. “Okay, I will see you later.”

“I’ll be in the library,” she explains. “You can meet me there?”

“Awesome blossom.” They have a quick high-five before he sets off down the hall to American Literature. As he goes, he finds a small but fierce sense of anxiety sparking in his chest and he can’t work out what it’s for. Probably the audition. After all, no amount of experience can chase away the terror of this process. Waiting around, learning and re-learning lines, sitting by his computer waiting for an email and fighting through crowds to see the cast list. He puts up a confident face, but that will never stop shaking him.

He takes out his phone again, just to check the time and location again. There’s nothing from Janis again, which is fine. Completely.

“Damian Hubbard.” He halts and looks up at the face of his Literature teacher, Mr Bock. He’s not great, but he’s not awful either. Once upon a time he may have actually liked kids. “Is that phone meant to be out during school hours?”

“No, sir,” he replies, sliding it back into his pocket and hoping for the best.

“Well come on, you’re in my class next and I won’t have anyone being tardy.”

“No, sir,” he repeats, doubling his pace and making it into the classroom, looking up at the clock as he does so. Just three more hours to go.

*****

He spends the time waiting for his slot breathing and doing small vocal warm-ups, enough to get him ready but not enough to irritate anyone else. As well as consoling a fearful looking little freshman kid. There are few things in the world that warm his heart quite as much as seeing new faces in auditions and watching them bloom during the show. He always makes sure to build connections with each and every one of them, taking up the role he wished someone had done for him. By the time Damian’s name is called, the freshman is grinning and his hands are nearly steady and he even whispers ‘good luck’ before he goes in.

“Afternoon all,” he greets the panel; Miss Petersen, the director/oldest drama teacher, and the perky little new one, fresh out of teaching college and rearing to go, as well as the choreographer and head of the drama club. Three familiar faces and one new, all smiling back at him. Something he tells every freshman; they want to cast you. He hands the sheet music to the girl at the piano and takes his spot, always remembering to smile and compliment her.

“Hi Damian, how are you?” Petersen asks.

“I’m great,” he replies. He clears his throat slightly, not having realised how tight it was. Did he not warm up enough? “Ready to go.”

“Okay so what song have you picked for us today?” the new teacher asks. Miss Hadsell, someone said her name is. She’s cute, with wide dark eyes and blonde hair in a messy braid. He wonders if she also takes art, he hasn’t seen her around the art room.

Then he remembers he hasn’t been in the art room this year.

“I have picked Dressing Them Up from Kiss of the Spider Woman,” he says brightly, bringing himself back. Here and now, that’s what matters.

“Good choice,” Miss Petersen says. “And you’ll be reading for the part of the Emcee?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay.” She grins at him, although it doesn’t really do anything to bring his focus back. What is wrong with him today?

He takes two deep breaths, and then another, and quickly shakes out his hands before nodding to the pianist. Once the song starts, he’ll be fine. Lost in the music, laser focussed. And he is. After missing the first note. He’s never missed a note before. Still, he manages to pick up the rest of it and keep going, throwing everything into it.

But it doesn’t feel enough. Like something is holding him back. Every time he’s sang this song before it’s come as naturally as breathing, the movements coming from him, not a character or persona. Now nothing feels right. Like he’s on a string and someone else is moving his limbs and every gesture is artificial.

By the time he finishes, it’s almost a relief. And he’s never thought that about performing.

“That was great!” Miss Hadsell says. “You must love that song a lot.”

“It’s an old favourite of mine,” he agrees. He can still bring this back. Maybe it was better than he thought.

He reads through two scenes for them before he’s asked to leave. At least those are stronger, partially because he knows them like the back of his hand. He feels more himself in them, or rather he feels more like the character. Even if his mind’s still a little fuzzy, it clicks for him. If only it could have happened earlier.

Rather than running right to the library and Cady afterwards, he sinks down onto a bench in an empty corridor, wringing his hands together. He doesn’t remember ever feeling that nervous or having an audition like that. Not even when he was a kid. Being in drama clubs since he could walk chased away the strong jitters that could affect him like that. So what happened in there?”

You know a voice in his head whispers. He goes to wave it off, but he can’t quite do it. Because what if there’s some truth in it. He’s worried about Janis, he’s only human. But he has it under control. She’s getting what she needs and she’ll be back with him by Christmas, and they’ll move forward like nothing ever happened. He presses his fist into his palm and bites his cheek. He’s handling it, and his own issues have never affected his performances before. Why would they now?

There’s no point in worrying now, he tells himself. It’s over, so just go home, tell everyone it was fine and whatever happens, happens.

It’s with that mantra that he gets up and heads to the library to pick up Cady.

*****

The next day is Wednesday and when he wakes up he’s suddenly immensely excited and won’t pretend he doesn’t know why. As his mom likes to say, ‘Wednesday is halfway to the weekend’. Which is enough of a reason to be happy in itself, but this means something more. It means it’s two days until Janis gets out of hospital and three days until they hang out again. They arranged it a few days ago; a movie night in her place, just like always, with blankets and pillows and junk food and an equal balance of musicals and old sci-fi and horror. So he can’t not be excited, so much so that it’s enough for him to block out the memories of his audition yesterday.

So when he half-walks, half-dances into the kitchen, it’s justified, and what’s more, his mom picks up on it.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she remarks.

“Sun’s shining, birds chirping,” he replies as he puts on the coffee pot and pops bread into the toaster.

“Did you talk to Janis at all last night?”

“A bit.” He pours himself a cup and one for his mom. All the milk in his and one sugar for him, black and two sugars for his mom.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” he says. “You know her. Tough as hell, fighting anything.” His phone vibrates in his pocket and it brings an instant smile to his face. “As a matter of fact that’s her now… oh…”

Janis’ message is a picture of the medical student, Jackson, fiddling with her IV, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Below is the caption ‘forgot to send you this yesterday. Thought you might enjoy’. And a winking face, of all the emojis.

‘Appreciated, thank you,’ he texts back. ‘Though I am debating the ethical ramifications of this.’

He probably won’t get an answer for a while. She tends to sleep in in the mornings.

“Her poor mother,” his mom sighs, seemingly to herself. He looks up at her, her hands tight around the hug and her head shaking. “I mean, poor Janis as well of course. No one deserves to go through that. But if anything like that were to happen to you…” She runs a hand through his hair, a fond smile along with her sad features. “God knows what I’d do.” There’s a small moment, a sigh, and then she kisses his head.

“Mom, you’re so mushy,” he sighs, not meaning any of it. Mushy is a well-established Hubbard trait passed from mother to son and he’s not ashamed of it, not at all. It’s that exact mushy-ness that gives him the capacity to love his friends the way he does and let them feel it every chance he can. He’d never trade it for anything. “I have to get ready. Don’t want to be late. Love you!”

When he gets into homeroom, Cady is bent over her notebook with her pens out, which strikes him as odd. Surely the study bee Cady Heron isn’t catching up on homework already. He’s not even catching up on homework yet.

“Hey.” He pulls on her ponytail, a far more amusing way of getting her attention that tapping her shoulder. She grins and looks up at him, stretching out her arms. “What are you working on?”

“Trying to make a schedule for tutoring,” she explains, handing it over to him. The page is divided into seven days and those into hour long slots, and true to form, everything is colour-coded. School is green, Mathletes is blue, and so-called ‘Janis time’ is purple. Her name is written in silver glitter pen rather than black ballpoint, and there’s a little star doodled in the corner. It’s nothing short of adorable, and Cady’s cheeks go pink as he knowingly catches her eye. “Gretchen says she can’t do weekdays, so I might squeeze her in on Saturday mornings.” She takes the page and tilts it, scrunching up her face. “Wonder how many more I can fit in.”

“How much tutoring does she need exactly?” he asks.

“It’s not just Gretchen,” she says, shrugging. “I just thought, well, why not expand it. See who else needs tutoring? I could make some money off of it. And it looks great on-”

“The college applications,” he finishes, earning an eyeroll from her. Still, they both smile. “I think that’s a great idea little slice. As long as no-one’s faking stupid to score a date with you.”

“Oh hush,” she chides, swatting at him playfully. “Besides, no one would dare. Half our grade is kind of terrified of Janis.”

“We all know she could still kick their collective asses.”

“Even hopped up on chemo, she could.”

“Yeah, completely.” Something shifts inside him, and suddenly his smile feels more plastered on that natural. Keep it together, he tells himself. “So has anyone gotten back to you about tutoring?”

“I haven’t put the word out yet,” she says. “Although I did make this!” She reaches into her bag and hands another page to him, this time with a photo of her in the centre and “Tutoring Services-Math and Science, specialising in calculus” printed below it, and her phone number and email address in a different, cursive font below. And true to form, she decorated it with little ClipArt lions and tigers. “What?”

“Nothing.” He hands her it back. “It’s just very you. And if I needed help with math, I’d call you in an instant.”

“You flatter me,” she jokes, putting it back in her backpack and dropping it on the floor. It catches his eye and he doesn’t understand why it would for a second, but then he remembers. She bought this backpack the day they went to the mall. She picked the white one with the little frogs. Janis had laughed at it, affectionately calling her a ‘permanent child’. That was the day Janis had passed out. The day she had overslept. The day before she had gotten that doctor’s appointment. And all the while, none of them knew the truth. None of them had put the pieces together.

“Damian?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yes, you should definitely do that.” Across from him, Cady’s eyebrows are shot up, her mouth half open. He’s blown it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Um… are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” He leans back in his chair and tosses his head. “Look at me, I’m the King of Okay, baby girl.”

“I know a bad Doctor Who reference when I hear one,” she tells him. She taps her pencil on the desk. If she knows a Doctor Who reference, then he can recognise a tell. She’s building up to something. “Look, it’s okay if you’re not okay. I mean what’s going on right now with Janis… it’s rough. It’s okay if you’re a little out of it. I am too.”

“Well that’s fine, but I’m not.”

The words shock him as soon as they leave his mouth. He wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t said them at all, rather someone behind him, and he wishes that were the case. He’s not like that. Those words are sharp and he’s rarely ever sharp. He made himself a promise never to be sharp or cruel or nasty unless absolutely necessary. He’s put in so much work over the years building up his cheerful, warm persona and it took a while for it to become fully natural. Apparently, he still needs work, because Cady’s face is falling at his outburst and she’s turning around him her chair and his gut is twisting and churning with guilt.

“Caddy, wait.” He reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s just-I’m so sorry, Caddy.”

“Hey.” Cady takes his hand and wraps her own around it, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay. Everything’s a lot right now.” Is it? Well, it is anyone can see that. But he’s coping, he’s sure of it. He woke up today so full of happiness he may have burst. How did he go from that to this in the space of an hour?

“Yeah,” he simply says. He runs his thumb over Cady’s knuckles, still shaken from what he said. He grips her hand tighter as if that can make sense of it. “I’m sorry.”

Despite Cady telling him it’s okay, a bad feeling follows him around all day, guilt combined with something else he can’t figure out. It leaves him feeling nauseous and uneasy all through his classes and even during lunch with his friends. It sits there all day, right in the pit of his stomach and wearing him out. By the time his first class after lunch starts, all he wants to do it go home. That very last bell is music to his ears and he barely remembers to bid goodbye to his friends before bolting out the door.

His hands are cold and unsteady as he pulls books out of his locker, his heart beating quickly and faintly beneath his shirt. He checks his phone, his messages empty, and makes a mental note to text Cady later before closing his locker and heading to the front gate. Hopefully by the time he gets home he’ll have come back to himself.

“Damian!”

Oh god, he thinks, suppressing a sigh. Ms Towers slips out in front of him, a file held close to her chest and her glasses perched on her head. She’s the school guidance counsellor, someone he’s never really interacted with. All of his issues were either fixed or in the process of that by the time he reached high school. She sure had her work cut out for her when the Burn Book was released though.

“Um, hi,” he says.

“Could I grab a quick word with you?” she asks.

No you cannot is what he wants to say. The school bell has gone, I’m free now.

“Sure,” is what he says instead, and his body follows her into her little office and even takes the seat she offers. It’s only when she sits down that he turns off autopilot. “Is this going to take long? Only I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“Not long at all,” she replies. She clears her throat, pretends to fix some papers on her desk, and leans forwards on the desk, her hands clasped beneath her. “Damian, what you’re going through is very difficult.”

“That’s indeed one word for it.”

“And the schoolboard is fully aware of any challenges you might be facing this year,” she goes on. “You probably know your teachers are all aware of the toll this may take on your schoolwork.” He hadn’t actually thought of that before. “But there are many support systems in place outside of the classroom. I want you to know that if you need any of them, we would be more than happy to schedule something for you. You could talk to me, or one of my colleagues on the care team, during one of your free periods maybe once or twice a week? Or if you want, our pastoral care team would be more than willing to talk to you in the school chapel-”

The image of Damian sitting in a church sitting on a pew talking to a priest about anything is so ludicrous to him that he actually bursts out laughing in her face.

He’s really being the resident asshole today, isn’t he?

“Sorry,” he replies, making a show of clearing his throat. “Something caught in my throat. You know how it is.”

“Oh, of course. I can get you some water if you like.” He shakes his head, taking his own bottle out of his bag, and gives her a gesture to keep talking. “Just if you want to avail of any of these services, they’re here. We’re all here for you Damian. So… do you think you might?”

“I appreciate the offer,” he says. His hand wraps tightly around his knee. “I really do. But I’m fine. I don’t need any school therapy or anything like that.”

“I don’t mean therapy,” she says. “Well, I could. But just if you needed a quick chat. This is a hugely stressful situation.”

“I know,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath in. He feels as though his insides are shaking, like a town caught in an earthquake. “I know. But I’m fine. I’m coping. And I have my own people anyway. I’ve got my friends; I’ve got my mom.” He stands on sore and unsteady legs and puts his bag on his back. “Besides, everything’s fine. Janis is coming home this weekend and we’re going to have a movie night and it will be exactly like it always has been. So we’re all good here.”

He lets her nod before bolting out the door. He doesn’t let anyone slow him down this time as he runs outside, down the front path and out the school gates, only starting to slow down when he’s off that street.

All the while, he doesn’t let himself think about Ms Towers’ offer, because doesn’t need it. He’s good. He’ll make himself good if he has to. He’s had enough practice at that after all.

*****

Saturday night takes forever to come around. The clocks on the wall tick by too slowly no matter where he is. Janis must get home late on Friday, because at some time after nine she posts a video of her dog cuddling her on her bed with the caption ‘I missed this boosh so much’. While Maxie takes up half the screen, he can see the smile in her cheeks. She looks good, healthy, happy, and that’s the main thing.

But finally the time comes, and he’s standing on her doorstep with a rucksack full of treats, DVDs, and the sleepover essentials. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, something he hasn’t felt since the early teens, and he has to hold back his arm lest he press the doorbell again.

“Hubbard!”

“Sarkisian!”

The moment he’s in her house, he envelopes her in a hug, letting her head rest in his shoulder and his hand rubbing up and down her back. His knees buckle in relief once she’s back with him, back hugging him. Sure he’s seen her before back in the hospital, but that was too alien. This is home. This is real.

“Missed you, dork,” she whispers.

“Missed you more,” he replies. When they finally let each other go, he sees her dressed down, blue and green galaxy leggings and a deep purple sweatshirt with a cartoon dinosaur on the front. Sleepover wear.

In the living room, Laura is setting up a bowl of popcorn and a try of tortilla chips, as well as a litre bottle of water and one of lemonade. She brightens up at the sight of him, hugging him lightly like you would a family member.

“Nice to see you, kid,” she tells him. “Hey how were the auditions? Janis told me they were this week.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies. It’s an effort not to wince. “They were fine. You know.”

“Well, we’ll be expecting front row tickets,” she tells him. “And a discount.”

“Sorry Laura no can do. Janis knows the importance of providing funds for the drama club.” Behind her mom, Janis nods as she fiddles with the DVD player.

“Oh, Janis, hon, let me do that.”

“It’s fine,” she replies, force behind the words. “I’ve got it. Besides you’re the one always asking me how to work it.”

“Fair enough,” she mutters. “Well, you two enjoy your night. I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Cool. Thanks Mom.”

“Do you want me to take the dog out?”

“We can keep him. I think he’s missed Damian anyway.”

“And I’ve missed him,” Damian adds in. Maxie is pawing at Damian’s legs, his head rubbing against his legs and his tail wagging.

“Okay, just make sure you keep him calm. Otherwise he won’t let you sleep.”

“We’ll keep him calm,” Janis promises. “He’s a good boy.”

Laura mutters something to the contrary as she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her. Janis rolls her eyes at her.

“She’s so mean to the baby,” she says, patting the ground. “Come here Maxie-boy. Isn’t mama just the meanest and nastiest to the poor baby boy?”

“Should I leave you two alone?” he asks, only half-joking. Janis looks up from where she was making kissy faces at her dog and chuckles.

“I missed him,” she says. “Can you blame me? Imagine not letting your dog into the hospital with you.”

“It’s lunacy all right.” He kneels down beside her, opening up his rucksack. “Okay, I brought chocolate peanuts, I brought mini pretzels, I brought sour gummies. And to top it off, I brought your faves… crispy NemNems!” He holds up the box of M&Ms, wiggling them in her face. She bats them away, grinning.

“Perfection. Okay, what do we watch first?”

“You pick. That’s the rule after all, remember?” he reminds her. “Your house, your rules.”

“Okay. Then I pick…” She holds up the DVD to him; A Nightmare On Elm Street and wiggles her eyebrows. One of her favourites, which just so happens to be one of his least favourites. He’s not a horror fan. It’s one of the few disagreements they have.

“Deal. But I may have to hide behind your hair.”

They settle themselves on the couch, a pair of blankets resting on the heater behind them and Maxie plopped on top of them for extra warmth. His little head is on Janis’ lap, demanding pets, and she is only too happy to oblige. He snuggles further into her with his paws up on his legs and whimpering whenever she so much as shifts.

“Someone missed you.”

“Yeah he did,” she replies, her voice fond. “You know when I came into the kitchen last night he peed himself because he was so excited.” She leans down to the dog and starts speaking in what they call her ‘Maxie-voice’. “Didn’t you to a peepee on the floor and Daddy had to mop it up?”

“Awww. Also ewww.” Janis digs him the ribs even as she laughs. Maxie is oblivious to this, his ears pricking up as he looks between the two of them. Damian cracks open the snacks, already commandeering the tortilla chips (what can he say, he’s a carb lover) and placing the rest of them delicately between them before opening the M&Ms and handing them to Janis.

“Oh, thanks…” She picks a few out of the bag while holding the dog down with the other hand, lest he eat something he shouldn’t.

When he looks back in the bag, it’s like no-one took anything. Sure enough, there’s probably only three or four in her hand right now. And they’re one of her favourite things in the world, ever. She’s hidden them under pillows at sleepovers before. Before he can stop, she notices him looking and gives him a shrug.

“I’m just not that hungry,” she explains, taking a sip of the water. “It’s fine.”

It’s fine. There you go. She said it’s fine, so it’s fine.

Despite that reassurance, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t stop taking peeks at her as the movie goes on. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t like this movie. She picks at the food she would normally be fighting him for, eating a pretzel here and there and nothing else, only long, slow drinks of water. The hair on the back of his neck pricks up at it, his instincts once again kicking in.

Maybe instead of instincts, he thinks he might just be paranoid. Janis said that she hadn’t had much of an appetite recently. It’s just a side effect of the medicine. Nothing to be worried about, surely, especially with the way her eyes are wide and her grin is excited and bright, the way she jumps at scares she’s seen ten times over and ‘ooh’s at Freddy coming down the hall. She even calls him a ‘magnificent bastard’. Why should he focus on what she’s eating when she’s still her and is in good spirits? With that in mind, he turns his attention to the movie, properly this time, accompanied by Janis’ rantings and commentary.

When he does lose focus on Freddy Kruger again, it’s nothing to do with Janis or ‘instincts’, but rather nature calling, courtesy of a half-empty lemonade bottle on the floor. He stretches his stiff legs and turns to let her know, probably having to tap her to pull her out of the movie… only to find her curled in on herself, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her hand rests limply on Maxie and her chest rises and falls slowly. How long has she been like that, he wonders.

“Janis?” he whispers. Nothing. “Janis.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch. That’s her for the night.

She looks younger in sleep, especially without make-up. And a lot less tough. It’s easier to see her as the little girl he met crying in a bathroom all those years ago. But she was tough even then, and she’s even stronger now. He rises slowly, careful not to wake her. Maxie is still awake, but antsy at sitting down for too long.

“Come here, kid,” he says quietly to him. He lifts Janis’ hand a little and coaxes him off her, patting his knees until he reluctantly climbs down. He settles beside her instead, sitting beside the couch like a little guard dog. “Good boy.” Next he takes the blanket from the heater and throws it over her, making sure to tuck it over her shoulders. That’s what moves her, and for a second he panics, but she only murmurs something and burrows into it. His heart swells in that moment, and he presses a swift kiss to her head.

“Good night, kid,” he whispers, even if it’s still light outside.

He doesn’t go home after that. He sticks around all night, despite Janis’ mother asking if he wants to go home. Neither one of her parents are surprised she fell asleep, telling him she’s tired a lot in the hospital. Her dad heaves a sigh before telling him that’s how they know it’s working. Damian nods, unsure of what else to say, and heads back to the living room. The idea of leaving her alone in there unsettles him for whatever reason.

He slides Cabaret into the DVD player, the volume at 2 and the subtitles on. At least if Janis does wake up, it’ll be to something she likes. For now he bounces between watching the movie and watching her until he gives up entirely. He changes spreads himself on the couch next to him, the light from his phone the only light on in the room. As he does start to doze off, a mere four hours after Janis, he starts thinking about what her dad said. If this is how they know everything’s working, then he can take it. Because it means she’ll be okay at the end.

#mean girls fanfic #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #damian hubbard #janis sarkisian #cadnis #cadnis ff #mean girls ff #despite that cadnis is barely in this chapter ....#fic: heart of stone #look its a damian pov!

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