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#to have this little disposable camera that she takes with her on their trips - their honeymoon. their rides along the coast. apple picking.
butmakeitgayblog · 4 months
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Lotd have mer y ADC looks so good with her new selfie. And she’s posting flowers as usual 🥹
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And wearing a white shirt. I'll say this, you can't accuse the girl of not staying consistently on brand 🥴
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I will say also, she's never escaping the Victoria Pedretti doppleganger allegations any time soon (although I guess it'd be the other way around since she's older. Whatever) Anyway they neeeeeeed to play sisters at some point cuz what the actual fuck are we doing here like what is the point of all this if that never happens
#anon#I'm sorry in advance but that last one gives me overwhelming AWTR vibes#Lexa's not much of a selfie taker by nature. she just doesn't see the point. “I know what I look like already Clarke-#i don't need to thousand pictures to remind myself. i bet I could even pick myself out of a lineup. no help needed“#cuz she's also a little smartass ya see#but this feels like such a AWTR Lexa thing to do#to have this little disposable camera that she takes with her on their trips - their honeymoon. their rides along the coast. apple picking.#and she just... takes pictures. of anything she feels like. moments that obviously meant something to her#or that's what Clarke assumes when she finds the thing tucked away in Lexa's bedside drawer when she finally packs up to move#2 days before she's heading to the other side of the country and she finds herself sitting on the edge of Lexa's bed holding this gd camera#that she's completely forgotten existed#an hour of trying not to throw up just touching it - an hour of driving to the nearest pharmacy that still prints these damn things -#and a day of waiting for the roll to get developed is enough to have Clarke walking around like the equivalent to an exposed nerve ending#the first half of the roll just makes her smile cuz it's exactly what she expected#pictures of leaves. bumper stickers she saw. shots of the ocean at sunset. a weird rock Clarke distinctly remembers Lexa calling ~majestic#too many shots of Clarke doing mundane things that Lexa apparently thought needed capturing#and then like a suckerpunch to the face... there's this#a shot that Clarke knows without knowing that Lexa took to finish out the roll#probably snapped in a moment of Lexa's little way of saying 'hi :)'#but all it feels like in her hands one last goodbye...#wow this got away from me#my bad#AWTR
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wileys-russo · 9 months
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the striker and her wingman II a.russo x reader
nervous lovestruck lessi >>
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the striker and her wingman II a.russo x reader
ella sighed deeply, tapping her foot impatiently as she folded her arms over her chest and shook her head, checking the time on her phone confirming that once again her best friend was late.
finally she saw the strikers white mercedes pull up outside the coffee shop, watching in amusement as the older girl struggled to parallel park despite the multiple angles of reverse cameras ella knew she had at her disposal, something she would be sure to take the piss out of alessia for later.
busying herself scrolling through instagram ella glanced up and spotted the familiar blonde mop of hair eventually parked and legging it across the road, tripping over her own feet and being honked at by a passing car her face paled and she held a hand up apologetically.
"tooney!" alessia scowled as ella doubled over, laughing loudly at the girls consistent streak of clumsy bad luck. "bout time you got here less, not like we left training at the same time!" ella calmed herself and rolled her eyes, nudging her shoulder into the taller girl who mumbled something under her breath and followed her best friend inside.
"aw jills not working." ella frowned as the bell chimed to signal their entrance, the coffee shop owned by their former team mate not empty but hardly full at three in the afternoon. but it had become a winter post training tradition for both alessia and ella to meet up here and have a hot chocolate, the two so dedicated to the routine they'd created a new superstition that if it didn't happen twice a week they would become genuinely fearful that they'd lose on the weekend.
"oh that means you actually have to pay, what a shame!" alessia teased as the two wandered over to the counter. "oh I uh I suddenly actually need to use the toilet, be right back!" ella darted off in the opposite direction as alessia rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone out to pay for their drinks, more than used to her best friends antics.
alessias eyes hungrily wandered the baked goods on display as she waited patiently at the counter, tossing up which one she was craving more until a voice snapped her out of it. "sorry for the wait! what can i get for you?" as the blonde looked up with a smile her stomach flipped and her mouth ran dry at the unfamiliar girl standing in front of her.
"you alright?" the girls eyebrows creased a little in concern at the lack of answer from the striker, alessia fighting to get her words out genuinely stunned into silence by the beauty gazing at her oddly. "did you order already? ooo can i get a brownie??" suddenly ella was back beside her, her friends loud voice in her ear snapping alessia back into reality as she felt her cheeks and ears flush bright red with embarassment.
"did you want anything else with that, drinks maybe?" the stranger hinted with an amused smile, angling the question towards alessia who nodded. "and that would be?" the girl asked when alessia didn't actually provide an answer, biting down on her lip to hold back a grin as ella glanced at alessia with a confused frown, the normally confident blonde acting very out of character.
"well well well if it isn't tooney and lessi russo!" jill sang out, suddenly appearing beside the mystery beauty as alessia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. "i see you've both met y/n, me blossoming new protege!" jill beamed, slinging an arm around the shorter girls shoulder who rolled her eyes playfully. 
"aren't proteges supposed to actually learn things? i don't think you've taught me anything except how to chat a customers ear off jilly." the girl grinned teasingly as jill pulled her into a headlock, ruffling her hair and letting her go. 
"these two are some of my best manchester regulars, they'll have two large hot chocolates and they're on the house. euro winners special!" jill winked as ella beamed and alessia smiled appreciatively. 
"maybe a brownie for the backheel queen and the match changer then?" ella asked cheekily, alessia ramming an elbow into the girls side with a glare, ella shoving her away as jill simply laughed and agreed, grabbing them out herself. "i'll bring these over to you." the girl assured as she ducked behind the coffee machine, ella thanking her and tugging alessia off toward their usual table by the window.
"less what is wrong with you man? are you a mute now or something?" ella asked with a bewildered look toward her best friend as they sat down, cutting the brownie in half and sliding alessia's bit over to her. "nothing, just tired after training." alessia shrugged it off, though as ella studied her, noticing the frequented glances toward their new barista, cogs began to turn.
"here we go! for the superstars, or so jill tells me." you announced playfully and ella didn't miss the way alessia's body tensed up nervously as you brought their drinks over, shooting the blonde a dazzling smile as ella once more thanked you for the both of them. 
"so you from around here?" the brunette asked with a friendly smile, wanting to continue to watch alessia squirm as she slowly put the pieces together.
"don't give my life story to anyone i don't know, stranger danger you know!" you teased, ella opening her mouth to retort a cheeky comment back but both girls heads snapped towards alessia as there was a loud smash and a squeal, the striker knocking her hot chocolate all down herself, the ceramic mug it was once in falling to the floor and shattering into pieces gaining the attention of everyone else around them.
"still clumsy as ever then i see less!" jill was at the table in a flash, sweeping up the pieces as you excused yourself to go and make alessia a new drink, the blonde apologizing profusely to jill and burying her face in her hands, wishing the ground would swallow her up as jill dismissed her with a wave, assuring it was a only a cheap mug anyway.
"okay less, spill it!" ella ordered firmly once it was just the two of them again, staring alessia down as the girl looked to her with a frown. "what was that?" ella accused taking a bite out of her brownie and almost moaning in pleasure. "what was what?" alessia continued, perfectly plucked eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"that! you're normally clumsy but you could barely get a word out." ella continued, alessia dismissing her with a wave of her hand.
"oh my god less, you like the new girl." ella grinned in realization, the blonde scoffing and assuring her she was wrong before gratefully accepting the second mug of hot chocolate from jill, admittedly a little disappointed it wasn't you who brought it over again, though at the same time appreciative that it avoided another opportunity for her to embarrass herself again.
"you like her less!" ella beamed louder, alessia hissing for her to shut up as her eyes darted nervously toward the girl in question, sighing a little in relief that she hadn't appeared to have heard her best friends cheers.
"shut up tooney!" alessia scowled unappreciatively, sipping much more carefully at her hot chocolate as ella wiggled excitedly across from her. "less this is so exciting you never have crushes, go get her number!" ella encouraged enthusiastically, practically bouncing in her seat as she spoke.
"no! don't be stupid." alessia grimaced, taking a bite of the brownie and glaring at her best friend. "the only stupid thing is that we're probably gonna be seeing a whole lot more of her and if you keep getting tongue tied every time shes near you you'll scare her off!" ella teased as alessia rolled her eyes again.
"hi! sorry to interrupt. but thought you might want a dry shirt?" alessia choked on her mouthful as you appeared, offering her a box to box employee top with a soft smile. feeling ella kick at her under the table and widen her eyes with a subtle nod, alessia shot her a dirty look and cleared her throat.
"yeah that would be great, thank you." alessia managed to get out, not missing the way your face lit up at the verbal response, happily handing her the shirt and excusing yourself back to the counter as a few customers walked in. 
"well go and change then you big dope!" ella rolled her eyes, making a shooing motion with her hands as alessia hurried off to the bathroom, tips of her ears still burning bright red.
finishing her hot chocolate and now left alone to her own devices ella glanced over and noticed you stood by yourself at the front, drumming your nails against the counter, unoccupied. grabbing her empty mug she took it over to the bench, placing it down as you smiled at her appreciatively and ducked out the back to place it in the sink.
"ella was it?" you checked as you returned, the midfielder leaning her hip against the counter and nodding in confirmation. "so you're one of those big fancy footballers then? have to admit I’ve not actually heard of you before, sorry for the knock to your ego.” you smiled teasingly as ella feigned shock that you didn’t know who she was. "scuse you i'm quite famous round here, local legend some may even say! was even papped eating a pastie once." ella bragged, puffing out her chest goofily, rewarded with your laughter. 
the two of you busied yourself with some pleasant small talk, alessia returning to the table now changed and frowning when she noticed ella was no longer there. "oh no." the striker mumbled to herself hearing a familiar burst of laughter and realising just where her best friend had dissapeared to.
"so enough about me, you'll have to google the rest sadly, celebrity things you know!" ella cleared her throat with a shrug as you rolled your eyes with a smile. "see the blonde over there i came in with? the clumsy one who doesn't know how to drink a hot chocolate." ella nodded toward her best friend whose attention was turned to the street outside as you hummed.
"a girl of very few words." you smiled as ella forced a sarcastic laugh in response. "one could only wish that was true. she just thinks you're fit, stunned her into silence one could say!" ella announced casually as your eyes widened a little at the confession, cocking an eyebrow toward the brunette in front of you.
"so, you seeing anyone?" ella smiled charmingly, resting her head on her chin as you chuckled. "cutting your friends grass just a little there with that question aren't we?" you smirked, ella scoffing and waving off your words. "you should be so lucky! i am in fact taken very happily with my boyfriend, but alessia is single." ella heavily hinted with a wiggle of her eyebrows making you laugh.
"well then why isn't she over here instead of you?" you asked with an amused look toward the girl in front of you. "well i would hardly be a good wing man if i let her now would i?" ella boasted with a wink as you simply hummed in response, the bell chiming signalling you had customers. 
"this has been lovely ella, but i have to actually do my job now!" you smiled as ella deflated a little at her lack of success but nodded in understanding, leaving you to it and returning back to the table. "what was that about then?" alessia asked, worrying over what her loud mouthed lack of filter best friend might have said in her absence.
"just a friendly chat, i'm not stealing your missus less don't worry!" ella grinned as the blonde rolled her eyes, finishing the last mouthful of her hot chocolate as the two fell into their usual conversation, discussing everything and anything until before they knew it the cafe had emptied out and they'd realized it was closing time, also not something new to either of them as this was often the case for the two.
"well looks like i've got a new employee then have i!" jill teased, nodding to the shirt alessia was wearing with a grin, chatting with her two former team mates about their upcoming derby match tomorrow, getting in all the puns and sledges jill could manage towards her friends beloved united, forever a die hard former city player.
excusing herself to balance the register and continue closing the tall girl exchanged hugs with the two and strode away, ella scurrying off to use the toilet before they left. "here, on the house." no sooner had jill leave did you suddenly appear making alessias knees wobble, placing down a brown paper bag in front of the blonde with a soft smile, disapearing as soon as you'd arrived.
curiously alessia opened the top of the bag and grinned seeing four brownies stashed away inside, looking up to try and thank you but you were obviously out the back somewhere and she sighed a little in disappointment as ella returned and the two of them exited the cafe, the bell chiming after them.
"oo what have you got then?" the bag was rudely taken from her grasp as ella nosily shoved her head inside as they walked over to alessias car, the blonde quick to snatch it back as ella whined. "less!" the girls eyes widened and she reached once more for the bag as alessia held it away from her, firmly stating they were hers.
"no you dope! look on the other side." ella grinned and alessias eyebrows creased, flipping the bag around her stomach lurched into her throat seeing a number scribbled across the back. "ha! it did work, ultimate wingman ultimate wingman ultimate wingman!" ella chanted as she danced around like an idiot, pumping her arms in the air like a madwoman.
"what worked tooney?"
~
"so how's things with lovergirl!" ella teased the next morning, sliding into the passenger seat of alessia's car as the blonde picked her up for the match. "less please tell me you messaged her." ellas face dropped at the guilty look from her best friend who picked at her fingers, refusing to meet her gaze.
"alessia! she's gonna think you're not into her you idiot!" ella punched the girl in the arm with a shake of her head as alessia scowled, rubbing at her arm. "i don't know what to say!" the striker defended, slumping back into her seat with a groan, having put your number into her phone and stared blankly at the message icon, continually overthinking what she should say until the clock ticked over into the next day and alessia forced herself to try and sleep.
"oh here's an idea, how about you start with hello?" ella mocked with a shake of her head in disbelief as alessia sighed deeply, starting up the car and glancing over her shoulder before pulling out. 
"you are hopeless less, no wonder you've been single for so long. as your wingman theres only so much i can do for you before you actually have to put in some work!"
"yeah alright tooney, i get it."
~
alessia sighed as she stepped out of the shower, muscles aching from an intense ninety minutes played, united having just come away with a win after a grueling derby. the girl wasted no time changing into her tracksuit and scraping her wet hair into a bun, packing everything into her kit bag which she slung over her shoulder.
having taken her time in the showers the majority of alessia's team mates had already left for the evening, ella grabbing a lift from millie as the girl had absolutely no patience and did not appreciate the time it took alessia to go through her post match routine.
waving a tired goodbye to nikita and ona who were sat chatting alessia made her way out of the locker rooms, the stadium now mostly emptied out as a few lone stragglers hung around chatting or celebrating the home teams win.
"you know when a girl is told that someone thinks shes fit and she then goes out of her way to give them her number and some free brownies, its a little humiliating when you don't receive a message." alessia jumped at the sudden voice, turning to see you sat up on the seats beside her, knees tucked into your chest as alessias heart began to hammer in her own.
"what are you doing here?" was all the blonde could manage to get out, wincing at how unintentionally blunt it had come out as your face dropped even further, pointing up behind you where jill was sat a few rows up, chatting excitedly with a few people sporting city jerseys, clearly soaking up the attention.
"my ride is busy reliving her glory days." you answered softly, alessia nodding in understanding as she awkwardly shifted her kit bag on her shoulder. "sorry if i made you uncomfortable." you continued when she didn't say anything, eyes silently awaiting a response as alessia opened and closed her mouth a few times, heart beat accelerating as she found herself lost in the galaxy of color that were your eyes, her already weak legs wobbling a little.
"good talk." you mumbled with a frown, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at your obvious misunderstanding of the situation, pushing yourself to sit up and moving to walk up and away toward jill.
alessias eyes widened and she felt her body go rigid with panic. "wait! are you busy right now?" the blonde blurted out, hands fiddling nervously with the strap of her kit bag as you frowned a little. "why?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest with a firm stare.
"are you free to go get dinner? i promise i did mean to message you, but i just...well i didn't know what to say and i didn't want to scare you off but i guess i already did that by not actually replying and well i-" alessia began to ramble as your face softened a little at her obvious nerves.
"sure." you cut her off with a small smile, alessia looking to you in surprise her words falling short. "really?" alessia asked with wide eyes and your smile grew, nodding in confirmation. "unless you're not sure?" you teased as alessia frantically shook her head, promising you she really meant it.
"so do you mean like we go now?" you asked, alessia agreeing before she glanced down and realised she was only clad in joggers and a hoodie, wincing a little. "i'm not one for fancy dinners on first dates." you gently assured seeing her nerves spike up again. "a date?" alessia spoke up, your face paling as you one again began to stress you'd misunderstood.
"a date! yes, a date. just maybe somewhere...casual?" alessia winced again gesturing to her man united getup with a guilty smile, you letting out a small sigh of relief. glancing up behind you and seeing your boss still engaged actively in conversation you made the decision you would just send her a text as alessia offered to drive the two of you. 
"jill might fire me for getting into a car with a united player you know." you grinned teasingly, jogging down the steps to meet her as the two of you walked off into the car park. "don't tell me you support city." alessia shook her head, nerves slowly settling the more she actually forced herself to push through them and speak with you.
"i don't normally watch football at all, but jills doing her best to force me into it." you admitted with a smile, eyebrows raising in surprise as you noticed alessia unlock her very expensive looking car. 
"well if this date is going to work i just might need to change your mind." alessia teased, tossing her kit bag in the back and your stomach flipped as she opened the door for you.
~
fast forward a few months and alessia had indeed stuck true to her word, over the course of your rapidly blossoming relationship forcing you to watch countless football matches including all of last summers euros, talking your ear off about the rules and regulations and tactics.
the blonde which was now your girlfriend, to be exact.
the taller girl was just as awkward asking you that question as she was the first day you met her, the sweet ramblings as she danced around the actual direct question of your official relationship status only making your affections for her grow stronger as you'd tugged her down into a kiss, murmuring a yes against her lips and putting her out of her misery as she grinned, pulling away and wrapping you in a suffocatingly tight hug.
it was how you found yourself now kitted out in a lionesses jersey with her last name spread across the back of your shoulder blades, stood in her flat in her kitchen cooking her dinner as you awaited your girlfriend to return from training.
you didn't have to wait long as you heard her keys jingle in the front door, her timing perfect as you'd just finished dishing up her favourite pasta, knowing all too well that was her go to after a thursday evening of grueling double sessions.
"hello gorgeous." you greeted sweetly with an adoring smile as the exhausted looking striker dumped her kit bag and shoes by the door and padded tiredly into the kitchen. "hi." the taller girl sighed into your shoulder slumping into your awaiting arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she gripped onto you tightly.
"dinners ready but do you want a shower first? it can easily be reheated." you murmured softly, rubbing comfortingly at her back as she shook her head, mumbling that she'd already showered at the gym as you walked the two of you over to the lounge, gently pushing her to sit down and refusing her offers of help, demanding she stay put as you grabbed your bowls of dinner and brought them over.
thanking you with a peck on the lips alessia settled back into the lounge, a comfortable silence falling between you as you ate, both engrossed in succession, the show recommended to you by alessia's national team mates during her last camp.
bowls long washed up and the fourth episode of your show in a row now finishing you glanced down to see the blonde sprawled out on top of you had fallen asleep, arms wrapped tightly around your torso as her head rested on your chest, your own hands tucked up the back of her top, nails scratching softly up and down her back.
"baby." you whispered softly, shaking her gently as her piercing blue eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily she lifted her head a little. "time for bed, come on." you smiled, heart melting as she nodded tiredly, but collapsed back on top of you and burying her face in your neck. 
"lessi baby, come on your neck and back are gonna kill you tomorrow if we sleep on the lounge again." you warned gently, shaking her again as you felt her exhale deeply into your skin, laughing a little at the ticklish sensation as the taller girl tiredly pushed herself up, rolling off of you and forcing herself to her feet with another tired sigh.
shooing her off upstairs you rushed around to flick off all the lights and lock the doors of her flat up, spending more nights here than in your own flat you were well accustomed to everything. by the time you made it to her bedroom your face softened seeing the lamp left on and her body already tucked away beneath the blanket.
rummaging around in her wardrobe you located your her favourite hoodie, slipping the oversized material over your head as you stepped out of your slippers and lifted the edge of the duvet, reaching over the flick off the lamp and shuffle properly into bed you blinked a few times, eyes adjusting as the room was plunged into darkness.
"your legs are freezing." you heard the blonde beside you grumble as you pressed yourself into her, the taller girl flipping onto her side as you tucked yourself as tightly into her as you could. "warm them up then." you wound her up by rubbing your bare legs against hers as she whined tiredly and kicked at you, empty threats of throwing you out of bed dropping from her lips.
"i better wake up to breakfast in bed and a coffee for having to put up with you." alessia sighed as you smacked at her in the dark, a smile curling onto the strikers face as she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. 
"you'll be waking up to an empty bed, i start at five tomorrow baby." you reminded, feeling her body vibrate with a loud groan, knowing that meant she too would be woken up early from your alarms. "remind me to have a stern word with jill about your roster." the striker huffed in annoyance, tomorrow being her day off she had planned for a sleep in all wrapped up with you, her plans now rudely ruined. 
"sure my love, you do just that."
~
she didn't, of course.
but she did as always pick you up at lunchtime when your shift finished, your mood instantly lifting as you exited the cafe, tired from the early open shift and grateful to avoid the incoming lunch rush, spotting the blonde leant against her white mercedes waiting patiently.
"hello beautiful." the strikers own body perked up as she greeted you with a sweet kiss, opening your door for you before hurrying around to her own side. "picked you up some sushi." alessia gestured to the paper bag by your feet, grinning at the excited squeal that came from you at the surprise.
"thank you love you didn't need to do that." you beamed leaning over to kiss her cheek appreciatively as she stretched an arm over the back of your seat and glanced behind her to reverse out of her spot, your stomach flipping at how attractive you found the simple maneuver. 
"do you know what tooney asked me to do today?" alessia spoke up as you hummed, swallowing your mouthful of food and reaching over to offer her a piece of sushi which she happily accepted. 
"thank her in front of the entire team for and i quote 'being the god of love who got us to get together'." alessia shook her head with a roll of her eyes as you tilted back your head letting out a loud belt of laughter, having grown incredibly close with your girlfriends best friend.
"well, if she hadn't of come over to talk to me that day with the brownies - you wouldn't have my number."
"surely you're not going to take her side? she's already insufferably annoying on a good day, i don't need the two of you ganging up on me!"
"lessi you were an absolute nervous wreck - do i need to bring up the hot chocolate incident?" 
"i was not! i was just..." 
"hopelessly in love with me from day one, it’s okay to admit aloud, it’s healthy!”
"god i'm putting you on a ban from spending time with tooney, she's done no good for this ginormous ego you're developing."
"ego! at least i had the confidence to give you my number, not that you used it."
"i have apologized for that over a hundred times and you agreed to stop bringing it up, especially around our families to make fun of me!"
"no but back to your point, i think you need to give your wingman some credit." you grinned as alessia pulled into her driveway, cutting off the engine and pouting at you with a frown. "maybe just...a tiny bit." alessia used her fingers to create a minuscule gap, causing you to playfully roll your eyes at her.
"wasn't her fault you were just too stunned by my ethereal beauty, you're only human." you teased as the two of you exited the car, alessia hurrying to grab your bag for you as you tossed the rubbish from your lunch into the bin which sat by the curb ready to be picked up tomorrow morning.
"here we go with this ego again, what am i going to do with you?" your body was pressed against the front door the moment you stepped inside, the taller girl glancing down at you with a smirk.
"call your best friend and thank her for me even giving you a chance russo." you breathed out against her lips, ducking under her arm as she leant in for a kiss and striding off into the living room, changing into a run as you heard alessia yell after you, begining to chase you around the house as the sounds of your laughters bounced off the wall.
"got you!" you squealed as the athlete easily cornered you, tackling you onto the lounge and pulling you to lay on top of her, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck and tugging your lips to meet hers, hand on the back of your head meaning she was in full control of when you pulled away.
though as much as she may have verbally disagreed, the striker knew that deep down without her wing man, her life would be significantly less happy or fulfilling without you in it, so maybe she did owe ella a small thank you.
but you would never hear her admit that out loud.
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Hello Author!! I've read a lot of your fics and I love your work!! Even though I would like the roles to be reversed from time to time, it's always up to Weems to take care of others a little bit.Return of the elevator (return the device if the English do not have the same expression as the French, or perhaps the translation will be understandable 😅) I think it would be a nice idea To work, But that's not the reason for my presence here, I read in one of your fictions, I no longer have the title in mind but it's when the reader is tired and weems takes care of him, you mentioned From a difficult student for whom the baby monitor is useful, I have a question, what is the use of the baby monitor? Is it like a camera with microphone to see and speak with the student if she Is busy elsewhere? I really can't imagine what use this is for him but hey my request is a story about why wednesday ended up sleeping at weems and how the baby monitor Has been used ? I'm really very, very curious about this situation, thank you for reading, have a good day, author!
The Baby Monitor
Pairings: Ms Thornhill x Weems x Wednesday (platonic)
Word count: 1.9K
Summary: Wednesday has been too busy to listen to what she needs. Sooner or later, she is forced to listen.
TW: passing out, not eating, not sleeping, illness
A/n another Wednesday fic!
“Wednesday come on, you have to eat. I know this investigation means a lot to you, but you need to take care of yourself, or you’ll be useless.” Enid begged.
“Im so close. I can feel it. Enid, go to lunch I will join you soon.”
“This is the third day you haven’t shown up to meals wends you can’t keep doing this.” Enid frowned before huffing and storming out of the dorm.
Enid was at the end of her patience. Wednesday had been working non-stop for days. She hadn’t been eating properly or sleeping, but because her grades stayed the same nobody else really seemed to notice too much. Enid was considering going to weems about the issue. If there was one person who could tame the addams it was her. Since all of the drama last semester Wednesday had been slightly more accommodating to the British principle. But that wasn’t to say she would listen to her without a fight.
Lunch came and went with no sign of Wednesday at all. They both had botany after lunch and despite all the fuss Wednesday was yet to skip any of her classes. She probably knew it would warrant a trip to weems. After all the issues with Ms Thornhill were cleared up, she was back to her old self, the bubbly easygoing botanist and dorm mum they all knew and loved.
Enid sighed in defeat and gathered her things. She disposed of her lunch scraps and tray and shouldered her bag, heading off in the direction of the conservatory.
Taking her seat, she watched Wednesday enter. She seemed slightly off kilter. Mildly sluggish and more pale than normal. She was squinting as if the light hurt her eyes and yet she almost seemed as if she was sick and downplaying it. Enid wouldn’t be surprised with how little sleep she had been having. Even an addams body was more susceptible to illness when run down. Wednesday flopped down in her seat without her usual poise or grace. Enid raised a brow, she looked much worse than she had in the dorm. The trip to class seemed to have sucked the life out of her.
Slouching in her seat she rested her head on her folded arms on the desk. Before she knew it enid realised Wednesday’s breathing had evened out slightly. But her sleep was short lived. Ms Thornhill called on the raven to come solve some questions on the board.
Wednesday lifted her head wearily and glared.
“Now Miss Addams.” Thornhill said tapping her foot impatiently. Wednesday gave a tired sigh and stood, swaying. After slowly making her way to the front one step at a time, she swayed badly. Ms Thornhill came to her side. Putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Wednesday? Wednesday, what’s wrong honey?” She asked but the words were garbled to the young Addams. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body dropped like a stone. Ms Thornhill was quick to catch her in her arms. Slowly she sank to the floor, lowering herself and her student to lean against the wall. She sat against the front of the room with Wednesday tightly in her hold and mostly draped across her lap, unconscious.
“Enid.” Ms Thornhill said in an urgent voice. “Get Ms Weems in here this instant. The rest of you wait outside. Now!” She said as she kept her tight hold on the addams. She looked so peaceful yet so tired even while she was unconscious.
The class scrambled to carry out the instructions. Ms Thornhill knew the nurses were away for a conference, Ms Weems had sent a staff wide email that morning about it. She had said if any issues arose to contact her directly. This defiantly counted as an issue.
Ms Thornhill sat and waited. Wednesday’s head was in her lap as she traced her fingers over her pale face to remove the small hairs from her face.
After a few peaceful moments of quiet the door opened.
“Marilyn?” Came the accented voice of the principle.
“Im here. Shes still out cold.” The botanist responded.
A moment lapsed before Ms Weems face appeared over the desk and she came around to join her staff member on the floor.
She laid a gentle hand on Wednesdays forehead. “She seems a bit warm. Do you know if she felt ill at all?” The principle asked with concern.
“Not that i know of but she seemed exhausted.”
A tentative knock sounded on the door and both teachers turned to see enid standing there awkwardly.
“Ms sinclair? Do you have something to say?” Ms weems asked with a raised brow.
“She hasn’t been sleeping. Shes been too busy with her investigations and i don’t think shes eaten either. It’s been about four days and she’s not taking care of herself. I’ve been trying to get her to listen and i was going to come to you this afternoon, honest. I didn’t know it was this bad or i would have done more sooner.” Enid said talking a mile a minute and wringing her hands.
Weems brow softened. “Thank you, Enid. We’ll take it from here. You’ve been more helpful than you realise. You're a good friend.”
Enid nodded and left again.
“Well, she doesn’t look like she’s waking up anytime soon and it seems she’ll be in need of close care for a while. I’ll take her to my quarters for her recovery. She would simply escape if she was left in the infirmary. I won't be surprised if her fever is the beginnings of an illness from a weakened immune system. Most likely from lack of sleep. I’ll take her off your hands Marilyn.” Ms Weems said and smiled.
“I’ll drop by after class.” She said and gently slipped her arms under the addams girl and passed her limp from to Weems.
Weems stood up straight and propped Wednesday’s form up so her head rested in the crook of the headmistresses' elbow, with her other arm supporting her legs.
The principle expressed her thanks and swiftly and fluidly swept from the room, ignoring the looks from her students as she walked to her office with the addams unconscious in her arms, looking pale and sickly.
After making it into the haven of her office she gently set Wednesday down on the couch so she could set up the spare bed for her before she woke up.
Rooting around in one of the spare drawers she found what she was looking for. A small plastic white device that had been left in storage by the previous Principle. A baby monitor. No way was she leaving the addams without being able to monitor her closely. She set the device down on her desk near Wednesday, she took its counterpart with her to set up the room.
After she had finished wrestling with the fitted sheet, she threw on the final covers. Just as she begun tucking in the top sheet, she heard rustling on the monitor. Swearing softly, she hurried from the room back to her office.
As she arrived, she saw Wednesday stand up, bracing herself on the back of the couch to stay upright as she tried to escape. Weems crossed her arms.
“Miss addams! Where do you think you’re going?!” She said and her resolve softened as she noticed the glassy look in her students' eyes. In hurried steps she came over to the young troublemaker who looked at her blankly.
She placed a tender hand to her forehead before moving to her cheek.
“Your fever has risen.” She said, smoothing down her dress. “No matter, we will deal with it. Come now.” She said and grabbed the monitor before guiding Wednesday by the elbow to the room. The raven walked on wobbly legs and uneven steps from a few paced before weems simply scooped her into her strong arms.
“Ms weems!” Wednesday mumbled in protest, her eyes drifting closed as she leant into the headmistress who hummed in a mild concern.
“Come now Wednesday, you can barely stand. To bed with you. I’ll have the cook bring some light food and we’ll get some medicine into you. And in future don’t be so difficult. If you need help with anything, simply ask my darling. We don’t need this to happen again you stubborn girl.” She scolded laying Wednesday down in the bed before tucking her in. Wednesday simply hummed weakly in response making Weems frown.
“Rest now darling. I’ll contact the chef.” She said and set down the monitor on the bedside. Wednesday opened an eye to glare at it.
“I don’t need that.” She said closing her eyes again.
“Wednesday addams, you will remain here until i see fit. Whilst you remain in my care you will keep that monitor on and in the room. Break it and spend a week in detention for destruction of school property.” She lectured before softening slightly. “Im here to help you, don’t be so stubborn. If you would rather have your mother look after you that can be arranged. And I’m sure she will be far more doting than i.” She said and smiled down at Wednesday, who grunted and rolled over.
“No.” She huffed.
“Goodnight darling I’ll be back soon. Rest up.” She said and left.
After contacting the cook the make Wednesday a light chicken noodle soup she grabbed her laptop and came to sit by Wednesday's bedside while she worked.
After a while she heard a knock and went to get the food from the cook. Gently she woke up Wednesday who pouted which was borderline cute with her pink flushed cheeks and nose. Weems frowned at the glassy look in her eyes and lifted a glass to her lips.
“Drink.” She instructed and Wednesday glared before greedily gulping down the water.
“Not so fast darling, leave some to take your medicine.” Weems said and handed Wednesday two small white tablets. Wednesday glared at them but took them before weems lifted the spoon to her lips. Wednesday drew the line there, taking the spoon from weems. But her hands shook, and no soup stayed on the spoon. Weems gently took the spoon back and Wednesday relented.
“Let me darling.” She said and Wednesday allowed the headmistress to spoon feed her the broth like a child. After she had eaten Weems insisted, she rests some more as she settled the Addams back into the nest she had established. As she rested once more Weems gently typed out some important emails on her computer, still sat on the bed with her legs up and lent against the headboard. She had promised Mortica she would look after the young addams and that was exactly what she planned to do. She was learning a fair bit about Wednesday. For example, she was quiet the cuddler in her sleep Weems realised as her leg was trapped by Wednesday who had curled into her side and wrapped her pale arms around Weems thigh. Weems smiled down at the sleeping girl and drew slow circles on her back as she slept.
Weems may not have ever had children, but she loved Wednesday like her own even if she wasn’t able to show it often, she cared for her. And she would make sure Wednesday was well enough soon to receive the lecture of her life.
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hankwritten · 5 months
Text
A Tavern Named Keep [5/6]
Demoman-centric Modern AU
[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]
In a small uni-town in New Mexico, DeGroot Keep serves liquor and succor to an eclectic yet loyal group of patrons, and has for many years. The Keep owes its success to its equally colorful owner, who always seems to know what you need—whether that be a stiff beer or a word of advice. But, between setting up his patrons or sifting through his friends’ problems, will Tavish remember to take care of himself?
“Now! If you turn your pathetic civilian eyeballs that have never witnessed the horrors of war to your right, you will see the nesting grounds of the Lesser Prairie-Chicken.”
Those actually paying attention to Jane’s tour as he guides their overlarge hiking group through the wilds of Valles Caldera National Preserve rotate their binoculars as indicated. This group includes Miss Pauling, (her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she scribbles furiously in her newly purchased Billious Hale’s Field Guide to North American Birds, and How To Break the Spine of Every One!) Mikhail, (two wrist straps hack-jobbed together in order to hold his disposable camera in place), and, surprisingly enough, Scout, (practicing how fast she can capture each specimen in her sketchbook before they fly away. Already she has six birds, two burrowing rodents, and one ‘yeti’ (at Ranger Doe’s suggestion.))
“Tympanuchus pallidicinctus is a fearsome foe to meet in its natural habitat,” Jane goes on. Every time he speaks, the various bits and bobs of navigational equipment dangling from his neck jingle; the compass clatters into the magnifying glass, which swings into the pocketknife, which knocks the binoculars, so on and so forth. Hearing even Jane’s famously robust voice over it all is a struggle. “The caldera is their hunting ground. They climb to dizzying altitudes in order to locate prey up to eight times their size, then dispatch them quickly by dropping objects of significant weight. When it reaches terminal velocity, the pathetic maggot-sucker is turned into gibs on impact!”
“Object of significant weight,” Mick, a significant amount of woodsman’s supplies strapped to his back as well, repeats suspiciously. “Like what?”
“A rock! Or perhaps even a coconut!”
“A coconut? What would a bloody coconut be doing in the middle of the bloody desert?”
“This is not a desert, it is an elevated watershed meadowland! And maybe the coconut rolled here!”
This debate never makes it to Pauling, who remarks cheerily as the two squabble on, “this really was a good idea, getting us all out of Teufort for a bit. I pretty much never get to go anywhere with nature. Or fresh air. Or sunlight.”
Before Tavish can comment, Scout is already pouncing like a Lesser Prairie-Chicken on an unfortunate bobcat.
“Yeah yeah, me too,” she says. “Just like, never get out you know. Never any grass where I was growing up except the abandoned square where my brothers and I would play baseball, and now I’m too busy with school but hey! We’re out here now ain’t we? And look, I got a little bird book too. Except I’m drawing in mine instead ‘a writing, I don’t got the way with words you do, but isn’t it cool we match?”
Scout holds up her sketchbook with blithe expectancy.
Such blithe expectancy, there really is no possible way Pauling can respond with anything approaching the same level of zeal. “Yeah, Scout,” she says. “Really cool. Super awesome that we both…own books.”
This lukewarm response does not, in fact, curtail Scout’s enthusiasm. “It is, yeah. Books are great, huh? For like, carrying around, and, uh-”
“Thanks for suggesting this, Tavish,” Pauling says quickly and altogether too loudly. “Now that Helen only has me working forty hours a week, it’s crazy how much free time I have, but I probably would have spent it all glued to your bar if you hadn’t said something.”
“Tavern,” Tavish corrects. “And true, I think everyone here lacks a chance to stretch their legs every now and again. Though I cannae claim this trip was entirely with ulterior motive.”
He glances back.
Lollygagging behind the rest of the pack, Crue and Dell are at it again, bitching something fierce about the way Dell parked his truck. Or maybe they’ve moved on to something different by now:  whether it’s pronounced pecan or pecan, is light a wave or a particle, if bears shit in the woods or not. Although Crue has slipped comfortably into the Keep’s social structure for the most part (accepted as long as he’s helping Scout through her transition and he doesn’t have the balls to insult one of Tavish’s drinks again) there’s still one critical rub.
That rub being Dell Conagher.
What the hell is Dell’s problem Tavish can’t figure, and good Lord he’s tried. Usually the man’s about as mellow as a hog in a mud puddle, but something about the pompous stranger just drives him crazy, picking fights that even Jane wouldn’t have thought of, (and picking fights is that man’s personal pastime.) When asked, all Dell would supply is, “hell I don’t know DeGroot. He’s a snake is what he is. It just gets under my skin.” Crue is no better, always jumping at any opening Dell gives him, as though he’s got a pent up backlog of critiques and is just waiting for an outlet.  Acutally, now that Tavish thinks about it, that might not even be an exaggeration. He’s certainly less critical of everything than when he first came to Teufort, save for their dear engineer.
Tavish had fallen to his default assumption about these sorts of interpersonal relationships, and (rather optimistically ) contrived a situation where Crue and Dell might be able to work out their differences. A little time out of town to see the more palatable sides of one another.
“At the confessional: was trying to see if I could set Dell and Crue up together,” Tavish says. “Thought they might make up if they made out, bit of fresh air to jog the hormones.”
“What?” Scout gags, whatever she’d been trying to commiserate with Pauling quickly forgotten. “Actually, no, no don’t answer that. I’m out, freaking gross man.”
With a fading mumble of ‘yuck. yuck.’, she swiftly departs, her poorly fastened sleeping bag swaying as she peels to the front of the pack. The vanguard consists of Mick, Ludwig, and Pyro, (who immediately shows their girlfriend the cool bug they just found), but it’s clear that Mundy is the true spearhead of the operation. Despite their residents ranger running commentary on the various flora and fauna of the reserve, (currently informing Mikhail how pre-agricultural societies in the valley used obsidian tools since all their rocket launchers were lost in a volcanic event), Mick has been the one navigating the group down various hiking trails, now leading their post-lunch return to the camp ground.
“You really think you can hook Crue and Dell up?” Pauling asks.
“Nah, that’s a bust. I think they honestly just hate each other.”
But, since the bartender playing cupid is apparently still novel for some people, her question catches Mikhail’s attention. He asks, “DeGroot is now matchmaker?”
“He certainly tries,” Jane barks, annoyance at least in part for the theft of his audience. “But we all need to face the facts that that man is not as smooth operator as he claims to be; he couldn’t pin a tail to a donkey, let alone people who have legitimate unresolved sexual tension together. I told him not every pair of bickering canucks secretly want to swap spit, but he did not listen!”
“Canucks?” Pauling asks, baffled.
“Canadians Miss Pauling! The both of them!”
“I’ll be honest Jane, most of the time I can see where you’re coming from, or at the very least the other side of the canyon you jumped to get there but…Canadians?”
“Yes!” Jane slams a fist into his open hand. “Conagher lacks true American volatility! All attempts to construct complex machinery should spontaneously combust at least six times before bringing them onto the field. Obviously he’s a Canadian spy, sent here to assassinate our president, the man who wields the great American sword the Mayflower which he drew from the Liberty Bell on the morning of his sixteenth birthday!”
“…And Crue?”
“They speak French in Canada, don’t they.”
Despite the fact that he was rather brutally just called on his failures as a Casanova, Tavish can’t help but chuckle. “Ah, that’s a good one.”
“A good one?” Mikhail repeats doubtfully.
“Aye,” Tavish smiles fondly. “Ah, listen to this one. Hey! Jane!”
“What?” Jane snaps, putting down the binoculars.
“I can never keep track o’ American politics. Who is the president, again?”
Jane snorts. “Damn stupid question, private! It’s Lyndon B. Johnson, god rest his soul.”
And thusly, he returns to scouring the meadow. His two closest travelling companions exchange silent grievances, while the third keeps pace merrily.
“…He doesn’t really think Johnson is still president, does he?” Pauling ventures to ask.
“I’m surprised you’re concerned about that, when he’s also fully aware that Johnson is dead,” Tavish says pleasantly.
The bubble of cheer is short lived. While they’ve been debating Canadian-ness and monitoring black-footed ferrets, Mick has been grinding his teeth to near audible degrees, growing increasingly irate as he leads them back to the campground. Each fork in the trail comes with several minutes of indecision, the whole party stalling as he glares furiously at the map in his hands. His breaking point comes in the form of Scout asking, “hey, we getting a move on this century, chucklenuts?”
“We’d already be back by now if he hadn’t ruined my bloody map!”
Mick whirls on Jane with the tensile strength of a slingshot. Jane, ever difficult to read with his hat pulled down, hardly reacts. He cocks his head, and eyes the half-crumpled map being shoved in his direction.
“The brochures they give you down at the front are crap,” he says, not a drop of defensiveness in his voice. “I made some corrections.”
“You vandalized it is what you did,” Mick growls. “Fucking took it out of my pocket while my back was turned, you knew you were sabotaging us you sneaky ratbag.”
“Oi!” Tavish cuts in, stepping toward Mick. “Let’s not have any of that. A vandalized map is one thing, but accusing Jane of trying to sabotage us is another.”
“Exactly!” Jane barks. “You should be thanking me, Bilbo. I put no less than twelve agreeable shortcuts through the preserve, ones that would have us setting up our tents this very minute if you had taken them!”
“It’s scribbles to nowhere! I can’t even see the actual trail anymore under all the markings,” Mick snaps. “Half of it isn’t even a path, just a shitty drawing of a raccoon.”
Before Jane can reply, tight lips dawning on reproach, Dell and Crue finally catch up, no doubt shocked that another argument could dare to overshadow their own.
“What the hell’s gotten into ya’ll?” Dell says, quickly noting the stances Jane and Mick have found themselves in, the rest of the party gathered around like sports spectators.
“That map again no doubt,” Crue says airily. His general demeanor shows he’s just about at the end of his rope and also probably dying for a cigarette. “The bushman is convinced our feral simpleton here has been trying to impair our return to civilization. Personally, I think even that is beyond him.”
Jane’s face hardens. “You have been spreading lies and slander, gossiping about me to the Canadian of all people?”
“Oh don’t get self righteous on me you piker,” Mick spits. “If you didn’t do it on purpose, then you did it because you’re an idiot, which is even worse. To hell with this.” The map lands on the ground with a softer plap than the drama of the situation demands. “I can find my own way back.”
“You are not properly qualified to traverse this valley, not without a guide,” Jane says. “You will get lost, and a lost civilian is not something I cannot allow! It goes against my ranger’s oath.”
“There is no bloody ranger’s oath!” Mick throws up his hands. “And I’ve spent months in the outback with nothing but a rifle, a waterskin, and the clothes on my back. I know how to handle myself in the wilderness, and I’m better off without following your lunacy into a sinkhole.”
“Ridiculous! All the sinkholes are on the north side of the preserve.”
“And the offer goes to the rest of you,” Mick continues. “If you’d rather get back to the road before night falls instead of camping in the middle of the mountains.”
The assembled shook themselves at being addressed, as though having forgotten that they were breathing entities with a stake in this.
“How dare you!” Jane blusters. “I have worked at this park for twenty-four years! No one knows these woods better than I do.”
“And yet one of your ‘shortcuts’ does lead directly into the lake,” Ludwig says thoughtfully, having picked up the discarded map. To Mick, “you’re sure you know the way back from here?”
“Positive,” Mick says without hesitation. “And you’ve heard the bullshit he’s been spouting all day. You can’t trust that he has a better handle on geography than he does on anything else.”
“The bushman has a point,” Crue says, as though the outcome matters not at all, as though Jane’s not gone frozen while the rest of the party debates among themselves. “If there is an expert in surviving barely civilized conditions, it is he.”
“As much as I hate to agree with Crue on this,” Dell says, and Tavish would punch the air in vindication if it were under literally any other circumstances, “it ain’t healthy to sleep in places where any ‘ole critter wandering these parts might stumble across ya. Personally, I’d like to do all that we can to get to the designated camping area.”
One by one, the votes come in, the protests are half hearted at best, and Jane no longer moves. He just stands there, any emotion stripped from him as he calcifies under something worse than humiliation.
Alright. This is terrible. Tavish can still salvage this.
He claps his hands together, all big smiles, and says, “so we’ll be splitting the party then, eh? No worries, we’ll both take our separate ways, and then meet all back at the campsite tonight. Sound good?”
No one agrees at first, wary of the sudden change in tone.
Tavish doesn’t let the awkward silence linger. He pats Jane warmly on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just you and me, lad.”
Whatever frozen state Jane had found himself in, he breaks out of it, staring wide-eyed at Tavish. “You…?”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us, pally?” Scout asks, in all the tact being Scout will allow. When Pauling elbows her, she mutters, “oof.”
“Nah, I’m good,” Tavish says through false cheer. “No one knows Valles better than Ranger Doe here. I trust him more than anyone.”
The subtle dig is not lost on Mick who, as the two parties split and the far larger one trickles back down the way they came, glances at Jane and mutters something about ‘mental sickness’ under his breath. Tavish is glad he mutters it. If he’d said it aloud, Tavish would have broken his nose on principle.
Another hand comes to touch Tavish’s, but when he glances over, the words Jane obviously wants to say don’t come out.
“Let’s go,” Tavish supplies instead. “The sooner we get a move on, the sooner we meet up with them, aye?”
Jane nods. Jane then takes them on a journey.
Tavish hasn’t been home in years, and either the highlands weren’t as tumultuous as this or he’s gotten severely out of shape in his old age. He soon understands Mick’s anxiety, for while he’d thought night was still several hours away, the light disappears quickly as they hike, sweat on the back of his neck cooling as the shadows stretch.
They keep walking.
It seems they’ll go one direction, then the next, they double back again to the point where they may as well be going in a circle. At first Tavish tries to keep track of where north is, but it's hopeless when they get to the more thickly wooded part of the hills. Yet they keep walking, and Tavish worries about their friends, and Jane takes them on a winding expedition that no man would think to keep imprisoned on a map.
And then they arrive at the campground.
There’s only a few other spots taken, one of which is Mick’s van. None of the pitched tents belong to the Keep’s constituents. The last of the sun’s light disappears down the gap in the trees where the road cleaves them in two.
“…They’re not here,” Jane says.
Tavish can see that perfectly well, but he says, “aye. Must have taken a longer way than we did.”
Jan straightens. “We should go look for them.”
“Ach, they’ll be fine,” Tavish says, waving an errant hand at the woods. “They have the camping equipment. As long as they were canny enough to start setting up when they realized they weren’t getting back in time, they’ll live.”
This statement hangs awhile as crickets chirp in the hearty bluegrass planted by the registration office. In dawning realization, Jane says, “we don’t have the camping equipment.”
“Aye?” Tavish thought that was fairly if A then B.
Jane’s face screws up with something, but whatever it is escapes from his body before forming. “Come on. We can stay at my place for the night.”
There’s no chance to acquiesce, for Jane is off, and Tavish has to power walk to not be left behind. Before true dark comes the desaturation, the draining color from the little off-road passage tucked behind the roaring utility boxes, turning the world grayscale until night is sure of itself. The staff-only road winds up the hills slightly, hidden away so no campers stumble across it, and at the end is the ranger residencies, a handful of stationary trailer homes nestled modestly against the greenery. Long grass caresses against the tin walls of Jane’s home as he unlocks the door.
“The ‘ole cardboard Tetris?” Tavish asks of the abode’s interior. When Jane grunts in confusion, he elaborates, “what’s with all the boxes?”
“Oh. Just reorganizing.” 
Jane’s hand lies flat on the fridge door, staring at something pinned there by tiny tequila-shaped magnets. (Jane isn’t the only one with a penchant for themed Smissmas gifts.) 
Tavish is still puzzling over the crated possessions when he hears him ask, “why didn’t you go with the others?”
When Tavish glances over his shoulder Jane is staring right back at him. Tavish blinks. “Er…why…would I?”
“If I’d gotten us lost, we would have been stranded out there.”
“I suppose, yeah. But seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”
Jane stares at him a half moment longer before turning away. “You put too much faith in me.”
“Is putting faith in my friends another thing I shouldn’t do now? Along with the cardinal sin of ‘helping people’?” Jane doesn’t respond, and Tavish sighs. “Lad, everyone else ditched because they’re a bunch of easily distracted ninnies who followed the newest piper that came to town; but why on Earth would I leave you?”
Jane swallows silently. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but it looks like he closes his eyes.
Half bitterly, Tavish says, “I know I’m not supposed to ask you if anything’s wrong or whatever, but if something’s happened that makes you think we’re not on the same team, you’d tell me, aye?”
The paper under Jane’s hand comes off the fridge with a clatter, and he stuffs it in his pocket. The only thing he says is, “I’ll get you a spare pillow.”
Tavish lies on the couch that night—the sounds of pure, unadulterated nature outside so different from the pitiful attempts of urbanization of Teufort—and hopes their friends are doing okay out there.
You can put a soldier in the middle of a middling national park, but you can’t take the soldier out of the man. No time is that more apparent than at 5am, when Tavish awakens to the sound of a showerhead turning on. He pulls the loaned pillow over his head and attempts to go back to sleep, but this is comically fruitless, as no more than twenty minutes later the flagpole ceremony commences and a bugle blares through the rangers’ residences. Tavish emerges from the trailer bleary-eyed, and is too numb with sleep to do anything but watch Jane hoist the scrap of color notch by notch above the still unconscious roofs. No doubt the occupied ones have owners that are used to this by now, or at the very least are wise enough to spring for some earplugs.
One of the doors slams open to the clamorous denunciation of, “Doe!”
The man (who by the slightly larger size of his accommodations and the fact he’s taken on the burden of dealing with Jane, is probably the warden), storms across the yard with a pink bathrobe pulled tight around his shoulders.
“Fool!” the hollering, nearly as bad as the bugle itself, continues. “Cease! Cease at once, how many times have I told you to get rid of that screeching contraption from the pits of hell?”
“This month? Eleven.” Jane scratches behind his ear. “And I will tell you the same thing I have told you each of those eleven times: this is our duty as Rangers of the National Park Service! It says right in the handbook to honor the flag every morning.”
“That does not! Include! The trumpet!”
The warden is in the later stages of completely wasting away, his gaunt face losing a year with every minute in Jane’s company. He rubs his incredibly tired eyes with the hand not holding together his robe.
“Fah! This is your last warning, Doe. If I catch you playing that thing one more time, it. Will. Be. Your. Doom!” The warden spins on his (now dust covered) slippers and stalks back into his trailer.
“I will not bow to your threats, wizard!” Jane calls after the slamming door. “You cannot crush true American spirit! Not even with pink slips!”
“Wizard?” Tavish hums, suppressing a yawn.
“Yup,” Jane says. “No proof yet, but as soon as I do the forestry board will have him out of here like that.” He snaps his fingers.
Tavish nods. “One less thing to worry about, then. Ready to go rescue our friends?”
“…The friends who ditched us and followed some urine-drinking civilian to the middle of nowhere?”
Tavish thinks about that for a moment. “Hm. Breakfast first?”
“Yeah. That.”
When they finally catch up with the missing chunk of their party, it is two hours and several rounds of bacon later. All things considered, it could have been much worse; Mick’s navigation might have led them to the other side of the volcanic lip, or down to the wrong stretch of highway. As it is, the group had gotten close, but not close enough, and they’d set up camp only a moderate hike up the Redando trail.
Tavish and Jane arrive to a campsite slowly deflating. That fact that every half-minute, someone shoots Mick a dirty look is unmissable.
“I take it you lot didn’t have a pleasant night,” Tavish asks of the nearest wayward soul.
Mikhail grunts, and sullenly goes back to stuffing his tent in its bag.
Pyro, at least, is happy to see them. They bound up and cheerfully sign, “<this sucked! I’m sorry Jane, I promise to believe you the next time you tell me about Most Shrews.>”
Most Shrews? Tavish mouths silently.
“The venomous and completely shredded cousin to the Least Shrew,” Jane explains. To Pyro, he signs, “<apology accepted, Smokey. We all have to learn by falling on our asses every now and then.>”
“Can say that again,” Tavish remarks, looking around. Nearly every face is drooping and sleep deprived, and they didn’t have their eardrums shattered at five this morning. “Was it really that bad?”
“It was cold,” Pauling says as she walks up, tugging at a fashionable sweater that looks very new and very much like her au courant partner bought it for her. “And after everyone paired up, it was only Crue and Dell left, and they were not happy about it. They were arguing all night. Or at least I think they were. Mick snores really loudly.” If it were possible for her to slouch even more, she would.
“…Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen either of them around.”
Tavish takes another look. There are Ludwig and Mikhail packing up the cooking supplies, Scout spinning in circles trying to scratch a bug bite on her back, Mick shunned to the corner where he’s distinctly Not Looking at the new arrivals; but no Fortier or Conagher.
“I’m going to go check in on them,” Tavish excuses himself.
So it’s only Tavish there when the tent entrance is unzipped, a lone bartender who peaks his head in and sees…There’s really no way around it. He sees the pair of mortal enemies cuddling.
Crue’s teeth are chattering in his sleep, and it’s all clearly intentional because the two sleeping bags have been zipped together so Dell can wrap his arms around the leaner man. Even as Tavish stands there, gawking, the morning chill from the open tent flap blows in and Dell groggily opens his eyes. It takes approximately four seconds for him to become awake, realize he has a shivering Crue pressed to his chest, and notice that Tavish is standing over them both with the most I told you so expression a human face can manage.
“Aw hell,” he swears.
“Sorry to bother you,” Tavish says, putting his hands up in surrender, a motion that does not neutralize all other signs of smugness. “Just delivering the wakeup call.”
“I swear it ain’t what it looks like,” Dell tries, then reconsiders. “Damn it. Shouldn’t even bother. You’re all full of it now, ain’t you?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tavish takes a step out of the tent. Now that Crue has begun to stir, he says, “I’ll sooth the other’s worries. But swing by the Keep when we get back to civilization; I have a new drink I’d love you to try. As a way to say congratulations.” He winks, and lets the flap fall closed, ignoring the curses that follow him out as he leaves Dell to deal with whatever Crue’s personality is like in the morning.
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Rated X / 1949 words / Posted on AO3
The bright lights of Vegas glow in the window behind her, but her eyes are on the floor. 
It’s not the first time he’s seen her, nor she him. Not the second, either. But it’s different, this intentional way of getting there. Not falling into bed, or onto couch, not extending an invitation under the guise of a movie that they both know will end with her hand stuffed down the front of his sweatpants. He’s touched her, tasted her, but he’s never really seen her. Not like this. 
She fidgets with the waistband of her panties, flattening out the lace where it stretches over her hips. Her too-tall heels and push-up bra suddenly feel silly, like a costume. This isn’t who she is—not with him. She isn’t fuck me shoes and see-through lace, bikini waxes and perfume behind her ears. She is pant suits and sneakers, cotton and sensible pajamas. She is steadfast and constant—an untouchable touchstone. Or she was: suddenly she isn’t sure what she is to him anymore. 
He sits on the edge of the bed facing her, wearing only his boxers. His hands rest on the tops of his thighs, his posture stiff. She braces for the moment their eyes meet and her expression tells him everything he needs to know. He’ll be sweet, of course. He won’t pressure her. But disappointment is never an emotion he’s been skilled at concealing. 
When she finally lifts her eyes to his face, he looks anything but disappointed. She can’t meet his eye, because at present his gaze is firmly locked on those little lace panties. His bottom lip hangs open, his tongue intermittently swiping out to moisten it, and he is openly staring at her, gawking even. In her nervousness, she almost says something. Take a picture, it’ll last longer. But odds are good that he brought a disposable camera, just in case, and she has no intention of producing photographic evidence of this trip. 
She watches him as his eyes rove over her hips and waist, then spend an obscenely long time lingering on her breasts. A quick glance to his crotch reveals that he’s hard just from looking at her. Just looking. She hasn’t even touched him yet. She stands up that much straighter, pushes her shoulders back and her chest out. She feels herself grow warm and willing. She feels herself grow wet. Just looking at her, that’s all he’s doing. Just looking. 
She turns around slowly to give him a view of the back, smirking at her reflection in the window as he groans in approval. She had almost talked herself out of the thong. Almost. She’s glad she didn’t. She runs her hands over her hips, threading her thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugging them down and then back up. Teasing him. She hears him shift on the bed so she looks over her shoulder, expecting to see him approaching. But he’s just looking, watching, one of his hands now resting over his groin. This shouldn’t surprise her, his proclivity for watching, but somehow it does. 
She turns back to face him and he looks up suddenly as though he’s been caught, his one hand moving quickly back to the top of his thigh. She quirks her head in amusement at his demeanor. This man openly flaunts every rule, regulation, and guideline put before him, but perhaps she is his most deeply held conviction. Don’t look. Don’t touch. 
But the rules have changed. 
She approaches him slowly, confidently, watching the wide-eyed adoration on his face morph into anticipation as she gets within arms reach. His hands remain stationed in place, only his chin tilting up slightly to look at her. She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, intrigued by his deference. 
“Stand up.”
He immediately does as he’s told, rising to his feet and standing there with his arms at his sides like a dutiful soldier, if not for the pronounced tent at the front of his shorts. Keeping her eyes on his face, she slips her fingers under the waist of his boxers at his hips. He jumps a little, startled by the contact, and she pushes the fabric down until it pools around his feet. 
“Sit.”
He lands heavily back on the bed, his dinner plate pupils painting his eyes black in the low light. She takes one step back, dropping her eyes to his lap as she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. He’s achingly hard, stiff and straining, and his cock lurches under her gaze. With the clasp of her bra pinched between her fingers, she looks back to his face and blinks slowly at him as his eyes dart between her face and her chest, his breath quickening. 
Clasp undone, she slips off the straps one at a time and lets gravity carry the bra away from her until it falls to the floor at her feet. His mouth falls open, his eyebrows pull together, his hands balling into fists. Restraint. Who knew he was capable of so much of it. 
She steps up close again, sliding her hands over his shoulders. Her nipples hover inches from his face, so close she can feel the heat of his breath on her skin. He brushes his nose over one areola, then drags his tongue over it from bottom to top. She hums her approval, and he brings his hands to rest on her hips as he licks and sucks at one breast and then the other. His eyes fall closed, but she keeps hers open so she can watch him. His complete and undivided attention is something she hadn’t realized how much she wanted until now, with his lips wrapped around her breast and his tongue drawing circles that make her dizzy.  
She steps back again, her nipple puckering as the air in the room chills his saliva, and his mouth hanging open at the loss of her. Bringing her hands to her hips, she slips her fingertips under the waist of her panties and holds his eye as she pushes them down her legs. She keeps her heels on, plucking the scrap of fabric off the toe of one of them and holding it in her hand. When she drops to her knees between his open legs, his eyes widen. 
He is silky steel in her palm, hot and hard and leaking with want of her. She strokes him idly, watching his face as he watches her mouth. The anticipation is so thick she can taste it, salty and slick on the back of her tongue. She takes the panties from her other hand and begins to wrap them around the base of his shaft, making a loop around his scrotum on every other pass. When it’s snug, but not so tight it will restrict blood flow, she meets his eye and drags the head of his cock back and forth over the tip of her tongue. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs, with all the conviction of a prayer. 
She has to hold herself back from swallowing him whole, from hammering him against the back of her throat until he comes in her mouth. There will be a time for that, but it isn’t here, or now. She has much bigger plans for them both. 
Instead she bathes him with her tongue, strokes him with her hands, flicks at the head of him while they lock eyes. He doesn’t touch her, push her head down, or thrust up into her mouth. He just watches with a beautifully agonized expression, as though moved nearly to tears. 
When her knees begin to ache, she pushes on his chest until he reclines and then she climbs over him, her heat pressed against his belly. His hands stroke the tops of her thighs, his eyes pinned between her legs and his expression pained. He won’t ask, won’t insist, but it’s clear what he wants. She crawls higher, over his chest and then shoulders, and he excitedly threads his arms under her legs, cupping her buttocks as she hovers over his mouth. His breath is hot, and the first flash of his tongue over her vulva makes her gasp with surprise and relief. He licks her tenderly, reverently, and she slowly relaxes onto him until she is sitting fully, his nose pressed snugly against her clit and his tongue tucked tightly inside her cunt. 
It’s tongue, and it’s lips, and it’s teeth, and it’s not as much what he’s doing as how enthusiastically he’s doing it. His fingers dig into her ass cheeks and his pelvis jumps off the bed as he moans like he’s the one receiving. She’s ready for more, for him inside of her and his mouth on hers, so she pushes up to her knees and begins to move off of him. 
He whimpers in protest, his mouth chasing her pussy as she crawls to the head of the bed. She chuckles lightly, but it’s cut short when he wraps his palms around the fronts of her thighs and tugs her back against him. He stuffs his face between her ass cheeks, licking at everything he can reach as her arms give way and she groans into the comforter. Now with the use of his fingers, he rubs slick, frenzied circles around her clit and does things with his tongue that would warrant reminding him about cross contamination if she could be bothered to care. He is dogged, relentless, and by the time she realizes she’s about to come, it’s too late to stop it. 
“Oh, God,” she says on a gasp, and he veritably growls as she falls apart around him. 
She’s still throbbing when she feels the press of his cock, hard as granite as he slides into her. It’s too good, too much, overwhelming, but she knows she doesn’t want to stop. He slams into the hilt, the fabric of her panties digging into her skin as he takes up a punishing pace. 
“You feel incredible,” he says through gritted teeth, his hands on her hips and his skin slapping loudly against hers, and she’s so wet there is absolutely no resistance. 
“Oh, God,” she says for the second time, and he must feel her, the way she’s fluttering around him. 
“Mmmm,” he hums. “Yes, good girl.”
She comes again, blinding hot euphoria turning her joints to jelly as her hips slump towards the bed, and he keeps going until she sighs with satisfaction. 
He withdraws, rolls her gently onto her back, and unwinds the fabric of her panties from around his shaft before plucking her heels off her feet. She gives him a questioning look and he smiles bashfully, nudging her thighs open with his knee and carefully slipping back inside. 
“Okay?” he asks, watching her face. 
She nods languidly. 
“You still feel good,” she says with a sleepy smile. 
He kisses her, runs his fingers through her hair and down her arms as his hips rock against hers. His breath quickens, his pace increasing slightly, and she cradles his face in her hands until he looks at her. 
“Come inside me,” she says softly, and his eyes slide closed as does exactly as he’s told. 
He is heavy on top of her, but when he tries to move she holds him tighter. He shifts his weight just enough to keep her comfortable, the slick of both of them cooling between her legs and his head resting on one of her breasts. 
The bright lights of Vegas glow in the window beside them, but her eyes are on his sated smile as they both drift off to sleep.  
Tagging @today-in-fic
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theback-rooms · 10 months
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Katie came over after work, we scarfed down some pizza (both of us were too excited to eat much), and we got our backpacks together for the expedition. We took everyone’s suggestions, and also added a large textbook, 2 disposable cameras (spoiler alert: we got 1-hour photo development, and not a single photo came out as anything but a dark smudge) and several skeins of bright orange yarn (my idea).
The trip down didn’t seem to take as long as before, though that probably had something to do with not worrying that something was going to jump out at us behind every curve. 
When we got down to the door, we propped it open with the textbook. It didn’t seem too likely to close on its own, but better safe than sorry. Then we tied one end of the orange yarn to the nearest tree, and started down the path.
It was mostly quiet--no birdsong or anything--except that sometimes a gentle breeze would blow and the silver trees would kind of ring. Eventually we managed to spot the full moon, shining brilliantly off of some of the trees. The whole place was just stunningly beautiful. There were lampposts all along the path (kudos to whomever said we’d end up in Narnia lol), so we didn’t need our flashlights, but we couldn’t see very far into the woods. Every once in awhile the branches would jangle like something was moving through them: the first time it happened, Katie and jumped and grabbed each other and stared around in terror, but when nothing happened, we eventually decided it had either been a gust of wind or some kind of small animal (do they HAVE squirrels in metal forests?!), and after awhile we stopped doing more than jumping out of our skin every time it happened.
It wasn’t long before we had finished up a skein of yarn--a full 354 yards, according to the label!--and had to tie on a second one. While I was fiddling with the yarn, Katie said she saw something odd up ahead. When we got there, we found that the entire forest is not silver.
The silver trees slowly but surely gave way to gold trees. I really got scared at this point, because I remembered what @esmeiolanthe said about gold and diamond trees. I told Katie, and it kind of freaked her out too, though I think in general she’s much braver than I am. But we kept walking, and nothing changed: the trees ringing in the soft breeze, the moon shining above and the lampposts on either side, and an occasional rustle (more like a crash) in the woods. 
The gold trees looked like maples (leaves shaped like the one on the Canadian flag). We tied another skein of yarn on, and another one, and eventually Katie tugged on my arm and pointed ahead. This time, I could see what she did: @esmeiolanthe was right. There were diamond trees.
These were absolutely stunning, and I would have been speechless at the sight if I hadn’t already been nearly speechless with fear. They were shaped like weeping willows, with long silvery streamers of narrow diamond leaflets glittering in the light of the lampposts and the moon. There was a lot more noise here--the willow branches moved a lot more than the oak or maples--and still those occasional crashes.
Finally, as we were getting to the very end of the fifth skein (I only took 7), the path slowly opened out, and we found ourselves on a little pebbled beach around an enormous lake.
The moon was shining brightly on the water. As far as we could see in the distance there were metal trees of various colors leading down to the beach, which was studded with the occasional lamppost (though they weren’t nearly as necessary here, since the moon was so bright out in the open.
On the far side of the lake we could see what looked like a beautiful palace, all lit up, and we could hear faint music echoing over the water.
And there wasn’t a ferryman there--but there was a boat. Just one rowboat with two oars and a lantern at one end.
We did NOT take the oars. In fact, I convinced Katie that we should go back: that we had explored enough for one night. Eventually she agreed, and we tied the end of the yarn to another tree and headed back up the path. 
I was getting hungry by the time we reached the stairs--which, from this end looked set into an ivy-covered stone wall, the ends of which I couldn’t see--and was glad we had brought water and snacks for the hike back up the stairs.
We had gone down at about 7 pm, and when we got back it was only 8, though I would have sworn we spent much more than an hour down there. Katie and I ate the rest of the pizza and discussed what to do next.
Katie wanted to get in the boat and paddle across to the palace, to see what the music was all about. I remembered the thing about the ferryman, so I didn’t want to have anything to do with the boat: I wanted to walk along the beach and see if there was anything else to be seen on this side of the lake. After all, if we walk far enough, and the palace really is on the other side of the lake, we should come to it eventually, right? (Though it’s probably a few miles the whole way around--quite a hike.)
I’m really relying on you folks to give me some idea what you think we should do next: I think your advice might help Katie and me to make up our minds. Please comment or send an ask: what do you think we should do the next time we go down? Walk along the beach? Cross the lake in the boat? A secret third option? We know not to each anything we find down there, and not to steal the ferryman’s oars, but is there anything else we should be aware of??
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shu-glue · 2 years
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Chapter 6: Terms and Conditions
Summary: Suna tells you he has learnt your secret and taunts you by saying he'd tell everyone else unless you tutor him. You don't let him get his way, however, and you make a deal with him; a win-win situation.
A/N: I'm taking a bit of a break lmao, i haven't caught up to my own outline and like, classes are getting busier so please bare with me 😭 i'll see if i can post chapter 7 next week but for now, i'm not too sure. chapter 6 gave me an ASS of a writers block
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Your parents are very careful about the family image.
It’s something that’s been hammered into your and your older siblings' brains since you were all very young. Keep your mouth shut, never cause a scene, never antagonize who you shouldn’t antagonize (read: anyone who is of use). All these rules only really boil down to “never stir up trouble for the Asagao Group”.
At first, you hated their—you say ‘their’ but really, your father’s—obsession with the family reputation. You never liked being in the spotlight, under everyone’s scrutinizing eyes.
But now, you’ve never been more grateful for the times your older brother helped keep you in line and taught you self-discipline.
Because if he hadn’t, you probably would have bitch slapped Suna Rintarou after the second time he tripped you this very lovely afternoon.
You were right! He is an absolutely rotten, annoying, infuriating little brat! Granted, you mentioning his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend) yesterday was kind of uncalled for and you didn’t have to say anything at all, seeing as the wound would still be fresh—
Who are you kidding, what wound?! He and his girlfriend only dated for two weeks and the fact that he's so salty about it makes no sense!
It's absolutely VEXING!
You can't count how many times he's tripped you, or accidentally hit your disposable camera with a volleyball, or even done the most mundane but irritating things like randomly scaring you by blowing into your ear. And every time he messes with you, he immediately turns to glance around and raises an eyebrow as if he was expecting something harsher than a "stop doing that" from the captain.
The damn asshole even flicked your forehead when you walked by and did it again for some reason!
What is even his problem?
You shake your head, choosing to just channel your frustration by flipping through the draft posters. “Do we have the photos for the wing spikers, setters, middle blockers, and captain and vice captain?” You ask Nana and Ryuji. The three of you are double-checking your pictures, the shoot having just finished and the team now in the showers.
“We also have shots of Aran-san by himself as the ace.” Ryuji tells you, placing the last of the disposable cameras inside Nana’s camera bag.
“That’s good, we just need ta process the film and then edit the photos digitally.” Nana turns to you, hands on her hips. “Now, should we threaten Suna or should we look for potential blackmail?”
“Blackmail takes more effort so maybe threatening him would be—excuse me, what?!” You shriek. Nana and Ryuji are staring up at the ceiling, hands on their chins, as they are still brainstorming. “NO! None of that!"
Ryuji frowns at you, tilting your head. “Ya always said beating someone up willy nilly won’t do anything so a new approach should be used.”
Arms flailing in front of you in panic, you say, “I didn’t say that second part! I never said that! Where did I insinuate that?!” These two might give you a heart attack one day. No, they’ll definitely make you go into goddamn cardiac arrest! Sure, Suna’s been a little shit to you all afternoon but…
“So ya expect us ta just stand around while that Mr. Bean lookin’ ass messes with ya?!” Nana asks you, hands on her hips as she looks up at you sternly; eyebrows knitted together and lips pursed. “Senpai, I’m tired of seein’ people disrespect ya! That video of ya scolding Suna and those Miya twins already blew up and people are taking it outta context…” Nana stomps her feet, crossing her arms. She’s upset, looks almost close to crying, drastically different from her usually irritated tantrums.
Ah yeah, that video. It wasn’t uploaded by either Suna or that other girl; the video was uploaded by an entirely different bystander and it just showed you scolding, well, everyone you had chastised yesterday. The video is just two minutes long but it managed to go viral throughout the student body anyway, with some students calling you ice cold and criticizing you for bringing up Suna and Erika’s then unknown breakup.
No, you didn’t spend ten entire minutes going through the comments.
“Ah, wait, Nana, please don’t cry—”
You’re interrupted by a slight sob to your right. “The comments are really nasty…” Ryuji adds and you turn to see that he is ALSO upset and close to crying.
“You too?!”
A sigh escapes your lips and you loop your arms through each of their own, so that they’re standing on either side of you and you’re in between them. Nana and Ryuji look up and down at you respectively in confusion. “I appreciate ya guys havin’ my back but I am fine, honest.” You say, looking at each of them with a small frown. “Tell y’all what, I’ll buy ya both fried chicken from our favorite restaurant ta calm both of yer butts. Just, no threatening of any kind please…”
Nana and Ryuji frown at you, glancing at each other as if debating what to do. Soon, Nana sighs, hugging your arm with a pout. “I don’t like their spicy chicken.”
“I like their spicy chicken.” Ryuji retorts.
“We’ll buy both the spicy and non-spicy chicken, please don’t bicker with each other.”
Nana pouts once more, glancing at Ryuji once again. The maroon haired boy glances back at her, silently coming to an agreement.
“Hmm, maybe we should get the photos developed on the way while we’re at it—” You say out loud, too busy thinking to notice Nana and Ryuji’s exchange, when you hear someone call out to you.
Kita emerges from the locker room with the rest of the team behind him, all grouped up in their own smaller cliques. “Ah, Kita!” You say as he approaches, while Nana and Ryuji are blinking in curiosity. You watch him tell Aran and the other third years to go ahead, glancing behind him to see the other members walking towards the exit.
“I have something else to discuss with ya, if ya don’t mind.” Kita says, nodding towards Nana and Ryuji.
“Oh, well, uhm…” You stutter, glancing at the two with uncertainty.
Nana groans. “We can just go tomorrow after school.” She says to you, shoving her hands in her pockets. Ryuji nods beside her.
“We’ll have the photos developed, don’t worry. See ya tomorrow!” He adds.
“Thanks. See ya tomorrow!” You say to them, waving as you watch them walk away, and you turn to look at Kita again, playing with your fingers. The rest of the team finally left, leaving only you and Kita standing outside the gym. “So, what did ya wanna talk about?”
A few minutes earlier…
Suna's plan was very simple.
He just needed to decipher what exactly is the relationship between you and Kita.
However, no matter how many times he messed with you, Kita didn’t even flinch! Their captain only chastised him before he asked if you were okay. And you don’t even react either! Not even a blush or any flustered stuttering. He could have just waited to see how you and Kita interacted with each other. Nothing really ever escapes his observant eye; a hand tucking hair behind your ear, an arm around your waist for a split second, even prolonged eye contact. But that took too long for his liking.
Heck! He’s not even looking for signs of you secretly dating anymore, he’s looking for ANY sort of relationship between you and Kita. Then again, he could mess with their captain to see how you’d react (since you’re probably a bit more expressive than he is) but he does not have a death wish.
He's failing his subjects but he's smart enough to not anger Kita!
"Ya know, Suna, ya don't hav'ta be so mean ta them." Ginjima pipes up next to the middle blocker, pulling off the top of his volleyball uniform. Currently, the entire team is changing back into their regular school uniforms, the photoshoot for the posters done for now.
The locker room is not such a great place to have a "little chat", what with all the body odor you'd expect from athletic teenage boys (showers have NO effect). Suna just wants to change and go home at this point too, his plan to get you and Kita to indirectly fess up proving to be futile. Alas, said plan just landed him a scolding from his teammates who are, honestly, confused.
"Yer normally pretty indifferent, Suna. What did the kid from the Asagao Group do to you?" Aran asks, looking at Suna with a slightly—more than slightly—baffled expression.
"Is Murasaki's senpai really that bad…?" Riseki cuts in, frown on his face and fingers on the buttons of his dress shirt. "I mean, I've ran into them a few times and they seem chill…"
“Nah, Suna’s just being a prick as usual.” Osamu reassures the first year, waving away Suna’s glare boring itself into the back of his skull. "Don't ya follow his example, yeah? Suna's a terrible role model."
"I don't even want to be a role model!"
"Aran-kun is a great example, Riseki, don't waste yer time with Mr. Bean here." Atsumu pipes in, rocketing Suna closer to the verge of an aneurysm, the latter now glaring holes in both their heads.
"Don't mention me in any of yer spats, Miyas, I can't have graying hair at 18!" Aran complains, turning red when Atsumu and Osamu begin to tease him (he really shouldn't have said anything in the first place then).
Suna glances at the space beside Aran and sees Kita silently fixing his uniform, tying his tie with expert precision. Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke. If messing with you wasn't enough to get a reaction out of him, maybe that something between you two wasn't anything special. Which means, Mission Find Kita's Weakness is still ongoing (not aborted, obviously).
The middle blocker freezes when he realizes Kita's eyes are on him now. Maybe it's just him but somehow, the room just got way colder than it did before. Slowly, Kita glances at his back, then looks at Suna again with blank eyes. "Is there something on my back?"
Suna flinches, averting his gaze with poorly practiced nonchalance. "No, there isn't."
Kita doesn't say anything else, just turning back to his locker to continue getting ready.
….
Suna finally emerges from the locker room, safely tucking his phone back into his pocket securely lest he wants to lose it again. Dammit, everyone else left already but he told those one-braincell twins to wait for him while he fetched his phone, those little rats—
"So what did ya wanna talk about?"
Suna freezes and hides behind the wall by the open doors of the gym, back pressed to the cold painted cement as he strained his ears to eavesdrop on your conversation. Who are you talking to? With seemingly no one else around to overhear—?
"I think it’d be nice if we say ‘hey’ to each other, first? We didn’t get ta actually talk the whole time you were here."
Holy crap, is that Kita?
"Heh, sorry sorry, hey. We were just so busy all afternoon."
Did you just giggle?
He knows he could be seen if he takes a little peek but he just can't resist, bending just a little bit so that he can catch a glimpse from behind the wall. There stands you and Kita Shinsuke. Kita had his back slightly turned to the door, so Suna can’t really see his face clearly. But he can see you.
If he could, he would have taken a few HUNDRED shots purely of your face, which was as red as the ripest tomato in the, uh, tomato field or whatever they were called. “I know, thank ya again fer doing this, I know it could be a bother to ya—” Kita starts but you wave your hands frantically in front of you, a frown on your face.
“I-It’s really not! I did say that if it’s you, I wouldn’t mind favors!” You quickly reassure him. Suna raises his eyebrow at this. So you and Kita do talk to each other, you just don’t meet up where people could see you…
Oh, how hella suspicious.
Suna snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you speak again, his interest now more piqued than ever. “Ah, the first posters should be ready by next week, just to remind ya.” You say to Kita, idly crossing your arms. “That way, ya can tell us if ya want anything changed.”
"I'm sure anything ya come up with would be good." Suna sees Kita tilt his head, and judging by your expression, he probably has an endearing expression on his face.
However, Kita's posture deflates and Suna watches as your face falls. "About Suna…" Kita starts and immediately, Suna sees your face sour, eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your face.
"Ya saw him! He's such a conniving little rat!" ('Conniving little rat?') "I don't think I can really work with someone so deadset on antagonizing me, Kita."
"I'll talk to him." Kita says. "If he doesn't fix his attitude…"
"Ya don't have to, it wasn't like he was gonna ask for my help anyway."
"Well, I'm not going to let him pick on my best friend like that."
Suna's eyebrows raise. Best friend? Just best friends? Well, that's disappointing. Suna thought he'd get some juicy info on your and Kita's secret forbidden relationship that you both cannot show to the school or the public. It would have given him something to tease their captain about AND something to hold over your head! Two birds with one stone! Now that stone is just thrown out the window.
The middle blocker silently clicks his tongue, about to just walk out the gym since this is just a waste of time, when he sees it. The way your body stiffens, your smile tightens, and you stop playing with your fingers. He sees a flash of something akin to disappointment show in your eyes.
Oh?
"Oh, I guess not. You'd never let anyone mess with your friends…" You're sheepish, a hand reaching up to scratch the back of your neck. Your gaze is downcast and Suna watches with rapt attention as you avert your gaze to and from different spots on the ground, avoiding Kita's stare.
Kita lifts his hand up and pats your head, your face burning red now. "Of course I wouldn't let it slide. I love ya too much ta let anyone pick on ya anymore." God, even Suna flinched at that. "You want me ta walk ya home? It's gettin' late."
"No, it's okay. Aran and the others are probably waitin' for ya."
"Then, I'll see ya tomorrow, okay? Get back home safe." With one last pat to your head, Kita walks on ahead, leaving you in front of the gym. You watch him go with a wave and as you slowly drop your hand, you visibly droop.
Suna slowly approaches you, hands in his pockets and blank expression on his face. You don't notice him, your hands over your face. "Kita, why are ya so dense…?"
"I know right, it was painful seeing the two of you skirt around each other." The sound of Suna's voice has you jumping in fright, swinging around to slap whoever snuck up on you in the face. The middle blocker catches your wrist before your palm could make contact with his cheek.
You actually seem shocked when you see that it's Suna, much to his amusement. You're always so cold and poker faced when he sees you that every wayward twitch of your eye or corner of your mouth would never fail to entertain him.
He glances at your wrist, then back at you, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a smirk. "Nice reflexes." He comments, his smirk now morphing into a shit-eating grin at the way your face burns bright red—not in embarrassment, but in anger.
"You little— what— I—!" You stutter over your words. Suna should really test how fast your brain would work after a brief interaction with Kita.
Suna smirks as he bends forward a little to be eye-level with you, and somehow, that feeds your ire even more. He could practically see the steam coming out of your ears. “Easy there, High and Mighty, if I knew you’re startled easily, I would have tapped your shoulder at least.” You both know he wouldn’t. “That was some conversation with Kita, wasn’t it?”
It takes you a few seconds of your brain buffering, but when you do register his words, your mouth drops open and your eyes widen a fraction. ‘You did not.’
Suna’s eyes narrow into something akin to a cat’s, his shit-eating grin returning but this time ten times worse than earlier. ‘Yes, I did.’
“You— ya eavesdropped—?!” You begin to say—shriek, is the correct description, wanting to lift your hands to strangle the living crap out of this foot-tripping, camera-breaking, goddamn-irritating son of a— “Will ya let go of my wrist?!”
“Nope, you’ll run away from me, High and Mighty.”
“Oh, who wouldn’t run away from an eavesdropping little creep— wh— hey! Don’t pull me— OI!”
With a firm tug, Suna pulls you along with him as he starts to walk away from the gym, face blank as he ignores your protests. This guy. This guy, seriously!
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Your eye twitches as you look across the table towards the object of your irritation, who’s taking his sweet, sweet time finishing a single ice pop while looking up and down your form at the same time. Of all places, he dragged you to a convenience store, conveniently a few blocks away from Inarizaki High School. There’s not a lot of people in the store. Not that it’s completely deserted, there’s a few part and full timers working behind the counter and in between the shelves, and there’s plenty of people walking around outside the store itself.
How should you say this; there are no other students from Inarizaki here. You noticed this the moment you and he sat down at the table and it puzzled you even more. What in the world is this guy…?
“Well? Aren’t you gonna eat that pork bun I bought you?” Suna goads, interrupting your thoughts. With narrowed eyes, your gaze slowly drops down to the single meat bun situated right in front of you. It’s freshly microwaved, you can still see the slight steam emanating from the white bun and into the colder than necessary air conditioning.
“I’m not hungry.” Is your simple answer, curt and to the point.
“It’s the second best convenience store pork buns in Hyogo.” Is Suna’s simple comeback, now empty ice pop plastic sandwiched between his teeth.
“Oh wow, thank you fer dragging me here and wasting my time ta buy me Hyogo’s second best pork buns.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and you don’t know if the obvious use of irony just simply flew over his head, but he seemed to revel in the exasperation of your tone.
You see a much older employee’s nostrils flare at your words and a younger one moves to restrain him in the corner of your eye, but you don’t pay them any attention. “What? Do cheap snacks bore you, High and Mighty? Want one wrapped in gold?” Suna asks you, removing the plastic from his teeth with a provoking smirk.
Think “relax” ten times. Think “relax” ten times.
“Ya know what? A meat bun wrapped in gold would have been worth all my wasted time.” You say with a faux smile before your face falls, your expression flat. “What’s yer damn problem, Suna?”
“I have a problem?” He has the gall to ask with a raised brow and a confused frown on his face as if he’s clueless. He also has the gall to actually laugh at your face, which probably looks like you’ve sucked an entire lemon and then some. “Don’t get so pissy, High and Mighty, I just wanted to ask you for something.”
“Then just ask me, instead of dragging me five blocks away from the bus I need ta take to get back home ta ask m—!”
“Be my tutor.”
“THANK YOU for finally getting to the point—what did you just say?”
Suna watches with a wide grin as your eyes widen to the point of being in danger of bulging out, your jaw dropped open for the second time today. This time, however, instead of being livid and scandalized, you only look beyond shocked. You blink once, twice (Suna can practically see the gears trying to turn in your head), before you squeeze your eyes shut as if you feel a headache coming on. “What.”
Suna lifts a finger and says, “Tutor. You. Me.”, as he points at you and then at himself as if he’s explaining the basic concept of colors to a toddler.
“I heard and understood what ya said, you as a concept are just hard to process!” You shriek at him, hitting your fists on the tabletop. “I mean, ya messed with me all afternoon for the HECK of it, it seems like. Then, ya eavesdrop on a private conversation that you had no business being a part of—”
“Well, I WAS the topic of that talk, now wasn’t I? And you did eavesdrop on me and Erika yesterday while we were 'breaking up'.”
“—you shut your mouth, AND, ya feel like ya can have the AUDACITY ta drag me here, at 6:51 PM on a school day, so ya can ask me ta be yer tutor—ya know what, even if someone BEGS me ta teach ya a single math formula, I will not help ya study or give a damn about it! I am not a tutor, alright?! And if you think I would help ya just because Kita asked me ta and I feel bad fer ya, you’ve got another thing comin’!”
Your tone shifts into something resembling the sound of nails against a chalkboard, borderline shrieking at Suna now after slamming your hands against the table. Suna just watches you go on your tirade, chin placed upon his palm and head tilted as he listens.
His other hand sneakily slips into his bag, and he rummages through it as you continue your rant, something along the lines of 'family rules be damned' and 'not even a threat of expulsion could get me ta help yer sorry ass', he's not really sure. "And another thing—!" You start, ready to begin another long tangent of your rant, when Suna pulls out a book from his bag and places it on the table with a deadpan expression.
Eyes narrowed, you eye Suna in suspicion, crossing your arms. "What's that."
Suna, in all his sleepy glory, smirks at you and says nothing; letting you peer down at the cover of the book. Immediately, you notice the pink. After the pink, you notice the characters drawn on the cover. After the characters, you realize oh crap, that's your manga.
"I didn't take you for someone who likes romance. Or someone who's an otaku." Suna finally says, sifting through the pages of 'Love-Hate Relationship With My No-Good, Very Annoying Roommate' with a raised eyebrow. "Look, they're holding hands! How scandalous, I hope that wasn't a spoiler."
"Wh— wait, when did ya—?" You begin to ask but your brain goes back to yesterday to when you crashed into Suna running down the stairs. Because everything happened so fast, you failed to remember the fact that you dropped all your things and hurriedly put it back in your bag. The fact that the very real possibility (and now reality) of Suna Rintarou being the one who found your manga slipped your mind and you are very disappointed in yourself.
"Remember now?" Suna is very annoying when he wants to be. "You know, I was surprised when I saw that you read stuff like this. Not so prim and proper for someone like you. Though, nothing quite shocked me more than this."
Your jaw drops when Suna pulls out a photo from his pocket and you see that it's the photo of you and Kita you tucked between the pages of your manga. "Friends, huh? Childhood best friends, maybe? Though, it's curious why you'd put something like this in a romance shoujo manga."
"I couldn't put it anywhere else safely."
"Righhht, and you saying 'Kita, why are you so dense?'," he does an annoying imitation of your voice, "is just you being curious."
You're quite speechless and if Suna was elated at your expression earlier, the way your mouth opens and closes like a fish and your eyes dart from him to the photo to him again makes him manic. "You weren't slick about it or anything." He shrugs. "It was pretty obvious with how you talked and looked at him. I'm surprised someone could like Kita that way, if I'm being honest."
Suna bends forward to peer at your face better. Your reaction to the next thing he's going to say is something he needs to see. "But, judging from everything earlier, he doesn't feel the same way, now doesn't he?"
Oh, you look livid. Like the final nerve has been stepped on. Your face is now red from both embarrassment AND irritation, glaring daggers right through Suna. He continues before you can respond. "Maybe we should ask him. See what he thinks of you, shouldn't we?"
It's then that your eyes narrow and your stare becomes even more scathing. "Ah, I get it." Suna raises an eyebrow. "If I don't tutor ya, ya tell Kita and everyone else that I like him?" The thought of that makes you want to vomit (the whispers without it annoy you enough) but you can't let it show on your face.
"What? I would never." Suna doesn't sound genuine. "Annoy you endlessly with the fact that he doesn't reciprocate? Sure."
This guy seriously. You grit your teeth and close your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. You've had someone try to get the upper hand on you and you outsmarted them before. You can do it again.
"Hmm… spreading rumors ain't my thing but," it's your turn to shrug, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and peering up at Suna with cold eyes, "if I said that yer a pervert who felt up my legs once while going up the stairs, that would raise some eyebrows, now wouldn't it?"
"Wha—and who would believe that?"
"I dunno, would ya like ta find out?" You give him a saccharine grin, eyes closed and head tilted. "Even if my reputation is shit, my words still hold a bit of influence, ya know?"
If Suna wants to play this game, then you'll play too.
The tension increases between the two of you as you and Suna stare at each other with challenging gazes, the air surrounding you growing even colder than the air conditioning of the convenience store. It's now your turn to revel in the way Suna's eyebrow twitches and his lips pull back in an annoyed frown.
There's also a small vein popping on his forehead that you almost find amusing until a loud sigh escapes his lips, making you wince and tense at the noise. His glare is gone almost instantly, replaced by a impassive glare as he leans back in his chair.
"Okay. What about a deal?"
You blink at his sudden change of attitude, immediately confused. "Huh?"
"Deal. Me. Yo—"
"Stop dumbing things down for me!"
"Let's make a deal." Suna crosses his arms and leans back further into his chair. "You help me pass midterms, I help you woo Kita."
You can't help but scoff at his proposal, mirroring his stance. "Help me woo Kita? Ya can't even keep a girlfriend for more than a week."
"At least I can get into a relationship without endlessly pining for them first." Suna says and you resist the urge to hit the middle blocker in the face with the meat bun in front of you. "It's a simple transaction. I receive good grades and no longer have the possibility of being benched, and you receive… Kita's love and affection or whatever."
The idea of outright rejecting the offer is so tempting to you right now. Why would you agree to spending a second longer with someone like Suna Rintarou? That's your reasoning.
However, the idea of accepting the offer is just as tempting to you right now.
Your feelings for Kita were a secret you kept close to your heart, and one you never plan on telling anyone else except for Kita himself. If you were to let go of an opportunity like this, you'd never forgive yourself.
"How exactly are ya gonna help me 'woo' Kita?" You ask dubiously, tilting your head.
"You call the shots. Help me help you and I'll help you help me." When he sees you raise an eyebrow, still doubtful, he sighs again and clasps his hands together, placing his elbows on the table. "What's stopping you from confessing to him? Does he have a girlfriend? Do his parents not like you? Do you not have experience—?"
"That's not the point!"
Suna pauses at your outburst, his eyes widening for the first time this entire exchange. Your face is red and your eyes are wide. It's almost like you're just as shocked at your own outburst as well. "Uhm. What. What I mean is. Is uhm."
Suna blinks a few times before it finally clicks in his mind and he gives you an infuriating lazy smirk. "Oh. Oh, I see. You've never had a boyfriend before." He says and the way your blush grows brighter is enough to tell him he has hit the nail on the head. "Holy shit, you really haven't!"
"I-It's not somethin' ta laugh about!" You retort, feebly trying to defend yourself but Suna lets out a slight laugh anyway, breathless with disbelief. "I'm serious!"
"I know you're serious, High and Mighty, but—this is gold, oh my god, I WISH I took a picture of that face." Suna says as he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye, irritating you even more if that was possible. "You need to be more assertive! No guy—not even Kita—is going to date you if you just stare at him longingly from a safe distance as his 'best friend'."
Suna pauses. "If I can even call you guys that, I barely even see you guys interact at school, so that's another -1." He leans forward again and jabs a finger at you. "If you want Kita to notice you, you have to make the first move."
You're silent for a few seconds, your eyes darting down to the floor as you wring your hands together, back hunched over. "I… I don't know how ta make the first move."
Your voice is soft, almost vulnerable; so much so that it makes Suna's brain freeze in its tracks.
"Or the move after that. Or the one after that. Or the one after that…" Your carefully constructed facade crumbled slowly. "I don't… know how to be in a relationship. So I don't think I would ever be a good girlfriend for Kita, if ever. So I never confessed."
Suna's eyes widen and you scowl at the flash in his eyes, averting your gaze. "Pity doesn't suit ya, Suna, so just— just forget about everything I said. Or laugh, it was pathetic."
He does neither, leaning forward instead. "Then how about we practice?" He suggests casually, tilting his head at you.
"What?!"
"Practice. Me. Yo—," you grab the meat bun in front of you and raise it, "OKAY, OKAY, I'LL STOP, PUT IT DOWN. What I'm saying is I'll help you practice making a move on Kita, and we'll keep that ball rolling." Suna looks up for a second to think. "I'll be… teaching you how to be a girlfriend in a sense. We'll essentially be tutoring each other."
You're hesitant but this just became a really good deal (to you, at least). Right now, someone who's been in relationships before is sitting right in front of you. Not the best source of experience, considering his romantic track record isn't the best, but at this point; you're desperate.
If practice goes well… you might actually be able to confess to Kita.
"I-If we're doing this, we hav'ta establish ground rules!" You turn, digging through your bag to pull out your pen and a piece of paper.
Suna deadpans at you. "Ground rules?"
You glare back at him. "Terms and conditions. You know, boundaries?" You clarify.
He rolls his eyes but shrugs in resignation nevertheless. "Okay, I can play along with that." At his words, you begin to write.
"Firstly, no one should know about this deal, especially Kita. If I found out ya tell anyone else about this, god forbid those Miya twins, yer dead to me." You say sternly and Suna raises his hands to placate you.
"I wouldn't."
"I'm serious."
"Yes, got it."
You roll your eyes and begin writing the next rule. "Secondly, no half-assing lessons. I'm not wasting my time on someone who won't take their studies seriously in the first place."
"Well, same goes for you. I'm not gonna help anyone who's going to back out in the end get into any relationship." Suna shoots back, giving you an unamused stare and you nod.
"Deal. Thirdly, no making fun of Kita OR me."
"What does that—?"
"Yer mean most of the time."
Suna shuts his mouth, averting his eyes, before nodding his head and closing his eyes. "Fair enough." He says and you smirk, continuing to write.
"Next, no kissing."
Suna raises an eyebrow at that. "Don't you want to learn how to be a bit intimate with Kita?"
"I just—I want my first kiss to be with Kita, as sappy as that sounds." You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, ignoring the way Suna judges you. "First kisses are magical to me, okay?!"
"I don't see the appeal." Suna deadpans.
"You mean yer first kiss wasn't anything like that?" You ask, tilting your head. "Not like, chu~ kyaa~, like that?"
Suna cringes at your description but he thinks back to his first kiss nonetheless. His first kiss… when was his first kiss? Last year—
(Ruby red nails dig into his skin. Pink lips on his, confiscating his ability to breathe. Chartreuse eyes that once felt like a dream felt suffocating, suffocating, suffocating—)
"Nope." Suna answers simply, nonchalant. "Just a quick peck, on the lips, and then it was done."
"How romantic. As romantic as a chalkboard."
"Moving on, what's next?"
You look down at the paper, tapping the end of your pen on your lips. "No falling in love." Your words cause Suna's eyebrows to shoot straight up, a frown decorating his face.
"Sorry, High and Mighty, you're not my type." You glare at him back.
"You ain't mine either. Yer the best one fer this because yer the least likely ta develop feelins' for someone like me anyway." You start to explain, serious. "However, developing feelings will jeopardize our deal, so it's better if we remind ourselves. The mere exposure effect is a real thing."
"If it's real, then why hasn't Kita fallen for you yet?" Maybe if you throw your bag in his face, he'll finally quit being such a pain in the ass. The glare you send him physically makes him flinch.
"Smart enough ta know the exposure effect but not smart enough ta not flunk, my god." You mumble under your breath, loud enough for Suna to hear. He glares at you at your words. "Okay, I think that's it. Let's sign it."
Suna begrudgingly takes the paper you hand him after you sign your name at the bottom of the paper, skimming over the contents with a nonchalant glare.
Operation Help You Help Me
Rule 1: Deal should be TOP SECRET (especially to the Miya twins)
Rule 2: No half-assing lessons.
Rule 3: No making fun of Kita, bitch
Rule 4: No kissing
Rule 5: No falling in love
If rules are broken, if Suna fails midterms, or if Kita graduates without confession,
deal is off.
The title at the top of the paper makes him snort with derision, much to your chagrin. "'Operation Help You Help Me'? Seriously?" It's a silly name to him, like that of a grand plan of the main cast in a kids' TV show.
"Yes, it's a stupid name. Maybe we should change it. What about 'Secret Friends Society'? Or maybe 'Shut the Hell Up and Deal With It'?" Your sarcasm is too heavy for Suna to pretend to ignore.
"Okay, fine, damn, you're so hard to please." Suna grumbles as he signs his name next to yours on the paper, handing it back to you. The saccharine smile that starts to form on your face is starting to annoy him.
"Hey. If ya didn't try ta blackmail me, I would have agreed to tutor ya." You mock, smirking at the now openly irritated Suna, who tries to keep a forced smile on his face.
Suna's eyebrow twitches. He leans forward and places his elbows on the table, a subtle sign that he's not backing down and he's certainly not in your debt. "Looking forward to working with you, High and Mighty."
Crossing your legs, you giving Suna a closed eyed, sweet smile, mirroring his position. Lifting the meat bun to your mouth, you grin. "Likewise, Suna Rintarou."
The start of a deal. The start of a contract that will last for as long as Kita is in school.
His yellowish gray eyes meet your own.
What will become of the two of you at the end of the year?
….
"Wow, these meat buns are good."
"And you doubted me earlier."
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A/N: and i thought chapter 5 was the longest LMAO i hope you enjoyed this chapter. you and suna finally make the deal, what shenanigans shall you stir up in the next chapters?
I changed the Fujiwara Group to Asagao Group bc, upon further research which i didnt do initially, theres something called the Fujiwara Group already and THIS FIC IS NOT AFFILIATED OKAY PLS DONT HATE ME 😭
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FIRST MEET MiuMiu was a year out of high school and finishing her first year of college, some art course that she didn’t much care about since she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do in life. Always having an interest in anime and Japan’s aesthetic as a whole, she somehow convinced her parents to pay and allow her to visit Japan. MiuMiu goes by herself, but she managed to convince an older acquaintance at college to tell her parents they were going with her. 
It was full of firsts for her but very eye-opening to be out of her parents grasp. MiuMiu had never been on a plane by herself before, didn’t know the Japanese language and never roamed around a country outside of England by herself. There were a lot of issues and miscommunication but she managed for the most part. 
Her trip was two weeks long and her first week was spent living on conbini meals and filling five disposable cameras with pictures of Japan. When she met Suguru (and Satoru) she was trying to find a shrine that was recommended on her map, the receptionist helping mark the paper with very little English to help. After getting on a train and becoming lost, she comes across Jujutsu High. 
Satoru is the first to notice her and deems her an intruder, especially since the place should be so well hidden and guarded that locals and non-sorcerers could pass through. Their first interaction isn’t the greatest as he speaks Japanese asking what she’s doing there and how did she get in, while MiuMiu thinks she’s either going to be killed or deported early. Suguru was quick to follow and investigate, the pair realising she doesn’t speak a lick of Japanese when she pulls out a little translation book. 
They both think she’s cute, though they approach differently as Satoru doesn’t have the patience like Suguru does, using her book to help translate back and forth with her while trying to half tell Satoru to leave her alone. They decide to ditch any lessons they had since there were no missions and show her the temple, both a little too interested in her to send her on her way alone. 
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CONT Satoru sees how much Suguru likes her and the interest she reciprocates and lets them be; happy to be a third wheel since he can go wandering around Tokyo rather than boring lessons. They introduce themselves by name and get her name as they take her to the shrine she was looking for, talking between themselves and trying to get her involved. At the shrine they let her take photos and take everything in, whispering and giggling to themselves about how she has no idea what any of it means but then Suguru  takes this as a chance to go try and talk to her or at least stand with her as she looks at the shimenawa, Satoru encouraging him to hang out with her with a knowing grin. 
They manage to communicate briefly and he doesn’t want to leave her and just go back to school so he asks MiuMiu what her plans are for the rest of the day, hoping to slot himself and Satoru in there somewhere under the guise of helping her. She doesn’t have any plans which gives them free range to show her all the things they enjoy doing. 
Satoru is only a third wheel for a few hours and teases her in Japanese which she doesn’t know what he’s saying but the look on his face makes her concerned every time. They go out for lunch after they find out she’s not been to a restaurant yet, finding a cafe that makes a really good curry they sometimes like to get and they help her order trying to explain what’s in the stuff she’s looking at and they roughly communicate through it and it’s very good food! 
Other things they do are go to the arcade, saunter around Shibuya and meet up with Shoko who gossips with Satoru about the love birds who don’t even realise they’ve been isolated to themselves but go into cute shops she likes the look of and Suguru is trying to be discreet watching her and what she looks at along with generally trying to take in her appearance and finds himself absolutely enamoured even though they met just hours ago. If she has a question he helps her or if she’s looking for anything he helps and takes her there. When it gets dark they manage to get into the Tokyo sky tree and while she’s mesmerised and smiling at the beautiful and dreamy view of Tokyo, Suguru is watching the way her eyes shine and the gorgeous smile on her face, feeling himself falling hard and fast for the foreign girl he just met. 
They do karaoke at the end of the night and meet up with Nanami and Haibara. They eat while they’re there as dinner even though it’s almost like a bunch of snack foods, the energy is enough for none of them to think about it. Suguru keeps making sure she’s okay through it all, asking over the music and signing ‘daijoubu?’ And a little ‘ok’ hand signal to check in on her and she nods giving the signal back if she is. Eventually she joins in on a song but only after Satoru had bothered Nanami enough and she became more comfortable to sing but it was an English song no one else had heard of: I’m Not Okay by My Chemical Romance. 
End of the night Suguru offered to walk MiuMiu home, no one else having objections but they did try holding back their grins and Satoru got a groan when he made a comment about ‘the couple’. He walks her back to the hotel and it’s quiet but nice between them, she expresses she had a really nice day and she’s very thankful for him and the others. Suguru then asks if she wants to hang out tomorrow? If she has plans and doesn’t mind, he (and likely Satoru) can help her out. MiuMiu expresses how she would love that and they arrange to meet outside of the hotel the next day at a certain time. 
The rest of MiuMiu’s trip is spent with Suguru and sometimes his other friends, in particular Satoru as she grows accustomed to not listening to him. They take her to animal cafe’s, crepes in Harajuku, izakaya’s and sneakily take her drinks since she figured out Japanese staff don’t bother asking if she’s of age. So many restaurants and sights around Tokyo, Suguru even bought her a little gold charm bracelet she had been looking at during their first day meeting and surprised her with it. 
Their parting was almost tearful from MiuMiu because she was so grateful to have stumbled across them, going to sleep every night thinking about Suguru and what they would do the next day. She didn’t want to leave but it’s not like she can stay but he and Satoru wave her off to security at the airport and hug her goodbye, exchanging emails and even MySpace URL’s so they can keep in contact. Suguru had already left a comment on her page for her to get home to. 
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2006 - 2007 MiuMiu is sad to be home but happy when she sees a comment from Suguru to come home to, translating it with her book to say ‘Hello your profile is cute’. They immediately go back and forth with messages, Suguru buying his own translation book to understand her messages in response and the comments quickly turning into private messages and then adding each other onto MSN Messenger. They speak everyday even if it’s to say hello, their time zones make it awkward for one another to speak between their daily chores. 
After a few weeks of daily talking, MiuMiu surprises Suguru by buying a webcam and turning it on for him. He’s shocked because he had no idea but he’s so happy to be able to see her, even if it’s a low quality camera version of her. Actually, Suguru is glad he didn’t already have a camera or else she would’ve seen the stupid smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks at seeing her again. Even Satoru noticed the immovable smile on his face the rest of the day. 
Suguru buys himself a webcam a couple of days later, surprising her with it and her shocked face was priceless to him, making it easier for them to communicate but still watching each other go through translation books. This becomes a trend everyday until she manages to borrow money to see him again a year later. They share their lives with each other, though Suguru plays it up a little and tells her he’s at a traditional Japanese training school that’s nothing like actual school. After six months of constant talking and flirting, Suguru is finally convinced by everyone to ask her to be his girlfriend and she says yes of course, not realising everyone was hidden out of frame (Satoru and Shoko). 
The Hidden Inventory arc happens shortly after MiuMiu leaves for the UK. Suguru doesn’t mention it to her in any capacity, though he does isolate himself afterwards to recover, shortly after getting the webcam and telling her he’s sick but he can still talk. She doesn’t think much of it, simply happy to talk to him and respecting his boundaries of not wanting to talk about his illness. While Suguru is spiralling the entire year, one of his only happinesses is talking to MiuMiu everyday, struggling with his mental health and the trauma of what happened, soon enough not even seeing her as a ‘monkey’ he’d come to resent. 
She finishes her college degree and goes into University for Games Design, celebrating by going to visit Suguru the year later. Suguru still hasn’t disclosed what had happened, what he actually does and abilities or the mental health spiral he’s experiencing. 
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2007 VISIT/PRE-DEFECT tba
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3 notes · View notes
venus-haze · 2 years
Note
Hi battie !!!
How are you doing my love ?? It’s been so long since I’ve talked to you 😭❤️ I hope that life has been treating you good recently 💕 how was your day ? I hope your day/night has been good .
I was wondering if I could request just a super fun and quirky little set of head cannons for yandere!vampire!elvis x modern!reader ?? Maybe because of the fact that Elvis is a vampire in this situation he lives long enough into the modern 20’s and he still haunts the international hotel [?] and he’s just been cooped up and kept inside so he doesn’t know how long it’s been ?
Like to him this was all just a long year maybe and then reader shows up , and he realizes it’s been a long , long , time . And reader’s like one of us , has Social media [ omg have you seen those funny ass skits of the people acting like Elvis in the new Elvis movie ?? They’re so funny , I can just imagine reader and Elvis making fun of the kernel or however his name is spelt] is an Elvis fan like the rest of us [which is why she went to visit the hotel , to see what it was like and to just fangirl over it] and how would him and reader would become besties 😝 and she would just explain to him like modern day stuff and music and … omg how would he react to reader being like an absolute die-heart fan of Harry styles ?? I feel like that would be funny because I feel like Elvis would just be like [ … 😀 ya serious ? He’s just like me ]
But anyways how would he feel when he realizes that reader is about to leave ? I mean it is a hotel , she can’t stay there forever , but readers like the one person Elvis has actually liked and befriended over like 50-100 years of being stuck there. I feel like that’s when his yandere side would come out…
Anyways , I am sure that if you decide to do my request I will be so so happy . And remember that I will always love everything that you put out. And plus that fanfic that you released on Saturday was so so good battie !!! Blew me away , it was so amazing ❤️ remeber to take care of yourself and to drink water and to eat something!! Your health matters most ❤️
-H
Hi H! I hope you’ve been doing well too💖 This is such an interesting request, I’d definitely love to write it! I may change some of the aspects like the time period to maybe be a bit more 90s and the reader is part of one of those old school fan forums when she decides to go to Vegas with a crappy little disposable camera to have her “Elvis trip.” I definitely want there to be the aspect of the reader becoming trapped herself and essentially going missing like you said, but with how technology tracks everything now that aspect might be difficult to pull off with a contemporary setting. I hope that’s okay!
🦇 Battie
13 notes · View notes
crimsonheart01 · 2 years
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The Right Connection [Chapter 5] (Dieter Bravo x Fem!Reader)
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Author’s Note: Tripping in the tropics and champagne flowing. Kevin asking himself ‘Am I the drama?’. Missed connections with some poolside pining. Oh - and it’s real flower, called brugmansia. Bisous!
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Next update for this little series will be coming soon.
Summary: Dieter Bravo is the celebrity host on a new dating reality TV show and she was signed up by her friends as a joke. She decides to try and stick it out for the prize money and keep everyone else away from her. Word Count: 5.1k Playlist: Turning My Up (Hadal Ahbek) - Issam Alnajjar, Loud Luxury, Ali Gatie Warnings: Recreational drug use, alcohol, horny, shallow people, swearing, innuendo, contempt, annoyance, slow burn. Disclaimer: ✨ If you are under 21, please do not interact.✨
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“It's too late to go out, so I'm thinking 'bout you and a rendezvous I say we should do my place Call me when you're outside, babe” Turning Me Up (Hadal Ahbek) -Issam Alnajjar, Loud Luxury & Ali Gatie
With nothing else to occupy his time, Dieter found himself indulging to a higher point of relish than he’d previously been doing. He had several hours to kill and a variety of vices at his disposal. A quick stop to his room to grab a specific baggie and his phone, he was off and walking farther away from the resort without so much as a glance back.
He’d already explored a bit of the landscape before the show officially started filming, so he wasn’t worried about straying too far away. He knew there were a few nature trails along the road leading to the compound. Keeping his mind on his destination, he walked a good fifteen minutes, away from the resort and away from the prying eyes of cameras and contestants.
Coming up to the path, leading off the main dirt road, up the side of the cliff, he paused and looked in both directions, confirming that he was well and truly alone. With a nod to himself he pulled out his baggie and opened it. He stared down at the fungi sitting in there. He exhaled through his nose, was it worth the trip? He looked out at the horizon, accidentally noticing the mini yacht floating a ways off the retreat beach. He sniffed, nodding to himself. With the time he had to kill, might as well have some fun with it.  
He tipped the baggie towards himself, opened his mouth and let the contents fall in. His mouth watered as the mushrooms landed on his tongue and he swallowed them down. Pleased with himself, he grinned up at nothing and shook out the stress from his shoulders, ready for a warm trip in the sun. This was one of the perks of this job. He could take off when he wasn’t needed to play host and just be. No distractions, no interruptions. Just him and the tropical landscape.
Veering onto the path, he hiked his way up the slight incline and even further into the brush, away all those housed in the throes of the games being played. Instead, he focused on the sun shining down on him and the way it warmed him.
~(TRC)~
The champagne popped and she held her glass out for James to fill it. She smiled brilliantly, watching the way the liquid bubbled in her glass. She waited until James had topped his own drink up and together, they cheersed, making eye contact over the rims of their sunglasses. She tipped the flute back and sipped at the drink.
She felt good. She was sitting on the deck of a mini yacht, a designated driver hanging out below deck and with the company of a beautiful man. There wasn’t much else she could ask for. At least, that’s what she was trying to convince herself of, but the longer the conversation went on with James, she found herself wishing for something more.
There was no spark, no connection, with him. He was gorgeous, and he was nice. He had a great smile, and he knew how and when to compliment her. Everything was going perfectly for a date, but there was something missing. Everything between them completely was superficial. He had a clear end game, with no recourse for anything to follow up after that.
She sighed to herself and leaned further back into her seat. She gazed out at the scenery around her. The rolling ocean, the cliffs, the trees and greenery. It was exceptionally beautiful out here, and if she could swing it, she’d happily spend the rest of the entire retreat on this boat. She was tempted to ask if they could dock it and let her sleep out here nightly. The sounds of the waves up in the cabana were her daily lullaby but actually being on the water? With the subtle rock of the ocean? She knew, without a doubt, it would be even better.
“So,” James started, interrupting her thoughts, “What are you looking for in a man?”
There was a smirk hidden behind his smile and she chuckled, seeing through his façade right away. She exhaled and grinned before leaning forward. James’ eyes sparkled at her actions and followed, leaning in closer. She set her glass down on the table between them and shook her head.
“I’m sorry to do this to you,” She explained, “but I have some bad news.” She watched as his brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re not actually on Pleasure Island. You’re on The Right Connection.”
She placed her hand on his knee and patted it with a sad smile. She watched the several emotions that filtered over his face at her revelation until he shook his head and smiled in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” He exclaimed, “The Right Connection? Was all this a big waste of your time then?”
She sat back in her seat, tucking one leg under her, “Not at all. I had a great time, but I didn’t want you to think this would go any further.”
He nodded, understanding, and then remained quiet for a few moments, clearly lost to his own thoughts. A gust of wind blew around them and she reached up to tuck her hair back out of her face. When she looked up, she found herself staring over at the cliff a little ways off from the retreat. The one that had a beaten path up the side from the main road. She wondered what the view looked like from up there and if there was a chance for her to sneak up there.
“Hypothetically,” James said, and she turned back to him, “If this had been Pleasure Island, did you see this going anywhere?” He waved a hand between the two of them.
She took a moment to contemplate her answer. Should she be honest? Tell him that no, she didn’t see this proceeding any further than this in any other situation. Not at his fault, but purely because she wasn’t ready for any of the messiness that relationships brought. It didn’t matter if they were purely casual or not. She didn’t want it, not anymore.
“There’s always potential,” She smiled over at him, opting to choose for a non-confrontational answer.
Everyone at the house already hated her, she could at least start with this new contestant on better footing. He nodded, grinning back over at her. He brandished the champagne bottle back at her, shaking it from side to side by way of asking if she wanted another top up. She plucked her glass up off the table and tilted it in his direction and he began to pour.
Their date had a strict time limit, and before either of them knew it, their captain was back behind the wheel and starting up the engines to bring them back to shore. She was happy that the conversation between her and James flowed freely. It never felt stilted or forced. There was an easy air about him, and she was grateful for that fact.
She couldn’t say a lot about James, but it was undoubtably clear that he was a perfect gentleman. Whether it was part of his front, or genuine, she didn’t care. It felt nice to have someone treat her like a princess, even for a short amount of time. The minute their yacht was docked, he was the first to jump up and climb onto the dock. He didn’t leave her hanging for even a second, as he turned and held out a hand to her. Offering his support as she climbed off the boat. His grip on her was steady but not too tight, giving her the option to pull away without any qualms.  
He offered her his arm, and enjoying their moment, she looped her hand through the crook and rested it comfortably against him. She led him in the direction of the compound, pointing out the several recreational areas they had set up along the way. He seemed to be the most interested in the outdoor gym and she smothered a laugh at that. Yes, the age old “rippling muscles in the sunlight” trope clearly starting to form in the forefront of his mind.
As she led him up the steps from the beach into the main contestant area, she began pulling her arm away from him. Her demeanour getting smaller. He arched an eyebrow in question at her and she gave him a non-committal shrug. He paused, waiting for her to explain the flip in her personality. She exhaled and closed her eyes, letting her shoulders drop.
“Listen,” She spread her hands out in front of her, “I’m not the most loved contestant on the show. I’m ‘fondly’ referred to as the banker.” She was sure to emphasis her sarcasm as she explained the situation.
He peered over at her, “How come?”
She shrugged, “I’m a bit of a stickler for the rules. I want to win the cash prize.”
He let out a small huff of a laugh and nodded.
“No hard feelings if you don’t want to keep talking after this.” She said, getting the inevitable out in the open.
It was fairly obvious that allegiances were a thing here, and she wasn’t a part of any of them. She didn’t want to hurt the new guy’s chances at getting something out of the retreat. Not at the expense of being friendly with her. He eyed her carefully for a minute, as if to judge the seriousness of her statement.
“I think it’ll be just fine,” He smiled and then stuck his arm out to her again.
Her eyebrows shot up at his answer and she could be honest enough with herself that it felt good. He was likely to change his tune after spending time with the rest of the group, but at least in this moment he was confident enough to not be swayed by peer pressure. She thanked him with a smile of her own and continued onward.
It didn’t take long for word to get out that her and James were back at the house and soon they were running into the group at different turns as she gave him the tour. She saw the glint in Shereen’s eye as she subtly checked him out and despite herself, she found herself happy for her fellow contestant. If they were here looking for something real, she didn’t want to stand in anyone’s way.
She quickly disentangled her arm from James and introduced him immediately to Shereen, calling her over to them. She asked if Shereen was interested in showing James the shared spaces and judging by James’ shit-eating grin, she made a great call. Shereen slipped into her vacated spot and winked over at her in thanks. Smiling at the two of them as they walked away, she made her way to the bathroom, grabbing her toiletries and immediately jumping into the shower.
~(TRC)~
Dieter laid out in the long grass of the cliffside, staring up at the clouds as they swirled and danced before his eyes. He felt the lazy grin on his mouth and ran his tongue along the outsides of his teeth, the sensation wonderfully satisfying. He sighed into the chilly breeze of the oncoming evening and knew that it was time to get himself back to the compound. He didn’t want to risk getting stuck out here in the dark, by himself.
He stood up in slow and calculated movements. First sitting, then bending his legs, planting his feet on the ground and then pushing himself to stand up right. As he righted himself, he felt as the world around him warped and funneled. He froze, keeping himself in limbo, his hands hovering around him in case he lost his balance. He waited as his equilibrium came back around and steadied him. Once he was confident, he could walk in a semi straight line, he was trapsing down the path back towards the main road.
He knew he’d lost all track of time in his wanderings when he looked up to find himself shrouded in darkness. He blinked several times, his eyes wide as he stared around. He was close enough that the lights from the retreat were emitting a soft glow out onto the road where he was standing. He nodded to himself, remembering that he’d been on his way back.
He trekked his way up the front walkway and paused when one of the hanging planters caught his attention. He studied the white flowers of the vine that hung next to him. If he wasn’t mistaken, they looked suspiciously similar to trumpets. He pouted in thought, wondering what the name of this flower was and if it was named after the shape that they took.
With careful fingers, he reached forward and plucked one flower. He held it before him, spinning the stem to make it twirl. A brilliant smile pulled up on his mouth when he thought of someone who would appreciate him sharing his musings - and findings - with. With renewed purpose, he made his way deeper into the house, bypassing his room completely and crossing the bridge into the cabana. He padded quietly over to the bench, curling his hands along the back and peered down only to find the bench completely empty.
He frowned, fully expecting to have found her - at the very least - lounging there, if she hadn’t already fallen asleep. He pushed back and gazed around, seeing a few of the other contestants milling around on the far side of the house and then heard a few male voices coming up on his right. However, no matter where he looked, or listened, there was no hint of her anywhere.
A bitter splash of cold reality washed over him as he remembered where she’d been this afternoon. Sniffing, he wiped the back of his hand underneath his nose and let the flower drop from his grasp to the floor. He turned on his heel and retreated his way back to his side of the compound, where he could continue pretending he wasn’t affected by the events of today.
He slipped past his bedroom door and immediately slid the lock into place on his entry. He didn’t need any interruptions tonight. He beelined for the mini fridge under the TV and whipped it open. It was slim pickings but at least he still had a fifth of rum unopened. With a strong twist, he cracked the bottle open and poured himself a generous amount.
He cheersed the air with a bitter chuckle and downed the entire glass in one go. He slammed the empty glass down onto the dresser and then promptly threw himself unceremoniously onto his bed. He let out an aggravated groan, wiping a hand down his face and turned over into his pillows to will himself to fall asleep.
~(TRC)~
After smoothing a generous amount of lotion onto her skin, she packed up all her things and put them away in her designated cupboard. She grabbed an extra sweater from her closet and then made her way over to the cabana to relax. She yawned as she circled around the back of the bench and jumped back with a small gasp when her foot stepped on something soft and velvety. She clenched her teeth and she glanced down, hoping beyond all hope that it hadn’t been a bug.
She stared down at the pale flower laying on the floor and then looked around to see if it had fallen from any one of the many plants around. She frowned when it didn’t match any of the other flowers, so she bent down to pick it up. She held it up and turned it from side to side. She brought it up against a few of the white flowers in the planter next to the bench but shook her head when it wasn’t a match.
With a shrug, she continued on her way but this time with the flower in her hand. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt compelled to keep it. Something about it drawing her in. It looked familiar so she was sure it came from somewhere around here. She’d figure it out it in the morning. In the meantime, she pressed it under her pillow and reached over to grab her blanket.
As she was leaned over the back of the bench, she found Dieter’s room in her direct line of sight. She cocked her head to the side, wondering if he was out for a smoke right now. She couldn’t necessarily call it a routine, but more often than she cared to admit, he’d find her for them to participate in their own version of a night cap.
She took a deep centering breath and chose to tug her blanket over her instead of seeking him out. She wasn’t sure if they’d reached a point where she would be welcome going to him. For now, it was the safer option to wait for him to come to her. They were his drugs after all. It was at his discretion to share them, or not.
~(TRC)~
He swore loudly as the pounding on his door increased. With a growl, he threw the blankets away from his body and swung his legs out of his bed, stalking towards the door. He fumbled with the lock, finally getting it unlocked and ripped it open with a snarl on his face. He was not in the mood to be messed with this early in the morning.
“What do you want?” He demanded.
Jemma raised her eyebrows up at him, “You slept in, Dieter. It’s almost 10 am and we have to do a group recap of yesterday.”
He blinked slowly, bringing a hand up to tug at his already mussed hair. He hadn’t realized how late in the morning it was. The general wake up call around here was 8 am. Not that it mattered too much most days, but damn, why couldn’t today be one of the days that they didn’t need him.  
“Take 5 minutes, get yourself presentable and I’ll be back to run you through all that happened last night.” Jemma turned and left without giving him the option to argue.
He groaned and let go of the door, letting it shut by itself as he turned and made his way to his ensuite. He didn’t want to know what happened. He didn’t want the run down. He wanted to be left alone. He hadn’t slept properly last night, plagued by weird dreams again.
He grimaced at himself in the bathroom mirror, still wearing yesterday’s clothes, all wrinkled now. The bags under his eyes were darker than he would have liked and the whites of his eyes looking the slightest bit bloodshot. Shaking himself, he turned the taps on and splashed himself with the freezing cold water before brushing his teeth.
Six minutes later, he was seated on the edge of his bed, holding his head in his hands when a lighter knock sounded.
“Come in,” He grumbled.
The door inched open, and Jemma peeked around. She gave him a welcoming smile and he just stared at her unhappily.
She chuckled, “I know it sucks, but once we’re done the group recap, you’re free to come back to bed. I promise.”
He waved dismissively at the whole thing, “Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this done and over with.”
“Alright, well a rule was broken last night,” Jemma stared to explain, and he immediately tensed beside her.
Of course, the rules were broken. New contestants who were dead set on setting foot on a singles paradise were bound to tempt those who knew what the reality of the show was. He clenched his teeth but remained quiet, letting Jemma get through the whole spiel.
“It’s going to cause major drama. No one will have expected this to have happened.”
He swallowed, realizing what she meant. There was only one person no one would suspect of breaking the rules. The only person who seemed to value to rules more than everyone else. He closed his eyes, grateful for the fact that he’d already donned his signature sunglasses. At least they helped keep his expression neutral while he had to endure the absolute garbage that this show was.
Jemma stood up and he followed behind her, nodding and answering with a hum at the appropriate intervals. He split off from her, keeping in mind the notes she’d given him when they approached the cabana. He purposely kept his eyes locked on the speaker sitting on the table, refusing to glance at any of the contestants.
When he’d had a better night’s sleep he’d be more amicable, but right now he just wanted to get this over with, with as little interaction as possible.
“Good morning everyone,” Betty chimed to life.
The group answered in kind and he accidentally looked directly at her. She was sitting alone, like always, but she had a soft smile on her face. He averted his eyes quickly, scanning the rest of the group.
He cleared his throat, “Welcome to our newcomers, I hope you weren’t too disappointed with the revelation of which show you’ve actually been cast on.”
The group broke into a subdued round of laughter. He leaned heavy against the post near him, taking a moment to take a good look at the two new faces of the group. He hadn’t gotten to see them yesterday and now was as good as ever.
Betty slowly recapped the afternoon and evening dates from the day before. He noticed a sneaky expression cross the new girl’s face. He furrowed his brows, wondering what that look was for.
“Unfortunately,” Betty announced, and there was a collective gasp, “There was a rule break last night.”
Dieter didn’t mean to notice but he did. She sat up abruptly and her eyes searched for the new guys and they both looked strained. He swallowed thickly turning his head away and focusing intently on the speaker instead.
“Kevin,” Betty paused while out of the corner of his eye he saw the girlfriend, who’s name he couldn’t remember for the life of him, grip the hand of Kevin. Her lips were pursed as if she was expecting the worst but was wishing for the best.
“C’mon guys, just own up to it.” Jasmine called out to the group, “We already know that Dieter and Betty know who broke the rules. Come clean.”
Most of the group nodded along, except for the new girl, whose expression had darkened into a more devious look than before. Dieter cocked his head to side, comparing her reaction to everyone else. He spared a glance in the direction of the one person he was trying to avoid, and he saw the confusion laced in her face. Betty waited a full minute, but no one spoke up.
“And Tamara, were the ones to break the rules, resulting in another $2,500 taken away from the prize fund.”
Dieter watched as his ‘girlfriend’ snapped up onto her feet, ripping her hand from his grip and turned red with embarrassment. Tamara sat back, crossed her legs and grinned to herself. The whole group jumped into an uproar, Jasmine reaching for Christina and pulling her into a hug. Kevin’s face paled while the other guys were experiencing a mix of frustration and jealousy at their fellow contestant.
However, he found he didn’t care. Jemma said there was only one rule break last night. That meant that this was the only reveal that was going to happen. It meant that nothing else happened on either date. Meaning that whatever happened on her date, she didn’t break any rules. She stayed true to herself and didn’t get caught up in the stunt.
He coasted through the next several minutes, his mind racing. He felt a flicker of irritation at himself for falling for the gimmicks of the show but the pride at the fact that she stuck to her guns flooded through his system, overpowering every other emotion that was fighting for dominance within him. He kept an ear out, listening to Betty finish up with her task and then dismissing everyone.
He turned, in search of her immediately but was surprised to see that she was no longer sitting in the lounger. He couldn’t explain to himself why he was looking for her, but something in him wanted to talk to her. Did he morbidly want to know how things went on her date? Yes, but he could keep that little tidbit to himself.
With another quick look around, he decided to make his way to the kitchen. Regardless of everything else, he was starving and desperately needed some caffeine. Once he was in better spirits, he could figure out what to do with the rest of his day. He could figure out the best way to approach her that wasn’t him offering her a joint in the middle of the night.
~(TRC)~
She sighed to herself, taking a sip of the mid morning cocktail she’d made herself. She was lounging in the half mesh pool floatie, figuring that if she secluded herself to the middle of the pool, she was not likely to get pulled into the roaring drama of betrayal happening with her housemates currently.
She wasn’t surprised it happened. It only enforced her idea that the whole ‘making connections’ was a complete farce that no one took seriously. She settled further back, stretching her legs and arms out before leaning her head back. With her eyes closed she smiled up into the sunshine, feeling as it warmed her while she floated in the quiet.
She was content to spend the rest of her day soaking up the sunshine in the quiet but her plans were quickly dashed when a dark shadow cast over her. Her eyes snapped open and she stared up at the sky but found it clear of any clouds. She leaned forward and turned to see a tall body from the corner of her eye.
She turned and standing on the edge of the pool was none other than Dieter. He looked out of place, with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his swim shorts but he was staring directly at her. His head tilted down and his brown eyes meeting hers over the rims of his sunglasses. She chanced another glance around and found that it was only the two of them out here.
It struck her as odd that he was there when he’d never sought her out in daylight before. She was under the impression that their little nightly meetups were a secret so to have him regarding her from across the pool made her stomach do a flip. She was excited. She couldn’t explain why, but his presence there, him watching her, excited her.
Without breaking his gaze with her, he eased himself down, sitting along the edge of the pool. Dipping his legs into the water. Taking that as her cue, she leaned back in her floatie and using only her hands, she pushed herself through the water until she was bumping up against the lip of the pool, directly beside him.
With as little disturbance to the water as possible, she lifted her legs up onto the concrete of the deck to drape them along the surface, acting as her anchor. Her right leg brushed against Dieter’s thigh and they both paused, staring at the touch. As she was about to pull away, she was surprised to find Dieter lean into it further by spreading his legs a touch and pressing his leg against hers deliberately.
She held in the tiny gasp that formed in the back of her throat, instead choosing to pluck her drink from its holder and take a long sip. When she was confident that her voice wouldn’t crack or sound unnecessarily breathless she met his gaze once again.
“Morning,” She greeted, “Slept well?”  
He sniffed, hiding a chuckle and lifted his hand to run through his hair giving her a shrug, “Could’ve been better.”
She pouted, a small inkling forming in her subconscious, wondering if there was something more laying beneath his words. It was if he was being purposely vague.
“I noticed the absence of an invite last night,” She said, pinning him with an imploring look.
This time he let the chuckle escape, “Ah, I see how it is. Missed out on your fix. Is that all I’m good for? The drugs? Not the conversation?”
She grinned at his teasing tone and nudged him lightly with her foot. He reached out and circled his hand around her ankle, tugging her closer. This time, her gasp made itself known at his simple touch. Her eyes were drawn to how his hand wrapped around her.
“You missed out last night, sweetheart,” He taunted, “I took an eighth of shrooms and saw the universe.”
She had to tear her eyes away from where he was holding her to pout up at him.
“Shrooms? And you didn’t think to bring a friend along for the trip?” She shook her head and let out a long-suffering sigh, “I’m disappointed, Dieter.”
He grinned over at her, his laughter bouncing off the water and echoing around her.
“I found these amazing flowers,” He started to explain, “Now, I’m not a hundred percent if they were real, but they looked exactly like little trumpets hanging on the vines. Or maybe it was a tree. Who knows, I can’t remember, but they were a sight to see.”
She cocked her head to the side, the description reminding her of something familiar but as the recollection was starting to form, she was distracted by the smooth swipe of Dieter’s thumb along her ankle bone. She zeroed in on where his hand was placed and loosened its grip on her, but he hadn’t let go.
Feeling bold at his ministrations, she delicately lifted both her legs and crossed them over his thigh, leaving her feet to settle in his lap. She watched as his eyebrows lifted at her bravado, but his smirk gave away how he really felt. She bit down on her lip and grinned over at him. His hand stretched out over both her ankles he gave them a tight squeeze in recognition.
She felt a swoop of excitement and something a bit more personal in her stomach as she leaned back on her floatie while Dieter continued to detail his entire trip from yesterday. She didn’t want to think too hard on what the sensations she was experiencing right now meant, knowing it would lead down a road she couldn’t realistically do anything about. Right now, she was going to force herself to be content with the fact that she’d somehow made friends with the movie star of her generation.
43 notes · View notes
elinor-taylor · 1 year
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July - Sept '93
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Among the woodland shadows, nestled between powerful oaks and twisted yews, stood a small cottage, not unlike the one belonging to her friend, Dale, before it was reduced to cinders. It was quiet here, no birdsong or hum. Just the gentle snores of several dozen sleeping trolls.
Marie opened her father's journal and began to read.
***
On this day, July 9th, 1993
I have decided that in this volume and all those that follow, my entries shall relate only to my trips through the gate. From this point on, I think it best to separate the extraordinary from my other, everyday entries. It's becoming clear as the months pass that the two can not mix, despite what D might think. I suspect he would abandon this place in a heartbeat given the option.
He does seem rather enamoured with Marble Falls and the greater Yorkshire area. Each time he comes to watch me at the windows of one of the many churches and cathedrals I'm contracted to clean, he sits happily for hours on the guttering. It takes some convincing for me to get him to return home.
I have to admit he is good company, jolly little fellow that he is, and always in such good spirits, even if his never-ending questions do grate on my nerves on occasion. So I'm loathed to talk him out of it. It seems a fair trade that as I spend time in his homeland (albeit adopted), he should spend time in mine.
That said, were the council to find out how I'd been smuggling him through there'd be hell to pay!
***
On this day, July 31st, 1993
Marie has been asking about her forest friends again. I can tell she would greatly like to return to Diamond. She did, after all, have such a wonderful visit the last time. Unsurprising that the mind of a child sees only the best and not the worst of a place and its people. She needs it to be true, more so than I, I think.
By way of placating her, I took pictures on a small disposable camera left over from the birthday party she went to the other week, that of one of her playschool friends. The little girl, who was turning 6, is obviously blessed with a mother far more able to engage and organise than my dear Barbara. They put on quite the do.
I snapped a few shots of the village folk in Faretheewell proper, who were kind enough to pose despite thinking me quite mad. 'So we'll be inside this box?' Manny asked, incredulous at the notion of his image being transferred to little squares of paper.
I did my best to explain. Perhaps I shall take the pictures to show them when I get them developed. I know Dale especially would get a kick out of it.
I would've stayed longer but for the fact we were interrupted by odd noises coming from the southerly end of the forest, where the woods join the land that leads to the city. I was ushered back to the gate quick smart by the Harrows, who had just gotten through warning me of possible repercussions of the industrial developments in Must. And who I had just gotten through telling not to be so alarmist.
Right on cue, it began: a wailing noise. We were all disturbed by it. Connie Harrow, may her own god love her, looked as if all the blood had left her face and drained down into her boots.
I've decided it's probably a good idea to listen more closely to the residents from now on. I sometimes forget I am merely passing through Diamond and therefore have less claim on an opinion.
***
On this day, August 17th, 1993
If only I could tell Barbara about this place. I believe with all my heart that it would help her, that she would find comfort in the magical properties of who and what resides in these woods. I feel sure she could heal and recover here. Alas, I doubt I could find the words to encourage her out of her stupour in order to make the journey. Words are all I have, and even those fail me when it comes to her. Besides, there's a chill in the air I can not describe.
What to do?
***
On this day, August 21st, 1993
Another day in Faretheewell. I spent the afternoon helping Dale clear his path of debris left by the rioters. What a mess!
We swept and piled up a fair amount. But with each barrowful shifted, another ten seemed to appear. We joked that it was magic rubbish and that the fairy folk had cursed us to forever have to clear our paths, as they are forever cursed to clear the air of our mess. Wouldn't blame them, frankly. Karma's a bitch, as the saying goes.
Dale is giving thought to moving away from his cottage in the forest. I can see he's becoming twitchy following the latest round of protests. There's only so many times you can rebuild, so many times you can tell yourself it'll settle, before you have to take a long hard look at the situation and decide if this is the best place for you to be.
I told him I'd support him whatever he chooses to do and that his safety should be his priority. Faretheewell is delightful, but it isn't the most important thing. He can find another place if it comes down to it. And I would, of course, help him in any way I can.
For now, though, he's staying where he is. He knows the armies are building in strength. The North have influence and are doing their best to sway the will of the cunning but inherently non-violent woodland fae. And it's seems from the amount of crap we're having to clear that their tactics are working.
But he's staying. He says this is his home and he'll leave only when he chooses, or in a box.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that.
***
On this day, September 2nd, 1993
I spoke with a troll today. He told me his name was Johan. I shared with him the sandwiches I'd brought, and he was kind enough to share his interesting perspective on the cultural shift the people of Diamond have felt of late. I sat for the longest time listening to him speak. Trolls, I've come to realise, are the historians of Diamond and are the most fascinating of sorts.
Johan told me that this wasn't the first time such a shift had occurred, that this happens periodically. Cyclical, he said. I'm of a mind to believe him as he and the other trolls know things the rest of us can only imagine.
I stopped short of asking how it might end, and instead thanked him for his time before going on my way.
I wondered afterwards, if I had asked the question, would he have told me the truth even if the answer wasn’t in my favour? Either way - if he'd lied to save my feelings or given me the honest, unvarnished truth - I suspect he'd have done so with best intentions. He seemed that way inclined.
I hope to one day cross paths with him again, but I fear other forces are at play, and the people here are growing increasingly nervous. Better I don't draw attention to the kindly ones by seeking them out, or else risk them as well as myself.
***
On this day, September 24th, 1993
This place is changing. The last time I visited, I was welcomed with open arms and treated like one might treat a family member. But today, I entered the woods to the sound of cries. I followed the sound and discovered a young couple with their newborn, hiding in a ditch. 'Go back!' they said. 'We're not safe here anymore.'
Naturally, I was shaken by this. But still, I went on. I know the village and this part of the woods, and I know there is nothing to fear. These are the kindest, most welcoming folks I know. What could there possibly be to fear?
I would later come to discover that the young family I had just encountered had good reason for fleeing Faretheewell. I saw them again on my return, only this time they were in no position to talk, their mouths and ears stuffed as they were with moss and twigs, their eyes staring blindly at the sky. I pray that by stopping them on their way to talk I didn't in some way bring about this hideous end.
Even the baby.
That beautiful innocent baby.
I cannot bring my darling girl back here again. The image of her like that-
***
Marie closed the journal. She didn't want to read anymore.
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Fluff Prompt! Fi taking a picture of Sev smiling or in his element :')
Fi is fumbling with the kodak disposable as Sev is cooing at Mird and getting the old bloodhound on his lead. At least the older hound prefers the harness rather than a collar lead, like Spar’s freaky little greyhound who they thankfully are not taking care of this trip.
It’s a vacation, for them, to visit Sev’s dad and take in the sights while they’re about the US. It’s weird, being in this big ass country instead of back home in Aotearoa, but Sev’s dad had jumped from the UK to Aotearoa, where he’d met Sev’s other dad, back to the UK, then to the US, all for work, and Spar’d gone with him to play hostess for dinner parties since his return to the UK while Jas stayed back.
One day, allegedly, Walon’s moving back. Once he retires. Spar and Jaster and Jango all always roll their eyes at that.
So Fi and Sev went to visit and now Walon’s on a business trip and Spar kicked them out of the house so she could sex up her Scottish doctor “friend” (read: Fi is pretty sure they’re going to announce their engagement soon judging by that rock on Spar’s finger).
Sev is the one who suggested they go Arizona.
Fi takes a quick snap of Sev as he helps Mird out of the back of the car, acting casual when his boyfriend looks up again.
“Where’s the overlook?” Sev asks.
Fi points up the trail marker for going up to Hopi Point. “Four kilometres thataway.”
Sev huffs and Mird huffs along with him, but they start that way, leaving Fi to grab the pack with the bottles of water and a bowl for Mird and lock up the car. The hike isn’t bad, really, compared to some of the ones they’ve done on vacations from university. When Sev’d first wanted to go visit Walon, Fi’d kind of mourned that tradition, since they’re graduating soon. But Sev’d been right, and this trip to Arizona wasn’t their first hike.
And Walon’d tossed him a pack of kodak cameras and grinned at him.
Well, Fi can take a hint.
As they get closer to the overlook, there are way more people they’re walking around. Mird gets plenty of attention, because he’s a delightful old dog, even if a lot of the other tourists are giving the two of them the side eye. Sev doesn’t notice, excitement growing as they come up to the edge.
Mird takes control, dragging Sev up to the edge.
Fi gets the camera up just in time to snap a shot of Sev looking out at the Grand Canyon with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen him make. And that includes the time—well.
He also gets one of Sev grinning as he turns to him.
“Get over here, Fi,” he calls, eyes glittering.
Fi can’t help but smile too, before he’s hefting the pack higher and going to join his boyfriend.
Maybe Spar and her friend have the right idea.
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Disney's are Family Too(Sneak Peak Their Golden Years Chpter 1980)
A/N: Dorothy was actually watched by Mickey and Minnie whenever the other Looney Tunes couldn't. Bugs and Mickey are like pseudo brothers bonding over carrying the loads they do being the Lead stars of 2 of the Largest Company's in the Industry.
............
"Daffy she dropped her pacy in the car-" Dolly whined in her father's arms as he walked up the porch as she started to cry,"Hey its okay little kit, Papa Dafs got your pacifier"
The duck ran up behind holding the item up,
"Right here duckling," He offered it to their daughter just as the door opened, Mickey smiling fondly,
"Heard someone's being fussy," he playfully teased as the little girl grabbed the item offered to her and settled sucking on it,
"Dolly dropped her favorite dummy in the car, so-"
"Little miss was throwing a fit" he opened his arms as Bugs nodded smiling as he passed the child to him along with slinging her Diaper bag around his shoulder, "Hi Dolly, how's my niece doing,"
She just blinked at him, before smiling, patting his cheek,
"Hi Unca Mike!" He laughed, as Bugs and Daffy shook their heads,
"She is the only one who gets away with that he playfully threatened as Dolly looked over his shoulder crowing
"Ant Mimi!" And Mickey turned so Minnie could scoop her up,
"Hello little rabbit! Oh Aunties so excited to see you," She hugged the little girl as she laughed, before side hugging Bugs so she didn't squish the kit,"We got her promise,"
"Oh I know, just a whole month. It's gonna be long" Bugs sighed, Daffy nodded in agreement as he set down the suitcase full of her clothing
"We will take so many photos for you two, and we have a special trip planned." Mickey grinned before playing peek a boo with Dolly, who squealed a big smile on the kits face,
The Duck and Rabbit smiled watching the interaction,
"Oh we know she'll have fun. I just wish it wasn't so long," The pair of mice gave him a knowing expression as the clock chimed
"Oh bugger we need to be going to the airport, " The rabbit leaned down and placed a kiss to his child's forhead Daffy doing the same, cupping his ducklings face as she leaned into the touch he said
"You be good for them, okay?" Their kit bobbed her head
"Kay Papa!" Another kiss was placed before they walked out ,
"Thank you again you guys"
"Of course" Mickey replied as Bugs slipped out and the door shut "Now who wants ice cream before supper,"
"Michael Mouse!" Came Minnies scolding yet amused voice, the 2 year old grinning as her uncle scooped her up and made a beeline for the kitchen,
"Oh we won't spoil our Supper, just have a little bit." She shook her head as he placed the child in the booster seat,
As Minnie moved around the kitchen to begin making supper as Mickey pulled out the ice cream, and a singular bowl they could share, he didn't mind, as he scooped out a tiny bit of the treat handing the spoon to the kit who smiled
"Unca Mike, tank you!" He grabbed a napkin and tied a bib around her neck, before he sat down as he helped her take a scoop from the bowl, watching Dolly try to lick it like an ice cream cone, making a mess of her face
Pulling a disposable camera out as she was focused on the special treat he got a picture, before he helped the child wipe her muzzle she grunted trying to pull away to his amusement before delving back into it, he snuck a spoonful not noticing Minnie with her more professional camera got a photo of the pair's exchange,
She was grateful for Bugs and Daffy, for Dolly. A hand subconsciously finding itself on her abdomen, before turning to the sink, they had been trying over the last nearly decade since they'd married in 73 however with 1981 around the corner they found themselves unable, Dolly and Max helped ease the pain of the reality they faced, a future without children the one thing they wished for seemingly wouldn't happen.
Maybe they could look into adoption perhaps? It might sound selfish however she really wished for a child of their own, she was jolted out of her thoughts by Mickeys hand gently resting on her arm as he leaned over to place the dish now empty in the sink,
"Hey you alright?" He asked with tenderness and a knowing expression,
"Yeah, just thinking," She answered, as the mouse leaned over and placed a kiss to her forehead,
"It's alright," he whispered, before wrapping his arms around her hugging her from behind, before they heard the chair scoot out and Mickey turned quickly to help the child down,
She washed the bowl but smiled over her shoulder as she could see her wonderful husband wiping off the child's muzzle, hearing him ask
"Seriously kiddo, how in the world do you get ice cream on the top of your head?" As Dolly giggled and in her small voice answered
"Don know...magic?" Making her Uncle laugh again as he took a rag and wiped it off, before tossing it into the laundry and scooping her up,
"Sounds about right kid, magics playful like that," he smiled as he let some flow and she gasped, as it flitted around her and made all sorts of shapes of animals, before fading, the kit looking a little bit sad,"How about we go play with Pluto while Aunt Minnie cooks?"
Instantly, she perked up, clapping her hands,
"Pluto pluto!" Making him smile as he walked out,
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starseneyes · 4 months
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The Ache of Memory - For Andy
A few days ago, I looked at my Facebook memories and scrolled idly through the comments. My computer had died completely beyond repair, so in January of 2014, I bought my first computer.
Yes, I had computers before then, but I had never bought my own. I'd been blessed to receive handmedowns from folks around me, and once during University, my father even bought me a brand new one.
So, at nearly 30, I was excited to finally buy my own computer. I recorded a ridiculous video about it and posted it. And as I randomly swiped through the comments, not even knowing why I was doing it, I spotted one that made my breath catch.
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It was from Andy. Andy Beck. My middle school best friend who would be gone a month later.
I moved away at 16, leaving behind the few friends I had. Most of them fell away long before high school, and while Andy and I weren't as close as we once were, we still loved each other.
Middle School was the height of our friendship. We slipped away at lunch time to eat in this weird, hidden alcove. It took almost a year before we were caught by the same teacher twice.
Yes, we would feign ignorance every time. We just didn't want to have to eat inside! It was cramped and smelled of soured milk and fried okra (which is one of my least favorite things).
So, while everyone else filed dutifully into the lines to the cafeteria, we slipped off to our hideaway.
Once, we got caught in the rain during one of those lunches and got soaked. When we arrived to English class, Ms. Hardy simply sighed at the sight of us. We were grinning ear-to-ear as water dripped down our faces.
Andy and I wrote poetry together, shared in sleepovers, and I even spent a whole day with her in Raleigh while her father worked and sent us off with enough money for lunch and to do whatever while he attended meetings.
Every class project we shared—because we shared most of our classes—with a favorite being our road trip binder project onto which we attached a pair of my yellow socks for a loose Curious George tie-in. No, I don't remember why. Yes, it was Andy's idea.
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The other favorite was the Marie Curie presentation. One of us had to be a wax statue and the other presented. Of course, Andy resembled Curie more, and I was happy to present.
We rigged a light into our set-up and speech with a cue word I spoke as wax figure Andy moved her finger a fraction to activate the light. It was so much fun watching people try to decipher how we did it.
We both hated school spirit, but somehow convinced each other to do our eighth grade spirit week together, including "twin day". Why was this particularly hilarious? Andy and I looked nothing alike. So, we wore variations on the same outfit, and they couldn't exclude us from the photos because we technically followed the rules.
We were troublemakers, but only mild trouble. Nothing severe.
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We would pass notes to each other, and before the move (where a lot of keepsakes were lost), I still had a shoe box filled with notes from Andy the GREAT! That was how she signed her notes. And she was great.
And seeing that comment the other day crashed into me with a million memories. While we kept up with each other online, most of our chats were on MySpace, and I long ago lost access to mine when my email was hacked. So, little comments like these are some of the last living touches of our friendship.
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It's all the harder with Cheryl gone. Andy and Cheryl grew up in the same neighborhood. We had a lot of the same classes together. And I have so many pictures of the pair of them that I took with my little disposable, film camera.
Gosh, these photos are grainy. But I treasure them, all the same.
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This is what she wrote to me in our 8th grade yearbook. Now, we didn't actually have eighth grade yearbooks because there was some problem with the school. So, we all got together and made makeshift ones.
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Andy and Cheryl taking over the universe. They could've done it. They really could have.
Two Big Things that Hit Hard
I attended Andy's funeral in Wilmington, North Carolina with my husband, Matthew. My friend Cheryl offered to drive down with us, but I was secretly eight weeks pregnant with twins, so we really wanted to ride just the two (er... four) of us.
The service was lovely, and it was the first time I'd seen Andy's older sister, Kelsey, in forever. I hadn't seen most of the folks from back when since I was 15 and I was nearly 30.
I stood in line to greet Andy's father, to tell him how sorry I was for his loss. I thought of how to introduce myself, since I was only a part of Andy's life in-person from 1996-2000. It was 2014. It had been a long time.
Mr. Beck finished speaking with the person in front of me, and as they moved on, his eyes fell to me. Three things happened I never could have anticipated—his eyes widened as he smiled, he reached down to hug me, and he breathed my name with joy as he did. I can still hear it in my head.
You don't know the impact you have on a life. I knew what Andy meant to me. I don't know if I ever knew what I meant to her. But in that moment, I knew I'd left a mark, somehow, and it was comforting to know.
The other thing happened before the funeral—on the night Andy OD'd.
See, I had a policy back then that if someone was having a bad day, I gave them space. This was informed by my childhood. If you've read any of my posts, you know it wasn't the greatest.
So, giving space was the best way to get through when the adult in my life had a bad day. Engaging only led to you becoming the new lightning rod onto which bolts of hate were spewed.
That night, I saw Andy's post go up in real-time. I still remember part of it, "For every one step forward I take two steps back". I thought about messaging her, but decided to give her space. Let her work through it.
And by morning she was gone.
That changed everything for me in how I approached those hurting around me. It changed everything. Because, I realized I will never know if reaching out might have spared Andy her fate, but I will wonder the rest of my life.
So, the next time I saw someone hurting, I reached out. It was a friend I hadn't spoken to in ages, but I saw their post show up in real-time and messaged immediately. We chatted for over an hour.
She was so low and depressed. She was so lost. And I just stayed there online with her, messaging and chatting and being a virtual ear for her. I let her decide when the conversation was over, and as we said goodnight, I whispered into my quiet house, "For Andy."
The next morning came, and my friend messaged me. She was doing much better and wanted me to know how much it helped. I will never know if I could have helped Andy, but that night I did help someone else. I was there for them when no one else was, and it helped.
So, if you've ever wondered why I'm the first to respond to every heartache I see, to every loss or disappointment... it's because I want to help.
That night when Andy posted, I thought I was helping by giving her space. Now, I know better. I know to offer myself. And if someone says no, that's perfectly fine. But if they say yes, I know that's one more person I can help in this world.
Andy, I miss you ferociously. You were a force of nature, one of the most creative souls I've ever known, and the glue that held my Middle School experience together. There's so much I wouldn't have gotten through without you.
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But your legacy lives on, Andy. In your child. And in the impact you had on us all. I will never ever forget you.
And you. Yes, you, reading this. Don't ever underestimate the impact you have on another life just by being who you are.
You are made of stardust and dream stuff, and I am in awe of you. Get out there and shine, because somebody's life will be touched by your light, and it will be all the better for it.
Mine is forever brighter because I knew Andy.
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sonoftartessos · 2 years
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@cxncordia sent: Age meme : 11
SEND ME AN AGE AND MY MUSE WILL TELL YOU ONE THING THAT HAPPENED TO THEM WHEN THEY WERE THAT AGE THAT THEY WILL NEVER FORGET.
When León was little, his father told him a ghost story that kept him up all night. It became the story he would always repeat to his friends. Each time, he would make little changes to scare them more.
As scared as they were, they never believed it.
He was eleven when he decided to prove it to them. One night, León lied about going to a sleepover. He stuffed his backpack with everything he thought he needed to hunt this circus down.
He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he would find it and take loads of great pictures. He might even find an evil clown. That would be cool.
He got a bus to the nearby woods and cut through the fence with the wire cutters he stole from his father.
The woods were so dense that it felt like hours by the time he found a clearing. His clothes were in shreds from the brambles and his skin burned with nettle rash.
He wanted to go home. The bitter autumn chill hurt his skin, his feet ached and he was frightened. But he needed to prove to his friends that he was not a liar. He was close. He could feel it.
Fumbling with his torch, León wandered through the dark. The shadows moved in the breeze. The sound of cars from the nearby main road died down the further he got.
His nervous breaths misted up into the air in plumes. He just wanted to find the burned-out van with a clown painted on the side. He would take photos on his disposable camera. Then he would run all the way home.
Something in the distance suddenly crossed his pale torchlight and disappeared again. He couldn't even find his voice to scream. Casting his torch where it went, he tried to tell himself that ghosts couldn't hurt him. Or that it was an owl! That was what it must have been.
His legs felt like rubber as he continued deeper into the woods. Tears rolled down his face as he fought back panicked breaths.
It was almost an hour before he gave up. Terror, tiredness and discomfort made him turn around. But as he trekked back, he couldn't remember the route. Dragging his feet, he tripped on a bramble and tumbled into the nettles with a scream.
Bursting into tears, he scrambled to catch his torch as it rolled away. It was such a terrible idea. He was never going to go anywhere alone ever again.
He grabbed the torch and shone it around, panting desperately in terror. The owl was back, hiding in the distance with a flash of grey. But as León shone his torch on it, he realised it was a man in a grey hoody. He let out a shriek of terror and sprinted in the other direction.
He arrived at the fence into the main street by luck and scrambled through it, abandoning his bag there. He was surprised to find his mother parked up nearby, in tears.
She embraced him hard when he reached her. 'Don't lie to us ever again.' She lavished his face with kisses and checked his wounds. After, she called León's father and his friends, who were still in the woods searching for him.
As it turned out, they had gone to León's friend to drop off some of his things for the sleepover and found out he had lied. It didn't take anyone long to realise where he had really gone.
His father slapped him for his stupidity. There was no excuse for putting himself in so much danger.
Since then, León tells himself that the hoodied man was his father's friend. But nothing explains why none of them was wearing grey hoodies that night.
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Last Night Beca (4/4)
pairing: bechloe
rating: t
summary:
The walk to the door began, as did Chloe’s wondering if she made a mistake by thinking she was up to the task of walking Beca home, no matter how much she wanted to.
Chloe thought it almost would’ve been easier if the singer had been unconscious so she could’ve carried her. Instead, Beca insisted that she could do it herself, staggered across the floor like a newborn calf learning how to walk, and tripped over a table, flinging herself into the doorframe at the entrance.
[seriously, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. each comment I've seen on it has made my grinch heart grow 3 sizes. more things to come!! :) ]
Read chapter ( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) here!
Read on AO3!
Friday Night
Chloe was certain she had never been through anything as difficult as getting Beca from her stool to the entrance of the bar.
After telling Aubrey and Jesse that she was walking Beca home, earning a very not-subtle look from both of them that told her exactly what their assumptions were, she stood to help Beca off of her seat. That was difficult enough in itself, as the brunette felt like a ragdoll and almost collapsed in her arms. Beca began to walk to the door but only stumbled a few steps before turning around and insisting that she took a picture of Chloe and Aubrey together first, claiming that “it’s only fair since you took such great pictures of me!” The sentiment was sweet, but as she watched Beca sway as she tried to keep herself steady enough to take the picture, Chloe wished Beca was a little less sweet at the moment.
Then, the walk to the door began, as did Chloe’s wondering if she made a mistake by thinking she was up to the task of walking Beca home, no matter how much she wanted to.
Chloe thought it almost would’ve been easier if the singer had been unconscious so she could’ve carried her. Instead, Beca insisted that she could do it herself, staggered across the floor like a newborn calf learning how to walk, and tripped over a table, flinging herself into the doorframe at the entrance.
“Oh my god ,” Chloe said with a laugh once she caught up with Beca at the door and led her outside. “You are a walking disaster.”
“I am doing just fine, thank you very much. Just needed some wonderful fresh air.”
“Yeah, totes.”
Chloe watched as Beca made her way out to the middle of the sidewalk on unsteady legs, apparently unconcerned with the people walking around her. Beca paused a few feet away from the bar and tilted her head up, prompting Chloe to ask what she was doing and if she could do it somewhere not in the way of the people trying to get around her. When the girl didn’t answer and kept staring at the sky, Chloe shook her head with a smile and pulled the disposable camera from her purse, taking another picture. She highly doubted Beca would remember everything about tonight, so the pictures would be a good thing to look back on, as well as an opening to hopefully see her again.
Beca was initially startled from the flash and then broke into a giant grin, stumbling the few steps over to Chloe. “We have to take a picture together!”
Chloe let her arm be yanked until she and Beca were positioned in front of the red neon sign for the bar and stretched her other one not still held by Beca out to take the picture. As she took it, she realized that she felt Beca breathing against the side of her face and turned her head slowly, feeling her heart pound with how close the shorter girl’s face was to hers.
“You weren’t even looking at the camera,” she said, trying to ignore how breathless her voice sounded.
“I assure you, I was looking at something much better.”
Chloe’s heart was racing as her eyes stayed locked on dark blue ones, unable to look away. She watched as Beca’s eyes kept flitting to her lips and found herself doing the same. Beca began leaning forwards to close the small gap and moved her hand to rest it upon Chloe’s cheek when-
“Wait! Wait,” Chloe said, leaning away to try to gain some distance. Beca’s face first looked adorably confused but quickly turned panicked as she jolted backward with wide eyes.
“Holy shit, holy fuck , I am so sorry, I just- I thought…”
“Beca, it’s okay,” Chloe smiled as she reached out to pull Beca closer again, trying to break her out of her panic. “Trust me, I really want to kiss you. But you are still extremely drunk and I don’t think that would be very nice of me.”
Beca had her brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, presumably trying to register the words in her drunken haze before her face lit up. “If that’s the only issue then that’s fine.” She began to lean forwards again, moving right towards Chloe’s lips.
Chloe clapped her hand over Beca’s mouth when she got mere inches away again and dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Beca, I’m sorry, it’s going to have to wait,” she said through her laughter, having to physically hold the shorter girl’s face back with her hand. “You can’t even walk in a straight line. Once you can, we can discuss it.”
Once Beca took a few steps back, Chloe removed her hand from her face and observed the small pout that was uncovered. Just like in the bar, she couldn’t get over how adorable the girl was.
Chloe had been following Beca’s career for a couple of years now, ever since she was looking into one of her favorite songs and found out that the producer was very attractive. Once Beca had put out her first album, along came the talk show and radio interviews. There was something about Beca’s slightly awkward yet confident-in-herself demeanor that was the perfect mixture of being both hot and endearing.
Chloe was instantly hooked.
Now, looking at the girl standing before her who was steadily making the shift from Beca Mitchell: the celebrity to Beca: the stumbling and swaying twenty-something year old who was full-on pouting because she wouldn’t kiss her, Chloe was finding herself more than hooked.
“Come on cutie, let’s get you home,” Chloe said with a fond smile to the still-pouting face. She grabbed Beca’s hand and began walking, but not without noticing the blush that appeared on her cheeks.
- - - - -
Present
“Chloe, god , I am so fucking sorry.”
In plain and simple terms, Beca was fucking mortified . When she went out the other night, none of this was in her plans. She didn’t plan on getting shitfaced, she didn’t plan on meeting a pretty girl, and she definitely didn’t plan on making the pretty girl babysit her as she continuously tried to make moves on her.
The tripping over a table wasn’t in her plans, either, although the bruises she has been discovering made a lot more sense now.
“Really, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Chloe said with a warm smile. “I literally told you I wanted to kiss you, just not at the moment, mainly for your benefit.”
Trying to compose the butterflies that began flying around in her stomach at yet another mention by Chloe about wanting to kiss her, Beca took a sip of her now second drink. “Well, I’m still sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” Chloe smiled. “If you really do feel bad about trying to kiss me, though, you probably should hold off on saying sorry for now. You tried probably another ten times just on the way to the park.”
“I’m choosing to ignore that. How did we get to the park? I thought you were taking me home?” Beca asked as she tried desperately to fight the off waves of embarrassment rushing through her.
“You got distracted by the lights. It’s kinda like you were a moth, you targeted right in on them. It was very cute.”
“Oh my god, please don’t compare me to a bug.”
- - - - -
Friday Night
“Dude! Look at those lights!” Beca said, pointing at the lights strung in the trees at the small park they just approached. Chloe let herself be yanked along the gravel path, following Beca to a wooden bench where she watched on in amusement as the shorter girl flung herself onto it.
It had been about a fifteen-minute walk to where they were now, one that could’ve been shorter if her companion wasn’t hammered. In that time, Chloe had to pull Beca out of the way of three trash cans before she walked into them, tie her shoe because the brunette insisted that she couldn’t figure it out on her own, and stop her from kissing her about ten times.
All things considered, it was shaping up to be the best night Chloe has had in a while.
“Don’t go passing out on me now,” she said with a laugh. “I know I said I would carry you home if I have to, but you haven’t told me your address.”
“I’m not gonna pass out, promise. Now bring your pretty face over here and come sit with me.”
Chloe walked over to the bench and sat down next to Beca, not bothering to ask her to move over from where she was seated in the center of the bench. After hesitating for a brief moment, she reached over and clasped Beca’s hand in hers as she had on their walk, feeling comfort in the warm softness of her fingers intertwining with hers, only interrupted by a couple of cold metal rings.
“I know it’s probably super annoying,” Beca started, a slight slur still in her speech, “but thank you for coming with me. I have really liked it.”
“Of course. I’ve really liked it, too.” Chloe said with a smile. As she said it, Beca shifted, wrapping her arms around Chloe’s neck and swinging her legs across her lap. Chloe felt her breath hitch as Beca leaned impossibly closer and buried her head in her neck amongst her red curls. “Hey, Becs? Whatcha doing?”
A soft kiss was pressed to her neck and she heard a mumble come out, muffled against her skin.
“You’re really pretty.” Another kiss. “And nice.” Another. “And your skin is really soft.”
Chloe screwed her eyes shut at the sensation and tried to muster any of her self-control that was left to hopefully stop herself from tackling the other girl and kissing her senseless.
“I’m going to take another picture, okay?” she said, her voice coming out much shakier than she had been hoping.
“Mmkay.”
Chloe reached for her purse on the ground, a much more difficult task than it had to be with Beca still wrapped around her, and dug the camera out of it. She stretched out her arm and before she clicked the button, she twisted her head to the side and placed a small kiss on the top of Beca’s forehead. She let her lips linger there as the flash went off and interrupted the soft glow from the lights in the trees behind them.
After placing her camera and purse on the ground again and leaning up, Chloe was greeted by Beca staring right at her with a giant grin on her face.
“What’s that face for?” Chloe asked as she began to mirror the smile.
“You kissed me!”
Beca looked positively elated and Chloe couldn’t hold in her laughter. “You just kissed me three times, I figured I could return the favor.”
“If that’s the case…” Beca began with a smirk, slowly moving her hand over and laying it on the top of Chloe’s leg. “You owe me two more.” Her fingers were moving absentmindedly across the bare skin of Chloe’s thigh and her eyes were watching her with an intensity that hadn’t been there moments ago.
Chloe struggled to contain the emotions she was currently feeling. Just as she had crossed the line from being Beca Mitchell to just being Beca, Beca was steadily crossing the line from being adorable to being really unfairly hot with each passing second.
Chloe wasn’t sure if she’d survive it.
Deciding to go with the safest option that the request suggested, she gently grabbed Beca’s face and turned it to look forwards again before slowly leaning in. When her lips connected with Beca’s cheek, she heard a shaky inhale and couldn’t help the smirk that ended up pressed to the skin.
When she pulled back, she saw that her lipstick for the night was prominently displayed in a perfect mark on Beca’s face.
“This lipstick is really putting in some work tonight. Sorry about that,” Chloe said as she slowly traced around the print with her thumb.
All Beca had to say on the matter was a quiet asking of “One more?”
While the first two kisses had been innocent, as she took in the flush on Beca’s cheeks paired with the memory of her lips against her neck, Chloe truly couldn’t help herself. In a split-second decision, she stood up from the bench to position herself in front of Beca, giggling at the small whine that came out of the singer at her movement.
“Patience is a virtue, Beca.”
Chloe brushed Beca’s hair off of her shoulder and held it at the back of her head, tilting her slightly with her grasp. Leaning down slowly, she pressed her lips to the side of Beca’s neck and reveled in the whimper she heard. Before backing away she gave the skin a slight nip and reflexively tightened her hand in the soft locks of hair at the small moan that bubbled out of Beca’s throat.
“How’s that?” she asked as she straightened up to put some space in between them before she really lost control.
It seemed that Beca had been rendered speechless at that, as she just sat on the bench staring at her with a furious blush on her face. Shaking her head in disbelief at the turn her night took, Chloe grabbed her camera once more and took a picture, needing proof that this memory that would stick with her forever had actually happened.
- - - - -
Present
“Were you trying to kill me?”
“You are so dramatic, I was not.”
“I think you were.”
God , how Beca wished she hadn’t drank so much that night. As Chloe was telling her about what happened once they were at the park, all she could think of was what else could’ve happened had she not still been falling all over herself.
But, then again, had she been sober, she probably wouldn’t have been so bold.
It seemed like Chloe would’ve been, though. The thought made her shiver involuntarily.
“You were the one who kissed me first! If I had been trying to kill you, it would’ve only been in retaliation.”
Beca faked offense at that, scoffing at the insinuation that the escalation had been her fault (even though it definitely was. Last Night Beca was known for being a bit of a ‘horny fuck’, as Stacie often put it).
“Maybe if you weren’t so hot, I wouldn’t have,” Beca said, trying to keep her voice accusatory.
She only realized what she said when she saw Chloe looking at her with an incredibly pleased expression on her face, and immediately felt her face heat up what felt like a thousand degrees.
“We’re going to come back to that later,” Chloe said with a smirk. “Do you mind if we take the rest of this retelling on the road? It’s getting a little late and I have work in the morning.”
Beca nodded her agreement as Chloe went to the bar to pay the tab and tried not to let any surprise show at the unspoken idea that Chloe would be walking her home again. She gathered her things, including Chloe’s dress, and met her over at the bar as she was signing her receipt.
“Good seeing you sober, Beca,” Jesse said in a teasing tone once she stood beside Chloe at the bar. “Will I be seeing more of you?”
It was a simple enough question; Jesse probably meant for it to be simple. An easy question of “Will you be coming back to the bar where I work?”, but as Beca looked at Chloe, meeting her light blue eyes with her own, she heard a question coming from Chloe despite the redhead not opening her mouth.
Will she be seeing Jesse more because he’s Chloe’s friend and she’ll be seeing Chloe more?
With her eyes still locked onto Chloe’s, Beca gave both a simple and complex answer.
“Yeah. I really hope so.”
- - - - -
Beca was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry! She came over all starstruck and all you wanted to do was finish serenading me with some Avril,” Chloe said around her laughs that were honestly coming out more as wheezes. “I panicked!”
“That doesn’t mean tell one of my fans that I accidentally took drugs!”
“You kept trying to grab my ass! You seemed much worse than only drunk, it wouldn’t have explained everything. Don’t worry, I cleared it up afterward.”
The pair had been walking for around ten minutes now, neither of them being in any real rush to leave the other. While Beca was enjoying listening to Chloe’s dramatic retellings of Friday night, half of her brain was focused on the way that not even a minute into walking Chloe had grabbed her hand.
She wasn’t normally one for physical contact from near-strangers, but this?
This was nice.
“You were very sweet with her, though. It was really cute,” Chloe said in a softer tone, her laughing finally calming down and the wild grin turning into a gentle smile.
“Well, yeah,” Beca smiled back. “I get to live my dream, have to be at least a little appreciative of the people who helped me get there.”
Chloe kept glancing at her as they walked in silence for a few minutes, expression unreadable, until she finally broke the silence. “Then the live stream happened, which you saw. I don’t think I’m going to take up your offer for a restraining order, though.”
“You should. If that’s what I was like the whole night, you really should.”
The rest of the walk home was taken up by Chloe saying how while the walk from the park wasn’t as bad as the walk from the bar, it was still pretty awful- or at least would seem so to Beca.
She had tried to kiss Chloe again. Repeatedly. And when that didn’t work, she took up begging. Again.
For some reason, after all of that, Chloe had still been nice enough to walk Beca up to her apartment (“I was worried you were going to die!”) and somehow got convinced to play with her hair for an embarrassing half-hour (“You told me it was imperative to ward off your hangover”).
Finally, the two made it to the entrance of Beca’s building.
“The last thing you did Friday night was make me change into your clothes. You said it was for comfort but immediately after I did, you said that I’d have to see you again to give them back, so I don’t really believe that first part.”
“Like half of the other things you’ve told me, I’m going to ignore that,” Beca said, once again cringing at how awkwardly forward she had been.
“Your loss,” Chloe said with a grin. “By the way, do you have those pictures from the other night with you? I’m sure they came out super cute.”
Reaching into her pocket, Beca grabbed the forgotten pictures and handed them over to Chloe with a smile. Chloe was right, after all. They did come out super cute.
Beca kinda wanted to make fifty copies of all of them and plaster them over everything in her apartment.
She watched as Chloe went through them and at the same time, watched as Chloe’s smile grew wider and wider. After making it to the last picture, Chloe handed them back over with a smile still on her face.
“You can keep them for now. Maybe I’ll have you make copies for me.”
Beca was at a loss for words as she stared at Chloe’s smiling face, the photos safely in her pocket again. She knew the night was coming to a close and much like earlier in the day, she was faced with the question of what to say to someone who has given her the best night of her life.
Although now, it was two nights.
Luckily, Chloe decided to take pity on her.
“You know, Beca, there’s something I noticed on our walk home.”
Beca felt her brows furrow in confusion, trying to remember if she did anything else embarrassing or that would warrant teasing. “What is it?”
Beca watched as Chloe took a step towards her, closing the already-small gap that had been between them. Her heart began to pound at Chloe’s proximity and all she could do was stare into the ocean blue eyes as Chloe lifted her hands, one resting on Beca’s waist and the other coming up to cup her face.
“You were walking in a pretty straight line.”
“Was I?”
The last thing she saw before feeling Chloe’s lips against hers was that sickeningly-sweet smile she had been dreaming about.
The rest of the world disappeared around her. All Beca could focus on was the softness of Chloe’s lips and the feeling of her hand against her face. She moved her own hands upwards, immediately tangling one in red hair and the other in Chloe’s (her) sweatshirt and trying to pull her impossibly closer.
After what felt like seconds and eternities at the same time, Beca pulled away slightly, just enough so she could mumble out the only coherent thought in her mind (besides dear god, this is amazing ).
“Go on a date with me?”
Chloe’s smile was enough of an answer, but the kiss that followed cemented the deal.
- - - - -
realbecamitchell: last night beca’s got GAME. thanks drunky
| current beca can’t stop smiling
| :D
chlobeale: See you Friday <3 xx
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