#whenever it does rain i like pretending that nothing is wrong and i was overexaggerating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nrth-wind-a · 3 years

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SO. I... don’t have an excuse; I was exploring the rough patch of the Fashion AU at the time of doing this meme and uh. The ending of this spawned. I consider everything up until the kiss ‘canon’ for the AU. The kiss is... purely because this meme was still on the brain lol

Accompanying Playlist --

"...congratu-fucking-lations." Bellroc's voice was low, as they glared at the sketch they'd been working on.

Some of the lines had nearly pushed through the paper.

Skrael glanced over to them, the smile previously on his face sliding off. He knew this was going to happen. He knew it.

So why did it still hit so hard?

"...excuse me?" He fought to keep his voice steady.

Bellroc's grip on their pencil tightened when Nari slipped from the room.

Skrael followed their eyes, getting distracted for just a moment, stomach sinking when he noticed Nari's absence. She'd been doing that lately, whenever they seemed like they were about to have it out once more.

Skrael turned back to face Bellroc-- there was little he could do to stop Nari, and he’d never subject her to even more of this than she’d already had to handle-- raising his chin in defiance. "Why aren't you happy for me? I just broke one of the best deals any one of us has ever gotten. I mean, maybe I’m wrong, but this is our dream, isn't it? To get into the big leagues? This is our chance to do that, Bells."

Bellroc's eyes were a viper's. "Okay.” They set their pencil down, but did not stand up. “First of all, Starr Occult is barely above Hot Topic, and you know it. That’s hardly big leagues-- it’s not even a high-end department store. So what-the-fuck-ever; big fucking deal, Skrael. They growled. “And secondly, it’s not even a deal for all three of us. I thought we were supposed to do this together.”

Skrael scoffed. “And we will. But we have to have some kind of in, first, and if this has to be it, then, I don’t see why not. Besides, they didn’t say I couldn’t get help from you two.”

“But they didn’t say you could, either, did they?” Bellroc stared into his eyes, lip curling. “In fact, I wouldn’t be shocked to hear that you didn’t even think to ask, did you?”

Skrael went silent.

It wasn’t that he’d intended not to ask… it had just happened so quickly…

“I-” Skrael huffed. “I didn’t need to. They know we’re a package deal; we’ve never hid that.”

“And yet, I am quite certain mine and Nari’s names are not on the contract, Skrael.”

“That… that doesn’t have to mean--”

“Yes it does, Skrael! We can help you all day, but Nari and I don’t get to see a single ounce of credit for our work if we do! Not to mention the royalties, and god, I don’t even care about that, but you know we would get nothing!” They noticed him open his mouth, but held up their hand to stop him. “Don’t you dare. I’m sure you’d share it with the rest of us, because every dime any of us makes goes to keeping this car crash going-- I am plenty aware. It isn’t about the money, Skrael-- hell, it isn’t even about the deal. I need you to listen to me; the problem is that you did this without us.” They couldn’t quite clear all of the pain in their voice, and they wanted to scream, yell, be loud, because he wasn’t supposed to know they were hurt; he was supposed to know they were angry.

But they could barely even feel a hint of the flame. Instead, they felt the way the Titanic must have.

“You did it without us, even though a decision this big should be something we all talk about first. What ever happened to talking, Skrael?”

Skrael had clenched his jaw, his fists, against the avalanche on his tongue. “I just wanted to advance our careers, Bells… it’s one deal. It’s not even that big. Nine pieces, total. Three pants, three skirts, three shirts. Straightforward. It should have been easy.”

Bellroc gave a haughty laugh, “Easy. As if anything is easy these days. Things haven’t been easy for us in weeks, and you know it.” They paused there, to see if he’d say something. They almost wanted him to. They wanted him to fuel their rage; they wanted him to retort, and they wanted to rebut it, and they wanted so badly for him to strike that match, grate against them, push back, cry out.

But Skrael didn’t say a word.

They almost got what they wanted, though, as his cold stare locked onto their heated one, and ah, it wasn’t nearly enough, and that, too, irritated them-- how could he just stand there like that? While they were twisting, curling, crackling-- so they took the opportunity he presented them anyway, even if it wasn’t the one they’d silently begged him for, and continued.

“Did you really think that this was okay, Skrael?” They glared.

Skrael’s shoulders went visibly tenser, and-- a vicious delight ran through them, seeing that-- he finally broke. “I’m sorry; did I think giving us a leg up in our careers-- our dreams, Bellroc-- was okay? How fucking dare you. Of course I thought giving us an in to the professional world was acceptable! Since when did I have to clear everything with you? I didn’t know we were a hivemind, Bellroc; I didn’t know I had to go and get a permission slip to do my job.”

Bellroc bristled, and finally stood up. One, two, three long strides, and then they were crowding Skrael’s personal space, “Your job is not to do ours for us-”

“-then maybe you should make more contacts in the industry! At least I’ve gotten a deal at all!” Skrael spat, resisting the urge to step backward.

“Oh, yes, I see; because it’s my fault a second-rate retailer with shitty fabric and bad stitching hasn’t picked me out for mass consumption to idiot teenagers who don’t know the difference between cotton and polyester. Wow, I feel so bad, Skrael; really! I’m just aching for Wal-Mart to set their sights on me! You piece of shit. You got lucky that they’re still looking for clothes that thirteen year olds wear to pretend they’re being rebellious. As if a paper-thin graphic tee makes you Alexander fucking McQueen, Skrael! This deal is stupid, and you know it. What happened to not selling out? To a mass retailer, Skrael? A chain?”

Skrael couldn’t resist a humorless, shocked laugh, “Are you kidding me? You’re really going to act like you’re gonna suddenly get asked to collab with Westwood on your first fucking try? We have to start somewhere, Bellroc!”

“I know that, Skrael! I just thought that maybe-” they cut themself off, looking to the side, shutting their eyes. They took a steadying breath… then leveled him with a mercilessly disappointed glare. “Well. You know what I thought.”

The air stilled for half a second.

And then Skrael rolled his eyes.

“I never said we aren’t going to do this together, Bellroc. You are wildly overexaggerating.”

Ah… there was the strike.

They accepted it in stride, lighting up. “Oh…” They growled. “Fuck you, Skrael. If that’s how you want to do this, fine. I’m just delighted to oblige! Fuck you and your stupid fucking deal-- I hope you have so much fun with your brand new, shiny contract, and all the assholes who come with it. And you know what? Don’t even bother asking for my help. This is your deal, remember? So take it, cherish it, and then shove it up your ass.” They slung their words at him like blows, before whirling to collect their coat and their backpack, stopping just before the door to hiss, “Don’t fucking show your face here tomorrow.”

The door was on its way to being slammed, but Skrael managed to catch it, as he followed on Bellroc’s heels, out into the rain. “You cannot tell me not to come in-- you don’t have that right! You don’t have the authority.”

Bellroc spun on their heels to face him. “Like hell I do! I’m not telling you that as a business partner, Skrael; I’m telling you that as a--” don’t say friend, “...a co-worker. If you show your goddamn face tomorrow, Skrael, I will make you regret it.”

Skrael looked unbothered, “What are you gonna do, get in a fistfight with me? Duel me at sundown? Please. Avoid the empty threats, Bellroc; they’re not a good look on you.”

Bellroc made a hateful noise. “Do you want me to? Because if you keep fucking pushing me, I just might.” With how wired they felt, they almost, almost, wanted to… but Skrael was-- unfortunately-- right. Their words were empty.

Still… when Skrael had the audacity to start laughing, it was much easier to see the appeal.

“You would never.” He managed between laughs, and god, they just wanted him to shut up; between his laughter, the rain, the blood rushing in their ears, the bonfire in their chest--

Something had to give.

As if they were watching from outside of their own body, they reached up, clapped their hands onto the sides of Skrael’s face, and he looked so stupidly beautiful in the rain, in the street lights, and they weren’t even sure what they were doing, but they were leaning in, suddenly, and it felt like a fever, it felt fake, it felt--

It wasn’t a nice kiss.

They were too angry for that.

Instead, it was vicious, and too hard, and mean, and Skrael wasn’t moving, except-- was that bite from them or him? They couldn’t even tell. So they stepped closer, making him crane his neck, and he should have pulled away then, but he didn’t, so they didn’t, and neither of them understood what was happening, and--

The kiss wasn’t supposed to be good.

It wasn’t supposed to light yet more of their insides ablaze.

But it did.

And they hated it.

And they loved it.

Eventually, they pulled back, slow, full of hesitation and something that wasn’t regret, but felt like it.

Bellroc cut Skrael off before he could ask.

“Shut. Up.” They said, tone dangerous, before they let him go and stormed to their car.

The apartment was a graveyard that night.

#oh boy #our first look at some of the issues they were having #this is not THE fight though #but it is one of many they'd have been having back then #fashionista how do you look? - rival designers au

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