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alovesreading · 1 year

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Constant Repeat | Part 3

Summary: Having worked at Focus Creeps for a year, Ella knows that as a production assistant and part of the crew, there’s one important rule: don’t interact with the talent unless it’s needed. But once she meets Arctic Monkeys, and the recording of the music videos for their upcoming fourth studio album starts, the band seem to become her exception. Not only because they treat her more like a friend than just someone else they’re working with but when Alex continuously makes her blush with his flirting, so enthralled by her that he forgets he’s got a girlfriend, Ella finds herself growing closer to him. As videos are filmed, wrapped and edited, the friendship lines become blurry. Situations unfold, secrets are told and others are kept under lock and key, but how long can Alex and Ella endure being stuck in each other’s minds on constant repeat.

Word Count: 15.3k

Story Warnings: Throughout this series there will be suggestive talk, jealousy, cheating, alcohol and drug use, angst, smut.

A/N: Jumping on my spot because this chapter just fully starts it all and I cannot wait to hear what you think about it!!! I don't even know what to say anymore, I'm just to eager for you all to read this one lol. Enjoy!!! xx

Masterlist

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It had been two months since their goodbye. June had been filled with work, mostly for commercials with a fourth of July theme. There were so many brands they’d worked with, that Ella had lost count of how many meetings she had attended in the last three weeks of the month.

True to his word, a week after their last talk, she got an email from their management asking for her name and address to be added to the PR list. Suck it and see had been out for a week already and she had bought it digitally, but her stomach fluttered as she typed in her information.

She just couldn’t wait for when the next video was going to be recorded.

July seemed to go the slowest it could’ve ever gone. And by the time August came, she still had no news about the band’s music video. The end of the first week of August was approaching, she was half tempted to go up to either Ben or Aaron and ask about it, but she was afraid of how that would make her look like.

Little did Ella know, she didn’t have to wait any longer, since the following Monday she got a list that read Arctic Monkeys - Black Treacle, Evil Twin, Suck it and See with dates on the top of the page that said August 14th - 16th 2011.

She hid her slight freakout very deep inside herself and left it for when she finished getting the details on the list ready. Four days later, when she handed the list back to her bosses, she allowed herself to get showered in nerves.

Ella knew by then that they were going to see them at a festival they were playing at in San Francisco, and she was beyond excited for it but her stomach was turning just from thinking she would be seeing Alex again after two months. Sixty days since they last spoke and she realized far too late she had no way to even contact him during the wait for the next music video.

Well, not that she would’ve been brave enough to ask for his phone number and maybe he would’ve laughed at her if she had asked for his email, but she was wondering what it would’ve been like if somehow they could have a way to keep chatting despite the distance.

And as if someone had been stealing the sand from the hourglass, before she even had time to properly prepare herself for the encounter, it was August 14th and the production crew was parking their bus at the festival grounds. It was around three in the afternoon, they had made a stop for lunch that made them arrive an hour later than anticipated but they weren’t late enough to have missed the band’s set.

After a while of walking and trying to make their ways through the artists backstage, the group of fifteen people sporting ‘Outside Lands’ wristbands managed to make it to the spot the brits were standing at.

And Ella almost didn’t recognize him.

Alex had a fresh new haircut, a quiff that just screamed greaser, and she fully had to force her jaw back up after seeing him. He had his leather jacket on, despite it not being cold, gold framed dark sunglasses that fit him perfectly, jeans and a black shirt on. A cigarette behind his ear that had an effect on her she couldn’t quite describe, but she was sure her legs went a little weak when she saw it there.

Holy fuck.

It was around a drinks tent that they were standing by, all of them with plastic cups in their hands and laughing around. She smiled as they got closer, missing being around their banter.

Nick was the first to notice them approaching, turning around with a giant smile and waving at them. The rest of them turned to where the bassist was looking at and when they saw the crew they matched Nick’s grin and gesture.

The directors were the first to approach them and shake hands. Ella followed closely behind, way too excited to greet them again to hide anymore. She hugged them tight, saying a small but high pitched “Hi” to each of them, Matt swaying her from side to side while embracing her.

Alex grinned brightly at her, feeling warmth from her presence. She didn’t waste any time in pulling him in for a hug, her hold so tight on him that he started feeling dizzy from the way it was making him feel inside.

“Hi Ellie.” His arms were around her waist, giving her a squeeze before she let go.

She was grinning from ear to ear, “Hi Al.” Ella knew her greeting had been effusive but she couldn’t care less what any of the crew members had to say, not when Alex was looking at her like that.

They were both slowly letting go off each other when Aaron spoke up, “Thank you so much for having us at the show today.”

Ella took a step back, standing beside Ben. She made it seem like she was adjusting the camera strap on her shoulder, but she was hiding her blushed cheeks behind her hair.

Matt waved it off like it was no big deal, “It’s great having you all here. Hope you didn’t get lost trying to make it here.”

Ben chuckled, “It was a whole quest but we made it.”

Matt turned around then, getting some cups and pouring what seemed to be tequila in four of them and turned around with one on each hand, “Well, you’re all about three shots behind so better catch up.”

Aaron grabbed one of the shots Matt was offering, “Well, let’s get to it then!” The director turned to all the crew, nodding with his head towards the drink table so they could all get tequila shots.

Matt was quick to pour everyone their shots and when they all had them in hand they took them at the same time, he hadn’t been kidding about catching them up because he walked down the line of people filling their cups again so they could go back for a second one.

Alex took the opportunity to check Ella out more intently. She looked amazing under the sun, her tan long legs were out, she was wearing a pair of jean shorts held up by a black double buckle belt, a black bodysuit that showed every curve on her body perfectly and on her feet were a pair of black gator skin cowboy boots with silver detailing. She looked very western, and he loved it. From his spot he could see some tattoos littering her body like the red ink writing she had on her left thigh that was making him have thoughts he couldn’t say out loud.

She wiped the drops of tequila that were falling from her chin to her neck, “Fuck.” she mumbled, “Do we really gotta do a third one?” She was already feeling the warmth from the alcohol inside her buzzing all the way to the tips of her fingers.

Matt smirked, “Yes Ellie!” He poured her a third shot, filling her cup a bit more than the last time.

She narrowed her eyes at him and Alex chuckled at her expression. Matt proceeded to pour more tequila around and when the last person was served, he shouted, “Cheers everyone!”

The burn wasn’t as bad for her anymore, but she felt like if she didn't have a chaser any time soon, she would be throwing her lunch up. Alex saw her struggling after she gulped it down, turning to the table and handing her a lime wedge.

“Ugh, thanks.” She said in a pained voice, sticking the fruit in her mouth quickly after.

The sourness relaxed her and once she felt like it was enough, Ella took it off her mouth and threw it and the cup to the trash. “Matthew, I hate you.”

Everyone laughed, some of her coworkers had reached out for lime as well and she didn’t feel as bad anymore. She was now feeling more buzzed by the second. Oh, I’m already regretting this, she said in her head.

Alex then turned to their crew and said, “We’re going on in about an hour or so, you all can go around the festival if you’d like. Those passes can take you about anywhere.” He pointed to a guy’s AAA wristband, hoping they would all take their ways and he could have some time to hang out with Ella.

With that, many of them turned to pour some drinks and make their way to the closest stage, the directors saying they were gonna check whoever was performing as well. About five minutes went by when they were all left alone with the PA by the drinks tent.

Ella smiled at them, grabbing the strap from her shoulder and taking her film camera in her hands, she turned it on before saying, “Let me take a picture of you all!” They all nodded and started taking position for the shot.

Alex ran his hand through his hair, as he smiled towards the camera. Matt and Nick were raising their drinks in the air and Jamie stood beside them with a cigarette between his lips. She captured her view, smiling at them as she lowered the device. “I’m going to be taking pictures all day so you better be good muses and pose for me.”

Alex and Matt laughed at the way she was starting to slur her words, getting very obviously tipsy already. The singer decided to tease her, “You know… you’re only missing your cowboy hat.”

She snorted, “I always have it with me.” and she lifted her left arm, showing off her little cowboy hat tattoo on the inside of her bicep.

He giggled in response, “Brilliant.” and he took a sip of his drink, “How many tattoos do you have?” He ended up asking, curious to know what she would decide to print on her skin permanently.

She took some time to think and count, touching her rib by the end and lifting a total of six fingers, “About six at the moment:” she showed her cowboy hat again, “this one’s for Tennessee,” she then turned to her side showing him her right arm, “Lover here,” she pointed to her right shoulder where the word could be read, she then proceeded to show her tricep on the same arm “The angel wings for LA,” she turned back to her front, and lifted her shorts a bit over her left thigh, “Divine feminine,” was the one on red ink Alex had first noticed, she then put her left arm up to show the outside of her forearm where three little butterflies adorned her skin “my butterflies,” and she finished touching her left ribs over her bodysuit “And Selcouth here.”

Jamie frowned as he let go of the smoke he was holding in his lungs, “Sorry, Sel– what?”

Her face softly blushed and her lips formed a shy smile, “Selcouth, uhm, it means unfamiliar or strange yet marvelous.”

Jamie nodded while Nick tilted his cup towards her, “That’s nice.”

“Thank you Nick.” She placed her hand over her chest, an exaggerated expression of her gratitude for the little compliment. “Anyway, how have you been? How’s the tour going?”

Alex sighed, moving next to her and throwing his arm around her shoulders, “Well, other than the constant moving and therefore constant jetlag, it’s been great.”

Matt, who had been doing something on the table behind them, turned around then with a smirk on his face, “But nothing some margaritas cannot cure, right lads?” He had two glasses on his hands, raising them up as he walked towards Ella. “Here you go m’lady,” and he waited until she hesitantly grabbed the glass from him to move on.

“Oh no Matt, I don’t think–” She tried saying quickly, holding the glass as far away from her as possible for him to take back but was cut off by the man before she could finish her sentence.

The drummer handed the other one to Alex and made his way back to the table to hand Jamie and Nick theirs. Holding his own drink, he turned around to tut at her, “We’re not thinking right now.” He took a sip and let out an exaggerated sigh of pleasure, “We’re having fun and getting pissed!”

She turned to her left where Alex was standing, still holding onto her. “I–” She started again but Alex looked at her expectantly, softly encouraging her to take a sip after he had taken one of his.

“It’s really good Ellie, try it.” Alex assured her, taking a second sip.

She rolled her eyes, “Okay fine, but you better not complain if you need to end up taking care of drunk Ella today.” pointing at all of them, she took a swig of the beverage.

They all cheered, throwing their arms up in the air. Alex’s arm left her shoulders for a moment and she just laughed at their enthusiasm. When his hold came back around her she approved of Matt’s creation, “That’s really good Helders, you’re gonna have to teach me how to make it.”

“Whenever you want, Ella.” Matt replied, winking at her.

She let out a short laugh that died when Alex held her a tiny bit tighter to his side. The alcohol in her system was making her feel brave, so she let her head rest on his shoulder. She felt him tense for a quick second and she was about to curse herself mentally, when she felt him rest his head on top of hers, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb, over her lover tattoo.

She bit her lip to stop a massive smile from appearing on her face, not wanting to be too obvious in front of the rest of the band who were too preoccupied chatting amongst themselves to notice.

Ella let her eyes close for a second, getting lost in the feeling of his fingers on her skin and that’s when Matt glanced at them, making eye contact with Alex who hid his smile behind his glass. The drummer didn’t say anything, he just nodded and smiled at his friend, happy to see him smiling after weeks of sadness.

A few weeks ago, the singer had broken up with his girlfriend. It was a mutual accord, both of them too busy to even see each other as often as they could manage which made them come to take the decision. Decision that very obviously hurt them both. They had been together for over four years and he had been thinking of proposing one day, but shit happens and all he could do was move forward.

Tour had been distracting him, and he had been writing a lot to cope but there was something about the way he had felt when he saw the American girl again, and now he didn’t want to let go of the feeling—therefore not letting go of her.

Ella lifted her head up, making him do the same. Alex looked down at her and she smiled at him before leaning into his ear and whispering, “I really like this new look.” she pulled back a bit and checked him out very clearly, making him blush.

He smirked with pink cheeks, “You do?”

She nodded eagerly, “Very much.” The green on her eyes, dusted with brown flakes that looked like gold under the sun, was hypnotizing him behind his sunglasses.

He let his arm fall from her shoulders to her waist, leaning into her ear and whispering, “Thanks Ella.” in a tone that almost made her shiver.

The next fifty minutes they spent all together, drinking more margaritas—which Matt had taught her now how to make—, taking pictures and just talking about whatever came to their minds.

As the time for them to be on stage got closer, the people from her crew came back, equally or more tipsy than she was. Alex had counted her current glass to be her third and when she finished it, he grabbed it from her and threw it away, leaving her side to get her a cup of water.

When he came back he grabbed her arm softly to catch her attention, “I need you to start drinking some water now, Ellie.” his voice mellow and coated with wariness over her state.

She rolled her eyes and laughed at his worried features, “Alex it’s fine, I’m not drunk yet.”

He nodded, grabbing her hand to have her fingers wrap around the cup, “Exactly, yet. We’re gonna keep drinking after our set, I just don’t want you to be sick while we’re on.”

Ella thought he looked so cute with his furrowed brows, taking care of her, “Hmm, you’re cute,” she said softly, giving him a toothy grin. “Okay, I’ll have some water.” she finally took the cup and brought it to her lips, relief washing over him.

He was blushing, really liking how she was being with him—all soft yet forward. “Great.” he replied in a mumble, holding her close to him once again like they had been all afternoon.

Many had seen them, but no one said a word. Not to him, because he was genuinely smiling after Alexa. Not to her, because no one could question her and be nosy about it in front of the band.

Her cup of water was halfway done when someone from his sound crew made his way over to their group. “Let’s go lads, we need you over by the stage. You’re on in ten.”

Alex nodded, downing the last of his drink. His mates did the same as he turned to her, “You’re gonna keep having water yeah?” his eyebrows raised as he expected her to comply.

An amused sigh was what he got, “Yes, okay, I’ll stick to water now.” She rolled her eyes as he nodded, pleased with her answer.

“Alright, see you up there.” He said before kissing her temple and making his way to the side of the stage, leaving her a statue under San Francisco’s burning sun.

She was frozen and flushed, her temple felt hot like she had been branded. Branded with the shape of his lips and she was sure she had been. That little kiss would be pathetically engraved in her mind forever now.

Matt made her come out of her trance, asking her, “Would you like another one before we go?”

She knew she should’ve kept her promise of sticking to water, but she truly felt like she was sobering back up to a barely tipsy state so she nodded, “Please and thank you, Matt.” She downed the last of the water she had and threw away her cup before going beside the drummer.

When she stood beside him he was quick to ask her, “Would you like another one so you have a refill for the show and don’t have to come back here to make yourself one?”

She giggled, “You wanna see me black out, don’t you?”

Matt laughed, shaking his head, “That would be hilarious to witness but no, I’m genuinely asking.”

“Oh Matt, you’re so kind, look at you!” She nudged his shoulder with her left hand, sarcasm so obvious in her tone. He just laughed as he poured some tequila in her glass.

A minute later her and Matt were making their ways to the side of the stage. Alex was lighting the end of a cigarette, Nick already smoking his and Jamie was telling them something. Ella thought it was the perfect opportunity to get another picture of them, so she set her glasses down on a table a few steps away from her and grabbed her film camera with her right hand.

Her feet took her to where the band was standing, and when she got close enough, she rested her hand on top of Jamie’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt but, can I take a picture of you guys?” she asked shyly, a little bit embarrassed over having cut their conversation short.

They all reassure her though, giving her warm smiles and nods. “Sure Ellie, where do you want us?” Jamie asked while turning around, facing her.

She pulled the camera up to her eyes, “Just stand right there and give me a pose.”

Nick kept his stance, smiling at the camera. Alex brought the cigarette from between his lips, and with it between his fingers, he put his hand out as if trying to reach for the camera. Jamie turned to him then, hugging him from behind like they were Rose and Jack from Titanic.

Ella laughed as she looked through the viewfinder, pressing the shutter once she got her lenses to focus. “Beautiful!” She exclaimed as she put the camera back down, turning it off and letting it rest on her stomach while the strap was around her neck.

“What the fuck? Why are you taking pictures of everyone but me?” Matt’s voice got louder as he came closer to them.

She snorted and brought her hand to her chest, “No, I’m sorry Matt, I’ll take another one with you! C’mon!” she waved for him to go stand beside his bandmates but the stubborn man just stood there shaking his head.

“No, I don’t want to be in the picture anymore.”

She pouted at him, “C’mon, before you have to go on stage.” she elongated her words, whining for him to move.

The drummer just stood there shaking his head as he adjusted his in-ears, the reason why he wasn’t around when they took the picture. “No.”

She rolled her eyes at his obstination, “Helders, get in the picture.”

He started playing with the drumsticks he had in his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to drag you over here.” She uttered in a tired tone.

He shrugged, acting uninterested. “Okay.”

Ella threw her head back, and sighed, “Matt, please come here.”

He once again shook his head, “Thank you, I’m good.”

She deflated as the negative response reached her ears again, “Oh for fucks sake,” she mumbled to herself before pouting once again, “Please?”

The band was watching the whole situation, entertained. Matt made eye contact with Alex who was standing a couple of steps behind her, the singer just shook his head with an amused smile and Matt lost his serious stance when he chuckled.

A grin broke on her face, “Will you let me take your picture now?”

The drummer kept laughing lightly and nodded, “Yeah but this is your second and last chance.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing the camera up to her eyes. “Alright Helders, give me your best pose.” watching him through the viewfinder and trying to get the shot to focus.

He made it seem like he was going to strike a big pose, she was excited to see what he would do but then he just flipped her off with his drumsticks sticking out of his hands.

The men behind her bursted out laughing, the shutter went off once and she let the camera back down, hanging from her neck. “How nice of you, Matthew.”

He shrugged, smirking at her. “Well I really enjoyed hearing you beg, Ella.”

She rolled her eyes and it was her turn to flip him off. Matt just laughed at her, waving the lads over to start walking with him.

Just before they disappeared behind a fence, she told them “Good luck!” to which they thanked and smiled at her.

Ella went back to retrieve her margaritas, hoping no one had taken them, and to her relief they were still sitting where she had left them. She was quick to take a sip of one of the glasses, joining the group her crew made and walking with them to the side of the stage.

The festival crowd was loud, making the anticipation for their set build up. Her stomach was in knots seeing that many people and she couldn’t believe how the band didn’t seem nervous at all. They were laughing amongst themselves, adjusting their in-ears and smoking cigarettes as if they weren’t about to perform to a giant mass of people.

Ella had been staring at Alex so it was no surprise that he turned around and saw her. She kept her glance and gave him a bright grin, him matching it. He took a look at her hands and saw the cocktails she was holding onto. Alex raised his eyebrow in question, and she giggled before putting her cup up and mouthing ‘cheers’ to him to then take a long sip of the beverage.

He shook his head, smirking at her. He found everything she did so endearing, he was getting confused on what exactly was her effect on him. He couldn’t help but compare it to how he felt when Alexa would look at him or talk about him to her friends. But that was love, he was in love with Alexa and she was his girlfriend. Surely what he felt for Ella wasn’t love, he only was attracted to her; a crush, perhaps. Yet, it felt nice and he wanted to keep the feeling for as long as he could.

His thoughts were interrupted when they were instructed to get on stage. Walking up to hundreds of people who were screaming for their band and their music was something that he would never grow tired of. Not even in a narcissistic way, but a bloody-hell-I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-job way.

He blew the audience a kiss and waved at them as he went over to retrieve his guitar from its stand, then making way to the microphone to greet them. “How you doing, everybody?” he strummed his guitar, pressing on a pedal so it sounded distorted.

Her and the crew were cheering along with the crowd, only getting louder when Matt started hitting the drums. With ‘Library Pictures' they started their set, Ella knew the lyrics by heart so she was having the time of her life singing, dancing and drinking while she watched them play.

Their set lasted an hour long, and it went by so fast between the crowd going louder for their most recognized songs and the band feeding off their energy.

Soon enough, they were getting ready to play their last song, Alex said a few words before starting it. “Thank you very much everybody, thanks for coming out. You’ve been a terrific audience.” He pointed out to the people as he talked, “We’ve gotta go now, which is sad… but, erm, you enjoy the rest of your day and we’ll see you some other time.” And with that he started playing the chords to ‘When The Sun Goes Down’, singing the starting verses.

Before he repeated the last line of the song’s intro, he took a pause and the crowd yelled, cheering on the upcoming beat change. “Make some noise everybody, let me hear you.” said Alex to the crowd, encouraging their screams.

Matt took the moment to turn to the side of the stage, seeing Ella in the center of the group, with her cup almost empty and holding a burning cigarette between her fingers. She was cheering just as loud, making the drummer laugh before he looked back to the front, at the sea of people standing before the stage.

“I said, he’s a scumbag, don't you know.” sang Alex, making the beat drop and the band joining with their own instruments.

He turned around while playing his guitar, going over to Matt to continue strumming the chords when his friend nodded over to the side, where Ella was standing. He turned to look at her, and a big smile made its way to his face.

She had a cigarette perched between her lips and a half empty cup on her right hand, bumping her head to the beat while she imitated Matt’s beat of the drums with her hands. Alex laughed at how invested she was in the song, she was enjoying herself and that sight made him warm inside.

He turned back to the mic, singing the rest of the lyrics with the grin still stuck on his face. He looked over once again to the side of the stage, seeing her now imitating his fingers on the guitar. She smiled and pointed at him while singing the chorus with him.

Alex was so distracted by her actions that he almost sang the chorus once again, he stopped right away, mumbling an apology that was barely audible from the crowd’s cheers.

As the song came to an end, everyone but Alex stopped playing their instruments. Jamie threw his pick to the crowd and set his guitar down to leave; Matt stood up and waved at the crowd, leaving after Jamie. Nick went over his bass stand to set it down and crouched to get the drumstick Matt had thrown in the middle of stage, he tossed it to the crowd and put his arms up in celebration of their cheering before leaving.

Alex sang the last verse, elongating the last chord, to then turn around and leave his guitar next to Jamie’s. He grabbed his beer bottle and blew a kiss to the people before following the trail of his friends.

When he got to the side of the stage, he smirked and pointed at her, “You were the best dancer of the crowd.”

Ella blushed but jumped up and down exclaiming, “That was amazing!” Which made the rest of her crew come up to the band to congratulate them. The brits thanked everyone as they were all making their ways back down to the festival grounds.

Alex stood by her side, taking sip after sip of his beer. And as they took the last step of the stairs to the grass, she leaned into him and with slurred words said, “You know… this haircut really goes well with the whole rockstar thing you’ve got going on. The leather jacket, sunglasses everywhere and all that, pairs really well.”

He laughed at her drunken monologue, “How many margaritas have you had?”

She thought about it for a few seconds, frowning as she tapped her index finger on her lips, “Three, I think?” She thought back to how many times she’d left the side of the stage to make herself a drink and going back through her mind, she realized it had only been once while they were playing ‘Brick by Brick’.

He hummed and nodded at her response, “Well enjoy your last few sips of this one because it’s your last one.”

Ella pouted but nodded, knowing it would be for the better, considering they had to shoot right after the festival. “Okay, I guess.” She downed what was left of the drink, “Done!” she said with a smile, putting the now empty cup upside down in front of her, a single drop falling to the ground.

Alex chuckled at her, “You’re something else.” She was looking at him, squinting her eyes from the sun, so he grabbed his sunglasses and placed them on the bridge of her nose.

She adjusted them and softly nudged his hips with hers, “Thanks, the sun was about to make me cry.”

“You’re very welcome, they look good on you.” He complimented, making her blush.

She shook her head and put some of her hair behind her ear, “Ever the flatterer, Turner.”

They decided to go over the drinks tent to get Ella some water so she could sober up. She practically downed the first cup in less than thirty seconds, realizing how thirsty she had been for something non alcoholic or sweet. With a new cup of water for her, and a new beer bottle for Alex, they went up to their large group again.

Everyone decided to stay and watch The Black Keys, meaning they would leave at around seven thirty and they could reach their filming location to set everything up before it went fully dark out.

During the American band’s set, she had started to shiver. The sun was coming down and the wind was picking up, her no sleeve bodysuit and shorts weren’t helping her in the slightest and she had left her jacket on the bus.

When a particularly cold draft of air hit her back, the words automatically left her lips, “Shit, it’s so cold.” She was shivering despite Alex being beside her.

He of course took the opportunity to be cheeky, so he put his arm around her and hugged her to his side, “Is that better?”

“As much as I’d love to say yes, no.” she honestly replied when the wind still made her shake even with his hold tight on her.

He nodded, taking his arm off her. She thought for a second that maybe he had taken it the wrong way. But he placed his beer bottle on the ground, and took his jacket off, picking his bottle back up when he had the leather coat on his left hand.

“Here you go.” He offered his jacket to her, a shy smile on his face. He knew all about giving girls his jacket and how that looks to other people but he couldn’t give a shit about others’ opinions when he wanted her to be warm and to see how she’d look wearing something of his—other than his eyewear, that is.

She immediately looked to her sides at the crew scrambled around the main stage side area where they were standing. They were with the crowd but far away enough that no one would bother them, the people were too engrossed in the band playing on stage. The group she’d come with were all distracted as well and weren’t looking at them but she still didn’t want to draw more attention to them and she had a feeling that once they went to the hotel to sleep, she would be drowned in questions from her coworkers about her and Alex’s proximity.

She waved her hand in front of her as if to say no, “Alex, it’s fine I can bear it for a little longer until we leave.”

He knew why she was saying no, as she kept glancing over to her bosses and coworkers, so he reassured her, “Everyone is distracted Ella, no one’s going to see.” He understood her distress since he didn’t want her to get in trouble either or for people to talk about things that don’t concern them, but it would be fine.

Blood rushed to her cheeks when he said that, knowing he knew exactly what her thoughts were on the situation, so she sighed and gave in. “You’re annoying.” she stated as she grabbed the coat from him.

With a smirk on his face, he was quick to bite back, “And you’re very stubborn.”

Ella felt the comfort engulf her as she put the jacket on, drowning in his scent. It was slightly big on her but she looked stunning nonetheless, the sleeves covering up her hands made him want to squeeze her cheeks and kiss her. He felt the sudden urge to kiss her.

But they just smiled at each other, enjoying each other’s company far too much for this to be only a friend-through-work situation. His sunglasses were resting on top of her head now, so he stared at her hazel green eyes, getting lost in her gaze. She was staring right back at him with the hints of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. They were engrossed in each other's features while ‘Howlin’ for You’ played in the background, it was the claps and cheers that brought them back to where they were.

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About half an hour after The Black Keys set had finished, they had left the festival and arrived at the location they were filming. The production crew wasted no time and scrambled off their small bus to start setting everything up, taking advantage of the last minutes of light the sunset offered.

After what felt like another half an hour later, the empty field was now filled with light panels surrounding a black vintage car that was going to be the main attraction for this section of the music video.

Ella went into full work mode right as she stepped out of the bus. She was no longer wearing Alex’s jacket, she changed it for hers as soon as she got in the bus to avoid any questioning, his sunglasses now hanging on the neck of her bodysuit.

She was running around checking on everyone, making calls to the actor who was on his way for the next section of the music video that they were recording tonight as well. The model, Cali, was getting her makeup done after having been put in a skin tight black latex dress with matching heeled boots.

There was so much to check up around that she was definitely sober now. She stood by the directors once the model was ready and she pointed her where to go.

As the directors were busy and everyone was focused on setting audio and cameras up properly, she went back to the bus to retrieve Alex’s jacket.

He was standing on the left side of the production setup, far away in the shadows smoking a cigarette. The rest of the band stood looking as well, only closer to the directors’ chairs. She made sure to make enough noise for him to realize she was there but not enough to disrupt the filming process.

When Ella reached his side, she lightly touched his arm and he turned to her smiling. “Thank you.” she mouthed to him and he just nodded, scared of getting scolded for making any noise that could somehow ruin the shoot.

Knowing she had to leave and be present at her job, she pointed backwards so he got that she was going back to Ben and Aaron’s side. He would’ve loved to have her beside him while they filmed but she couldn’t and she wouldn’t either, she was professional and he had seen that before. So he nodded once again and as he went to take the ashy stick out of his lips, he waved her goodbye.

The model was posing in front of the cameras, getting filmed by two of them when Ella made it back to her bosses’ side. Only ten minutes later they announced they had enough footage of that and they could move on to the next frame which included Alex and Matt.

She had to call them over and the stylists made sure to have them looking good and ready before they stepped into the car. Alex took over the driver’s seat, Matt in the backseat of the car along with Cali.

A speaker they had brought along blasted the song they were filming for, ‘Black Treacle’, and she had to bite her tongue not to sing along.

The directors wasted no time in recording the new shot. Alex mimicked driving while he sang the lines he had composed, acting very confident and collected as he stared up front like there weren't two big cameras up on his face.

In great comparison, Matt sat with Cali on his lap, acting like she was getting off with him; his hands wandering up and down her sides, one of them grazing her ass.

Ben called cut about five minutes later, making Cali take place beside Matt once again. Ella was instructed by Aaron to retrieve something from the production design table, a Lyle’s black treacle can.

The main camera on Alex’s face still rolling as the two behind him listened intently to the instructions. Alex took the time to mess around in front of the camera, lifting his hand up and showing the middle finger to it, to then raise his index finger and make it a peace sign. He put his hand down to, seconds later, bring the peace sign back up, this time slightly puckering his lips up to the lenses.

She came back with the item in hand and Aaron thanked her before swiftly placing it on top of the car’s dashboard, perfectly subtle in the shot. Ben finished with his instructions and went back to Aaron’s side, calling the other camera men to start rolling again. And after another fifteen minutes of Alex’s fake driving and Matt’s fake makeout, the scene was wrapped up.

The two musicians made it out of the car; Cali followed close behind, but walked over to the makeup team where she could sit. Alex spotted Jamie and Nick standing beside Ella, who had her usual blue clipboard held tight to her side.

Jamie smirked at his drummer friend and was quick to tease, “Look at you Helders, getting all the action.”

Ella grinned at the comment before adding, “Yeah, isn’t that meant for the lead singers?” her gaze playful on Alex now, seeing his smirk as reaction to her comment.

“Oh he would love that, just with someone else I’m sure.” Matt trailed off, looking at Alex and then back to Ella.

Alex’s grin faltered at his friend’s statement, his face going slightly pale at the very obvious glance he had given the American girl, one that Ella hadn’t even noticed since she was preoccupied at how he had reacted at the mention of that someone else, feeling a pitiful sinking of her stomach.

“Matt, I swear I’ll kick you if you talk too much.” Alex quickly threatened through his teeth, staring sternly at his friend missing her brief frown.

Ella was quick to clear her throat, bringing an act up and stupidly trying to pry information on who that someone else might be, to settle the fact that everything that had happened today had been nothing to get excited about. Or maybe he was just flirty and she felt dumb for feeling special about the way he acted with her.

She internally laughed at herself for being pathetic and getting her hopes up for getting his attention for a day, she had to remind herself of what was reality. He was a rockstar and she was just a PA. He was constantly touring the world and she stayed in California. He could have anyone he wanted and she was just another girl.

Cursing herself for feeling so down over the comment she forced out a chuckle, “Oh, who’s the girl that has caught your eye? Is she a model as well?”

Alex whipped his head around to look at her, his features coated in confusion. He automatically saw through her, the way she was fiddling with her pen and the lack of authenticity behind her grin, her eyes showed the slightest bit of disappointment. He softly grinned at the thought of it meaning that she found him attractive and liked his company too, but his heart sank as he saw how Matt’s comment had rubbed off the wrong way on her.

He turned back to Matt and scolded him, “Helders, just shut up.”

His need to keep Matt quiet about the matter made her evening bitter, the thought of seeing herself as a fool only cutting deeper inside her. Jamie and Nick laughed, Matt pressed his lips together in amusement, all whilst Ella had to fake another laugh but failed at making it sound real.

Aaron called her up this time, her feet quickly taking her to her boss without even saying bye to the band since she just wanted to get away.

The crew had to put up a bonfire now, so a group of six people started gathering what they would need. The car was moved to the side by a crew member, getting the space free to make the brick circle in which they set the tinder and kindling wood, and then formed a teepee of firewood over it. Ella threw three matches and started the fire, the flames growing taller as the seconds went by, warming everyone around the site.

In fear of the fire burning out too quickly because of the wind, they started rolling the new scene soon after the flames came alive. The whole band was instructed to come in front of the burning wood, and they were filmed standing around it for only five minutes as they grew too hot, too soon.

With a few minutes to cool down, Matt was called in front of it again, to pose for the camera just to have those visually pleasing shots. And lastly it was Alex’s turn. He looked angelic, contrasted to the hell-like heat that burned; his leather clad back facing the camera, all Ella could see was the way the flames outlined his body frame in a way she just had to capture. She placed her clipboard between her legs and was quick to pull her camera to her eyes after turning it on. She took the picture and after advancing the film, quickly turned the device back off, feeling the weight on her neck again but satisfied by immortalizing such a moment.

He was hypnotic to her. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way he looked. Everything he did was smooth and magnetic, and she couldn’t peel her eyes off of him.

She was too enthralled by the singer that she didn’t notice how Matt had caught her taking the picture. He smiled at the sight and at how her shoulders slumped after she had pressed the shutter as if relieved to have caught the perfect frame.

He wouldn’t say anything to her about it but he wanted to make her know he’d seen it happen in a subtle way. So he approached her slowly and once beside her he asked, “Enjoy film photography much?”

Ella turned to see him, wide eyed and flushed but cleared her throat knowing there was nothing she could do if Matt had seen her actions. “A lot, yes. I started back in freshman year of university. Learned quite fast since I took a lot of pictures in frat parties,” She chuckled at the memory, “You become quite popular and invited to each and every one of them when you are recognized as the photographer.”

Matt hummed in response, “I got into photography in college at 16, around the same time I got into the drums. It was mainly because we just had access to cameras and we also had a dark room to develop our own pictures.”

She was slightly surprised but her smile quickly made an appearance on her face. She hadn’t genuinely smiled in a good fifteen minutes. “That’s sick! I’ve always wanted to have a proper dark room to develop. What camera do you use?”

“A Canon Canonet and I love it but I think I might get a Leica next. It’s just hard to let go of the first camera you fall in love with, isn’t it?”

Ella giggled as she nodded, “It really is.”

“Can I give yours a look?” Matt asked, genuinely curious about her gear and she nodded with enthusiasm.

She handed him her Minolta X-370, telling him how she had started in digital when she was in highschool before she saved up enough to get a second hand Olympus OM-10 in university and that was when she had fallen in love with analog photography, that had only led her into a massive spiral of film photography which was now one of her true passions along with videography.

Ella let him take a few shots, telling him how many shots she remembered to have left on the roll and she loved being able to bond with him over photography.

Alex was a few steps away from them when he saw them standing next to each other, sharing a high five. Her arm was on his shoulder while he held her camera in his hands and something inside Alex stung. His jaw tightened but seeing her smiling big after what had happened before made him loosen up again, stubbornly grateful for his friend for bringing back the sight.

The singer cleared his throat and they both brought their eyes up to him. “Hey mate. Was just telling Ellie how I’ve been into film photography since we were 16 and she let me give her camera a go. Can’t say I’ve ever used a Minolta before.” Matt explained, seeing the obvious unsettled feeling his friend was showing.

“Now that I know you take film, promise me you’re gonna send me your scans.” Ella pointed at him seriously, “The pictures you get while on tour must be stunning.”

Matt chuckled and gave her back her camera, “They are. I’ll send you some later.”

A tiny shriek came from her as she hugged Matt briefly, “Okay, I’m going to check on Ben and Aaron now, see you in a bit.” Her steps were fast, making her miss the sigh Alex left out after her abrupt goodbye.

A few minutes later, she had received a call from the actor telling her that he was at the place, so she met up with him and brought him over to get ready. It didn’t take long for the man to be in his costume which consisted of some jeans and an orange flannel.

Taking advantage of the energy they all still had, they didn’t waste more time and drove to a gas station that had allowed them to film, a mile away from them.

Once there, everyone took out their equipment and settled for the filming to resume. Matt had to act like he beat the man up in exchange for his clothes, since the drummer was playing a fugitive who still wore that typical inmate orange jumpsuit.

In the middle of the filming, Matt had started complaining about being hungry and not subtly commenting how good the food from the place crossing the street smelt like so Ella was sent over to the tiny restaurant and came back in record time with a big burrito in her hands.

Matt thanked her and went straight for it, the camera even catching him eating while he was supposed to be in character, driving Alex and Cali. She was sure the editing team would still use the shots though, since they looked so natural and weirdly accurate for the plot.

When the drummer came back out of the car, munching on his food, Ella took the chance of teasing him. “You know, you look like a proper southern dad. A farmer dad.”

Jamie and Nick doubled over in laughter, “Oh my god, he does!” exclaimed the bassist in laughs.

“Mate never move to the south of the states and have kids, it isn’t a good look.” Alex added, struggling to keep the laughs inside.

“You’re all jealous because I’m the main character now.” stated Matt, which earned him multiple head shakes and sneers.

Ella snorted, “Trust me Matt, no one’s jealous of that look.” And with that, laughter rained up on the group.

Their amusement was interrupted by Ben wrapping the evening up, signaling everyone on the Focus Creeps crew to pack up and fit everything back in the bus.

They drove up to the hotel the band was staying at, Aaron having managed to get rooms at the same place for a night.

At the lobby, the crew separated into groups and made a line to retrieve their keycards. Everyone with a backpack on their sides and a tired look on their faces. The British men were far too tired to wait until they were done, deciding to just say goodbye right there and go to their rooms.

Alex went up to the directors, shaking their hands and saying goodnight. The rest of his mates doing the same, and despite wanting nothing more than to hug Ella goodnight, he had to settle for waving her goodbye just like he did everyone else.

She gave him a shy smile and a tiny goodnight that definitely didn’t reach his ears. And with that he went to the elevators, eventually passing out in his bed with her on his mind.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

They had a good night of sleep, despite having to wake up early to have breakfast and check out as soon as possible. They should be arriving at Los Angeles before one in the afternoon, and with a six hour drive ahead of them, they needed to fight the clock.

Her brain had been swarmed by thoughts and she cursed her tendency to overthink for keeping her up longer than she had wanted to.

Ella knew people had noticed how close she was with Alex throughout the day and she knew questions were coming but the palms of her hands still clammed up when multiple people approached her in the lobby wanting to know details on the situation.

She had denied everything, swearing none of them felt any type of way towards the other—even though she knew she’d let her hopes rise up and it had ended up poorly for her. She denied having kissed him when they asked her, even if she’d been thinking about how that would feel all day.

She told them all how he was flirty with everyone, it was his personality so they shouldn’t think anything else about it. She was glad half of them shut up after that, the other half smirking at her, calling her lucky or mocking her words as if to say she was full of shit.

Ella got ready and had breakfast quite early, pinching an Advil from one of her coworkers for the slight headache she’d woken up with this morning. Today was packed: they’d be driving back to Los Angeles and basically recording the whole day, for as long as the sun decided to stay up; so she really needed this headache to go away.

They ended up loading the bus and heading off back to LA before it hit eight, managing to arrive at their location a little bit over one in the afternoon.

It was good that the crew was quick and effective, setting everything up in less than twenty minutes, enough time to have Matt ready and Breana, the new model, getting her hair and makeup done as well.

They were propped up inside an abandoned police station in the middle of the desert. It had a couple of jail cells, a tiny medical wing and some offices for the staff that used to work there.

Right when the cameras were ready to go, Ben had Alex walk through hallways to be recorded like that. He was wearing his typical jeans and leather jacket, with a simple shirt but always loyal to his sunglasses, even indoors. Matt was in one of the cells wearing an inmate jumpsuit, being filmed by two people and guided by Aaron.

She was running everywhere, being needed for small things every five minutes, even having to leave the premises with one of her coworkers to retrieve the rental car they had gotten that was the same make and model from the one they had used in San Francisco the night before.

Ella smiled at Alex when they made eye contact as she made her way to Ben. “Rental is here, we have Breana ready in the wedding dress and Aaron is still over there with Matt, I don’t really know how much he’s got left.” she informed her boss, to have him make the decision on what to do next.

Ben nodded and thought for a couple of seconds under the gaze of multiple people, “Let’s go ahead and do Breana’s shots outside while Aaron finishes up with Matt.”

“Alright, I’m gonna let him know.” just as fast as she said that, she left.

Alex knew that after Matt’s comment on set, she had retrieved back into that shell of hers. He wanted to know why, not trusting himself to come up with his own answers. The one thing he knew is that he’d try to make her feel better today, in any way he could. He’d just have to trust he’d have his chances.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

His luck had run out, or that’s what he thought had happened as he had no chance of talking to her at any moment throughout the day.

When she was free to talk, he was being filmed. When he was given the light to stand back behind the cameras, she was outside filming with Ben and Breana. When he could see her coming inside the building, she was way too busy for him to try and approach her. When they all went outside to join the other part of the crew, he had to go in the car to film with Matt and Breana.

Ella was on full work mode, it was hard to believe she was fighting a resilient headache that hadn’t died down even after the pills she’d taken. She was constantly asking Breana if she was alright, knowing she had to be somehow uncomfortable in a big wedding dress, in the middle of the desert under the blazing sun. A total of four water bottles is what the model had gone through, and Ella was slightly concerned as she was on her fifth bottle herself and she wasn’t the one running for the camera.

Ella trusted her though. Breana, or Bre—how she had told Ella she could call her—, was so nice to her. She had been making her laugh in between takes and she was grateful for the lovely distraction being the model and not Alex.

Maybe, she thought, I can get used to not being distracted by Alex and keeping it professional if I keep busy enough.

Now, after hours since Aaron and Ben had decided to wrap up on the desert scenes and they had all gone to a new hotel close to where they were filming the next day to shower, the whole group had followed someone’s suggestion on a bar nearby and they were surrounded by very American decoration—too neon for her tired eyes—and the constant chatter and clinking of glasses against each other.

The thuds of balls hitting the pool table’s wooden borders were surprisingly loud over the old juicebox machine that was playing some country song she could remember listening to on the radio when driving around the countryside at six years old in her dad’s truck.

Places like this brought her back home, and she found herself rubbing her fingers over her little cowboy hat on her arm while she took sip after sip of her rum and coke, absentmindedly nodding along at her coworker's story from her sister’s bachelorette party.

“Thank God her best friend didn’t end up calling those strippers or my grandma would’ve fainted and made her kick her out before the evening was over.”

Taking that as a cue, Ella straightened up and excused herself to go over to the bar for a refill. The place was fairly busy for a Sunday night, so instead of going back to her friends while she waited for the bartender to take her order, she leaned on the side of the bar’s varnished wood countertop.

“Excuse me.” She heard someone say softly to the couple talking to her right, they nodded towards the person and stepped aside to give him some space.

Of course she didn’t need to turn to see who it was, Alex Turner himself was standing beside her, looking as handsome as ever and smirking down at her.

“Fancy seeing you here.” he greeted, his smirk only growing when she rolled her eyes and blushed.

“Hey Alex,” her voice was soft and if he wasn’t right beside her, he could’ve missed her words. “You enjoying yourself?”

She was adorable, going all shy, and Alex felt slightly bad for coming over with the intention of being explicitly flirty with her but he also wanted to shoot his shot and see her reaction. “It’s been good so far. I actually came here to tell you something.” he left his words lingering in the air and she frowned at the mysteriousness of it all.

He was still smirking though, so it was confusing her a little, “What’s up?”

“I think there must be something wrong with my eyes,” he started and she got a tiny bit closer to see right into his eyes so she could see if he’d gotten anything in them, but he caught her off guard with what he said next, “I can’t seem to take them off of you.”

Ella could feel her cheeks burning up, her jaw had fallen slightly and she almost let out a scoff in disbelief. She ended up laughing as she shook her head, “How much have you had to drink?”

He shrugged and completely evaded her question, “I mean it.” Truth is he had only had two pints of beer, he wasn’t even drunk.

She was sure it was impossible for her cheeks to go redder but they had and she felt them hotter than ever, “Oh Alex, stop it.” she stared at the ground and shook her head.

The bartender caught her attention then and she got another glass, filled almost to the rim. She tipped the man good for the generosity, she really needed the liquid courage if Alex was saying shit like that to her.

But before she could keep the conversation, he leaned into her ear and with his arm snaking around her waist and said “See you around Ella.” and with a gentle squeeze of her side, he left her there, blushing and breathless.

Fucking hell, so much for keeping myself distracted from him.

Thirty minutes later, she felt like she was in those movies where you get stuck in the same day, over and over, because Alex was by her side once more while she waited for the bartender to make his way around to her.

She turned to her side to face him and before she even had the chance to say something he gave her another flirty line, “Serious question,” she nodded at his fake appearance of curiosity, already feeling her cheeks turning crimson by whatever he was going to say, “How does it feel like to be the most gorgeous girl in the room?”

Ella was expecting a pick up line but not that pick up line and she definitely went bright red. She covered her face so he couldn’t see her like that but he had been staring at her face, he hadn’t missed the way she’d blushed even if he’d only seen it for a second before she’d use her hands to hide.

“Alexxxx” she whined, not knowing what else to say, because what could she say after that? She never had a clue of what she was supposed to respond to pick up lines and the fact that it was Alex saying them made it even harder to think. Not just a response, anything. Anything at all.

He hummed in satisfaction, smirking at her,“I like it when you say my name like that.”

Something inside her flipped and she felt a tingling feeling travel all throughout her body, specially feeling those words between her legs. She wouldn’t even dare to open her mouth, scared of the noise or whatever words that would come out so she stuck to shaking her head.

A few seconds later, she pulled her head back up from between her hands, “Do you always tell girls the same lines?”

He shook his head confidently, “No, I promise this is the first time I’ve ever told a girl that last one.”

Ella narrowed her eyes at him, “I don’t believe you.” He’s full of shit, there’s no way he hasn’t used that one before, she thought.

He grinned softly at her, as if to reassure her, “It’s a promise and I don’t break those Ellie.”

In the same second her name had left his lips, the thud of a glass being put on the table was heard. She slapped some ten bills on the side for the man who served her to take and she turned around to the singer to lift her glass up and down her double rum on the rocks.

He chuckled at her, as she wiped a drop of alcohol from her chin and licked the finger she’d done it with. “Okay, easy there Ellie.”

She was feeling a little bit braver by now, and still not believing him she dared him, “Don’t you have any cheesier lines left, Turner?”

He smirked, “Yeah, this one,” he cleared his throat and started, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude, but you owe me a drink…” he took a pause, his facial expression dramatic as he put up a character to deliver the line correctly. Ella was expectantly waiting for the next bit, slightly growing impatient even if it had only been a pause of five seconds, “Because when I saw you, I dropped mine.”

She burst out laughing, not believing him for using that cringey line. “Has that one ever worked?” she asked between giggles.

He smiled amused at her laughter, “To be honest, I don’t think so.”

They both doubled over in laughter, the alcohol making the situation funnier than it was but she was laughing with him and that’s all that mattered, and as she stayed the rest of the night with him, talking and sharing drinks, it made him feel even more pleased. It was a feeling that stuck with him even after the rest of the band and some of the members of her crew joined them for the rest of the night.

After the short walk back to the hotel from the bar that she’d done beside Diana and Tyler, she went up to her hotel room. The night was quiet, hallways echoed at the slightest step you took and it felt like you could startle everyone awake on your floor when you closed the door to your room, but her brain was in a frenzy.

As she dumped micellar water on a cotton pad to take off her makeup, continuing with every step of her nighttime routine, it seemed like her mind wouldn’t shut up about the bar and Alex. Alex at the bar. Alex at the bar with her. Everything he had said at the bar. All the fleeting touches she could still feel on her skin.

Ella felt like screaming at herself, to shut it all up. She couldn’t get her hopes up for some cheesy pick up lines he could’ve googled five minutes before approaching her, for some hugs that maybe were usual for him to give around, for the behavior that maybe was his normal way to be.

He could be flirty with everyone.

She didn’t necessarily know him that well to tell if this was special treatment or if he was that way with every lady he got close with. And on top of it all, he had been drinking, and under the influence she was well aware people tended to turn more flirtatious than usual. Her older sister was living proof of that, and she shivered at the flash of memories that came to the front of her mind with that train of thought.

She pointed at herself in the mirror while brushing her teeth, her eyes stern and seemingly threatening. You either get a grip or you get someone to slap you into consciousness, she threatened herself and with a nod, she finished getting ready for bed. She only hoped that once she got in bed, sleep would get her as soon as her head touched the pillow.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It hadn’t been like that.

Her brain did her dirty once again, and she kept herself awake for way too long overthinking. Just like she always did. Her days were a cycle of constant overthinking, that’s why she made sure to keep herself busy, or to keep a packet of cigarettes and her lighter always on her.

This new day was going to be just as exhausting as the one before it, only even harder due to the hangover she was sporting. She’d taken two ibuprofens first thing in the morning, chugged a bottle of water and put on some cheap black sunglasses she’d bought at a gas station on the last spring break she’d celebrated in Florida with her university friends that surprisingly had survived the wear of the years. Her film camera was hanging around her neck once again, making sure she’d have it with her since regretting leaving it in her backpack instead of taking it to the bar with her the night before.

They all drove to a house a couple of miles away from where they had stayed the night. Still out in the desert, the house was very rustic and had a giant backyard. There was a pool and outside of the fences that surrounded the property was an old stable, surrounded by old cars and a junkyard in which the owner seemed to like to play mechanic.

Bre was getting ready and her outfits for the shoot had Ella’s jaw dropping every time. She couldn’t deny how gorgeous Breana was, and to be honest she might even have a slight crush on the model but she wouldn’t do anything about it.

The day was going by smoothly. Aaron and Ben stayed filming with Tyler inside the house, most of the time the crew was kept to a minimum to keep Bre comfortable when she had to film half naked or topless.

Breana was a good sport though, very professional and keeping a straight face and in character even when Ella thought she’d feel vulnerable, because god knows that if she even had to be in her underwear in front of one single camera she’d be blushing and shaking non stop. Ella was in awe of how easy it was for Bre to strip down in front of Matt—who she’d just met the day before—and the rest of the people standing behind the scenes, and basically act like she was having sex with the drummer.

So Ella was running around as per usual but most of the time it was to have Bre be at her most comfortable state, getting her water when she needed it, handing her a robe if she asked for it, asking if she wanted anything in particular or if she was comfortable with the shot they’d just done.

When everyone came outside and it was time for Matt and Breana to be filmed messing around in the pool, Alex finally saw her behavior towards the model and he couldn’t help but silently laugh. Nick and Jamie confused as to what was the laughter for when Breana was topless diving into the pool now, they thought maybe it was funny because of Matt’s reactions to the model and that was the only conclusion they could get at while watching everything unfold in front of them.

When Ella made her way by Alex’s side and sighed, he chuckled under his breath. She turned to him and frowned, slightly confused at his reaction to her coming his way. “What?” she’d asked rather defensively but still lighthearted.

“I haven’t seen someone act like this since I was in primary school and someone had a crush on a girl from their class.” he smirked playfully at her.

She rolled her eyes, blushing at being caught for tending a lot to Breana. “Oh shut up, you can’t blame me. Look at her, she’s stunning.”

He didn’t take her eyes off of her though as he replied rather lazily, “Hmm, I guess she is.”

She turned to him slightly offended, “You guess?”

He rolled his eyes playfully now, “Okay yes, she is stunning.” He stated one more time but was still watching the American girl in front of him intently.

Ella hummed with a doubtful expression on her face while she frowned, “I thought so… Was starting to think you had some real trouble with your eyes then.”

He took the opportunity to bring yesterday back up then, “I tried telling you yesterday, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Something in her went hot and flipped at the same time, “You’re a tease, you know that Turner?” she nudged him with her hip, making him slightly sway to the side.

“I’ve been told that one too many times.” Alex smirked at her, nudging her back with his hip.

Ella had to force her jaw to stay in place, unholy thoughts making way through her mind and she knew she would go bright red if she kept looking at him while thinking of all the ways she could make him prove that.

She looked back to her front, seeing Breana come back out of the water and hugging herself. She cleared her throat and pointed to her right side, “I’m gonna get her a towel.” she muttered and a shit eating grin was plastered on his face from seeing her reaction to such a simple sentence.

As she left, with the slight sway of her hips and the sight of the high rise black shorts she had on and how they contrasted against her tan legs, he also had some unholy thoughts about how pretty she’d look in between his sheets.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Before the trip had happened, and the list was handed to her at the start of the month, Ella had suggested bringing a biker gang to record with the Monkeys. Because what’s more American than a biker gang.

Ben and Aaron had jumped on the idea straight away, and she made sure to find the friendliest group of bikers out there that were down to appear in the video posing as a dangerous outlaw gang.

An hour later since she had left Alex’s side, she had made her way back to where the band—minus Matt—was standing. “Okay so I have a surprise…” she said in a high pitch tone and with her hands clutching her clipboard tightly to her chest as she rose up and down on her tippy toes as if she wanted to jump on her place but was holding back from doing it.

Nick automatically matched her enthusiasm, “What is it?” he asked effusively and Jamie raised an eyebrow and laughed at his mate’s reaction.

“So I hired a biker gang for the video,” she paused and her smile got even brighter when she saw the three men respond positively to her surprise, “and you’re all joining them on the ride while we film.”

Jamie nodded excitedly, “That’s brilliant, thank you Ella.”

She almost screeched, “I’m so glad you liked the idea, for a second before coming here I got scared you all hated bikes or something.”

Alex shook his head, “We actually have ours at home.”

She gasped, “Oh really?!? Oh my god– Okay, okay, let’s go!” She turned around quickly, hoping they would follow her as she made her way to the big group of sixteen people on bikes that were waiting by the side of the big empty road.

The guys chuckled at her eagerness, and went behind her matching her quick pace. Once they reached the bikers, she made sure to introduce them all and thank them for coming and filming with the band.

She’s adorable, thought Alex.

Ben had gotten four bikes for the band, which were standing a little further behind the large group of bikers. Ella made sure to guide them to the vehicles, Matt already sitting on his with Breana sat behind him. They seemed quite cozy for the camera’s not to be rolling anymore.

As the guys chose their bikes, she turned on her camera. Alex was sitting on the bike he’d chosen, putting the helmet on and the leather gloves that were there as well.

Matt opened his mouth, seeing the perfect opportunity laid out in front of him so he asked in a tone that said he was up to no good, “Ella! Have you ever ridden a motorbike?”

She shook her head, “No, but they seem fun though.”

The biggest, most satisfied grin appeared on the drummer’s face then, “Oh I’m sure Alex would love to take you for a ride.” His tone so suggestive, Breana laughed harder than she’d anticipated, having to hide in Matt’s neck to lower the intensity of it.

Nick continued the teasing, “Alex likes a good ride, you’re assured to have fun.”

Jamie not even missing a beat before adding, “Or you could take her for a ride later if that’s what you both want, privacy and all.” The guitarist winked and she was as red as one could be, but she took her camera and used it as a prop to hide her blush.

In the viewfinder she found Alex flipping off Jamie and Nick who were standing on his right side by the bikes they had chosen. She focused the shot and pressed the shutter, rolling the film to have it ready for the next frame.

Alex turned to Helders then, taking his helmet off to talk. Instead of directing his words to his friend, he sent them to Breana, “I assure you Breana, it’s not gonna be a good ride so don’t waste your time.”

Breana laughed even louder, making Ella do the same and the guys exploded in laughter when Matt copied Alex and flipped him off. “Don’t listen to him Bre, I promise that’s not true. He’s just frustrated.”

“Well that sounds desperate now, Matthew.” Ella chatted back after gaining back some composure.

“No it doesn’t, I’m just saying… It’s not a veridic statement.” The drummer continued pushing his argument.

Jamie snickered, “You’re just making it worse there mate.”

Matt huffed, the bandana covering his mouth blowing at his action. “You know what? See ya’ later, dickheads!”

And with that and a shriek from Bre, he changed gears, pressed the pedal and went fast straight into the empty road.

Ella turned around after the cloud of dust had disappeared and looked at Alex who was squinting from the sun’s intensity and his lack of sunglasses on his face. She still had her camera on and in between her hands, so she snapped one last shot of him with his hair all messy from taking the helmet off and sweaty from the desert’s burning weather.

She advanced the film roll one last time before turning her camera back off and letting it hang on her neck. Nick and Jamie had put on their gloves already and were getting the helmets on their heads when Alex spoke up.

“So are you hopping on or not?” his hands were resting on his spread thighs and she had to force herself not to get distracted by those legs and look up to his face.

“I don’t know… Ben and Aaron might need me and I–”

“They won’t say anything if I explain how I’d refuse to get in the shot if you weren’t riding with me.” he shrugged nonchalantly while she was blushing once again. “C’mon, I wanna be the one that gives you your first ride.” he said innocently, no suggestive undertone.

She raised her left eyebrow and replied, “You wouldn’t be the first one.”

“But you said–?” he continued, confused until he saw her face and realized what she meant. He smirked at her sudden boldness, “Well then, we shall see how well you ride.”

And just like that her boldness was snapped away and she blushed harder. Keeping her stare at the ground as she took her steps over to him and the bike, she reached to grab the helmet Matt had left behind and she put it on carefully under Alex’s gaze. Moving her camera to rest on her left side rather than on her stomach.

Carefully she sat behind the singer, not really knowing what to do with her arms. He saw her hesitating hugging him by the waist so he encouraged the action. “Just hold onto me alright? I promise I won’t go too fast.”

She hummed at his promise, scooting a bit closer to his back so she was pressed into him. Her hands clasping each other around his middle was a sight that made him smile hard under his helmet.

When he revved the engine of the bike, her hold got tighter and he laughed at the tiny shriek she let out. “Don’t worry, I got you Ellie.” He squeezed her right thigh briefly in reassurance, and with the thought of how natural it felt to do that with her, he changed gears and started driving.

They rode the bikes for about twenty minutes, mainly following the same path as the bikers. The cameras followed them and she was living for the thrill it gave her. The day hadn’t finished, yet she couldn’t wait for the next time she’d get to ride a bike.

Taking a break in a long dirt field, Matt and Alex stood up from the bikes, Ella still sat on Alex’s but without her helmet now. Alex’s helmet had taken over his seat and they were all smoking Ella’s cigarettes.

Both musicians had teased her for her selection of cigarettes, “Really Ella? You couldn’t get more American.” Matt had said the second he saw the turquoise Natural American Spirit cigarette pack.

Alex giggled, “What does organic cigarettes even mean?”

She excused herself blushing like she always did. “It means the tobacco is organic,” she rolled her eyes, “but okay, let me be, I just wanted to try them. A friend recommended them to me but I’m waiting to finish this pack to go back to my Marlboro reds. I miss them.” she sighed letting the smoke out of her lungs.

Matt continued to tease, “Organic cigarettes…” he shook his head smiling, knowing that he was pushing Ella’s buttons even more.

“Okay Helders, you know what? Just shut up, I’m never sharing smokes with you again.” she scoffed, not annoyed entirely but she was teasing him as well.

“Good for me if I can avoid whatever this is.” he said waving the half burned cigarette.

She rolled her eyes once more before taking a long drag of her cigarette and then tossing it on the ground and quickly stepping on top of it. “Whatever,” she pulled her camera that was still resting on her side and turned it on, “pose for me idiots, lighting looks good here.”

They stayed where they were, chuckling but turned to look at her. Alex took a drag of his cigarette and Matt just stood there with the bandana around his neck now rather than covering half of his face. After she pressed the shutter once, she used the lever to roll the film and took one last picture. She turned it back off and waited for the men to finish smoking.

And right there her thoughts were once again all taken by Alex. She knew smoking was bad—hell, her mom had given her a huge lecture when she’d first found her smoking on a picture in Facebook, telling her all about how your lungs would slowly die and she’d get cancer if she kept that up. She knew it was true but she still rolled her eyes, she’d grown with the smell of burning tobacco from how her dad would always have at least two a day, what did she expect?

But it truly seemed like smoking didn’t do anything but good to Alex. He looked so especially hot to her when he was smoking. And she swore he could be the example of the arguments to fight the debate on smoking, in favor of the scientifically proven murderous addiction.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The day had gone on, Ben and Aaron didn’t say much about her riding in the back of Alex’s bike. She’d been nervous when approaching her bosses to ask if there was anything she could help with, but she was surprised when they just told her that the bikers scenes had been amazing, they thanked her for the good idea and managing to get such a cool group of people to work with.

She was elated to say the least, a weight lifting off her shoulders at the lack of trouble. She still had had to deal with the curious looks from multiple people on her crew but she was getting used to them now and she had been learning how to ignore them.

One of the last scenes they filmed was of Matt and Breana getting off on top of a UK flag. A fire was burning on a metal barrel beside them, the flames contrasting perfectly against the pitch black surroundings and setting the mood for the couple being filmed.

She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, she just knew Matt and Breana were hot together and she was holding her jaw closed with a bit of struggle. The band was standing with her, Nick and Jamie to her left and Alex to her right. The singer had told his two bandmates about her crush on Breana so that they would keep an eye on her behavior around her throughout the day, so while they were all watching the scene, they’d take turns to look at Ella and the poor job she was doing on trying to keep her reactions neutral.

After what felt like an hour but had only been half of one, Ben had wrapped up the production officially and everyone clapped to themselves and their hard work. Breana was called over by the costume and makeup department and after giving Matt a kiss on the cheek, she left him to get changed. The drummer spotted his friends and made his way to them with a satisfied smile.

But before he could say anything, Ella talked. “Helders, you did a good job… you lucky bitch.” she added that last bit sounding jealous, leaving the man confused.

Alex laughed, “She is a bit too jealous of how close you got with Breana, she’s got a slight crush on her.”

Nick snorted, “Slight? Not at all.”

Ella gasped, turning to Alex who was the only one who had caught her on her crush on Breana. “Alex Turner, you snitch!” she said through her teeth.

“C’mon you think no one would notice?” the singer said in defense.

Jamie aiding his friend and saying, “Yeah Ellie, you’ve been drooling.” The smirk on his face made her roll her eyes embarrassed.

Matt put an arm around Ella’s shoulders then, sighing in a fake defeated tone, “Well, who do I think I am stepping in the way of true love?”

She shrugged his arm off, “Piss off Helders.” she mumbled.

The drummer raised his eyebrows at her then, “You hang out with Alex for a bit and you start sounding British? I’m impressed.”

This time though, it was Alex who replied for her, “Helders… piss off, would ya’?”

Matt laughed, shaking his head and pointing towards Alex while looking at Jamie and Nick as if to say ‘get a load of this guy’. Jamie and Nick gave him knowing smiles, it was painfully obvious that he liked Ella and they were wondering where it would lead to.

Ella had excused herself and gone to help the production team pack everything back up. Keeping the chats with her coworkers to a minimum so she could finish sooner and so she could also avoid any talk about the band—well, Alex in particular.

Since it was a Monday and they had had quite a busy weekend, no one even suggested going out for drinks to celebrate, too tired to think about anything else other than their own beds. Ella had been too, but looking back to everything that had happened in just this weekend alone, had her filling up with a surge of energy that she was struggling to keep down.

Matt and Breana seemed especially affectionate after the production, talking to each other for the hour and a half it had taken for the Focus Creeps crew to fit everything back up on their bus.

Before everyone got to bidding each other farewell, Matt and Breana approached the directors and Ella.

“Ben, Aaron. Was just thinking here with Breana, wouldn’t it be fun if we went to Las Vegas for the day and filmed a bit there? We could get some good footage there.” He sounded very convincing, really trying to sell his idea. Not because he wanted to be filmed more, he’d rather be done with it already but he wanted to spend more time with Bre and Alex to have Ella’s presence for a little while longer too so if this idea would have them that, then so be it.

To Ella’s surprise, Aaron declined on the idea, “I’m tempted to say yes, but we need to go back and start editing and look over the footage just to see if we need to do any reshoots.”

Ben’s addition though was the one that gave her whiplash. “But Ella could go, and film you guys around like she did in the arcade. I know you all get along with her so I’m sure you wouldn’t mind just having her than the full crew.” His suggestion lingered in the air and everyone turned to look at her for an answer.

She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out of it. Matt looked at her encouragingly, Breana was resting her chin on his shoulder and kept nodding at her to incite her to say yes. Ella sighed and cleared her throat, “Uhm, yes of course I’d love to go.” her voice sounded hesitant as she thought of how on earth she’d go to Vegas if her car was back at the office. “I’d need to go back to the office to get my car though…”

Matt clicked his tongue at her which made her blush, feeling silly. But what had been silly about her comment? How else was she going to go to Las Vegas? In a taxi? That would be worth at least half of her monthly income.

“You’re going with us on the tour bus.” the drummer replied, making her freeze.

“Are you sure?” she had to ask one more time, just to give him the opportunity to take back the offer but he didn’t.

“I am sure.” Matt said confidently, “Bre is coming with us on the bus as well.”

An oh escaped her lips, “Okay, well, erm… Yes, that’s fine by me then.”

Breana let out an excited squeal that made a grin break out on her face. And a minute later she was getting a bag with the camera she’d used at the arcade and a couple more things she could need throughout the day in Vegas.

With her hand clutched on the backpack carrying the filming devices and accessories, and with her other little backpack she’d brought over for the weekend, she walked up to the Monkeys tour bus.

The couple of the hour were there waiting for her and Breana leaped forward to hug her and link her arm with hers to walk into the vehicle. Matt said she could drop her things inside wherever she wanted and that they had enough bunks for everyone so Ella needn’t to worry about anything so she sighed a bit in relief.

The relief only lasted a few seconds since when Matt opened the door to the stairs of the bus, she realized she’d be spending the day with the band and in their environment. With Alex and in his environment. Fuck.

The nerves she had were overpowered by the loud cheering she heard when Breana and her stepped into the main lounge area of the bus. And when Matt opened one of the cupboards on top of the makeshift kitchen sink, grabbed a silver Patron tequila bottle and set it on the table in front of the band, she was weirdly excited and scared for what was going to happen on this trip.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: Vegas babyyyyy!!!!! I love me a Vegas fanfic moment so it was a blessing Evil Twin mv has Vegas clips in it. That's coming to you guys in a fortnight heheh. Any ideas of what will happen?? I hope these two weeks fly by because I'm hurting not posting the next part right now. Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you liked it and I love hearing any and all of your thoughts so please feel free to share them with me! Have a lovely weekend everyone, see you soon! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @red---moon @kennedy-brooke @faveficz @indierockgirrl @ladydraculasthings @moonvr @unwantedlovergirl @eaglestar31

#Alex Turner #alex turner x reader #alex #turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fluff #alex turner blurb #alex turner drabble #alex turner one shot #alex turner imagine #alex turner x y/n #alex turner arctic monkeys #matt helders #nick omalley #jamie cook

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unlimitedhorsepower · 2 years

Text

since multiple people have wondered abt my funny ryanyurikeith office au can be found here. its just a google doc though.

the plot i havent detailed anywhere, in summary:

keith is the naive average protagonist who tries his best. he has awful dating luck and hasnt even gotten to a real date, and has been stood up by a lady named cis (more on her later).

ryan is the bad boy who transferred to the school, and yuri is the childhood friend. but who knew... ryan actually has a heart of gold despite his delinquent behaviour and yuri is the actual bad boy with his dark delinquency secret.

this except its in an office building and everyone is an adult. but its just a spoof of some high school romance tropes i could think of. also, everyone has way too much time to focus on interpersonal drama even if they all allegedly work fulltime jobs, etc.

so its perfect. its not exactly legal but through legal ways the culprit would just simply cover their tracks... shes only surprised yuri agreed to it so easily but apparently he is multifaceted...

the plotline beyond strange romance blunders and comedy bits is that someone is stealing the company assets and the three guys have to figure this out, assigned to this task by agnes.

she trusts yuri, who is also the general counsel and therefore well-suited to this task. she also trusts keith, because as the head accountant (they have in-house accounting), everything related to money has passed through him. plus he is their best employee.

ryan she does not trust but despite the rumours, due to him coming from a branch office, its impossible hes in any way related to it and even if keith is very nice and yuri is very cordial, neither seems very good at making excuses for mystery projects and the like, whereas ryan is a publicist so its his actual job, and also hes very loud and insufferable, and if he was not trustworthy yuri and keith would be very cross with him.

keith is just having fun and being himself. breasting boobily across the room to introduce himself to his new coworkers. he is going to adopt a 2nd dog (very important and deep. directly plot-related)

unbeknownst to agnes, yuri HATES corruption and rich people and corrupt rich people. he is wiretapping every single board members phone. be has access to half of their personal banking information. he has filed them away neatly too!

he is already halfway through solving the theft himself and now his greatest issue is that he cant let his coworkers know he is doing this, and that hes been doing this for a long time and publicly shaming them as the mysterious lunatic who sends neat press releases to the media (though ryan thinks that guys press releases are a bit lacking. clearly not a publicist aha. he could do better)

for no reason theyre going to not learn anything for the hypothetical 1000 chapters in my mind because the writer had to invent new misunderstandings to achieve the perfect romance “will they wont they” for no reason. theyre all going to think that the two others are dating for real at some point.

theyre going to take 500k words to remember they all have two hands despite having blatant carnal relations about twenty chapters ago.

then the series gets cancelled by gabriel brain inc. publicing company and its wrapped up in one chapter and its like thank god. fucking finally theyll get together for sure!

also the other people have various other side plotlines but this explanation is already way too intended but dont you worry. theres so much lore to this joke AU

#gabriels salaryman heroes

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asking-jude · 7 months

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My husband has been taking my tampons some gloves using socks screwdrivers wrenches pre roll containers tons of objects even our kids toys for his bum. And this has been a big issue as he is using things not normal some super big large creepy big even one shelf we have the poles are thick. Because I am upset about the porn masturbation how he calls me names puts me down he says he punishes himself that way but he seems to enjoy is and it won’t stop I don’t know what to do about the lies or threats to punch me or tell me to end my life or he hopes I get cancer or the fact he buys illegal substances then lied said he gave it away then had two bags of the stuff white powder coke. So like how do you deal with someone who lies, hides things, steals their own wives panties,likes literally steals them and hides them. Like he thinks I’m dumb. He even broke gear shift on car to use for his bum. Then I got punched when I tried to throw it away. He is now facing a fb for that but we have a kid he won’t let me leave with her. I have been pushed into walls thrown to the ground been in choke holds I am just not sure what to do anymore he also has a whole cabinent full of at least 200 alcohol bottles and we have only lived in our home three years so that’s excessive drinking. He won’t let me take my baby and stay elsewhere which would be safer for us both I feel stuck here. He wileighs 175 me 104 lost weight because of stress even my doctor said I am underweight. I used to be 120-125-130 healthier. His drug use and drinking and lying and doing weird crazy things is out of control he even took two of my prepaid cards and ripped chip out burned them and threw away the papers for them he took from my pockets and then to work and did that then took some of my shredded paper in the shredder to work and pooped in it and in jail he pooped on the walls. This man has major issues and is also abusive I feel like no one has dealt with someone to this extreme so what do I do how do I deal with this because I kept hoping he would change 4years later here we are and he is still doing odd weird disgusting things and keeps stealing from me and he also has thrown phones of mine and broke my laptop and the screen was not cheap to fix also broke our tv now our kid has nothing to watch except color and rub around the house and her few toys he hasn’t broke like he has broken his own daughters toys a chair and desk I got new at a store he broke within a week this is getting nuts. Then raised a fist at me though I have no proof of that and then he took my phone and deleted half the voice recording I have for proof. I am more concerned about my baby not being along with him I could leave but he won’t let me leave with my baby. She is 3. Any advice would be helpful thanks

Do you want free, fast mental health help? Visit askingjude.org.

Hey love,

Thank you for reaching out to Asking Jude. I am sorry that you are going through this difficult situation.

I would first recommend contacting the National Domestic Violence Hotline at this link: https://www.thehotline.org/plan-for-safety/. This organization can remove you and your baby from the household, and they can help you find housing once you have moved out. I would also recommend calling the police if you ever suspect your husband is going to be violent towards you or your baby; contacting the authorities is the best option for situations involving prolonged and violent domestic abuse.

You mentioned that his behavior has been consistent over the past few years, and that he is refusing to change. You should never feel trapped or obligated to endure such a horrific situation. Please understand that you are not alone, and that there are resources available to you. I have linked a website that contains some information about domestic violence support groups: https://www.alexandrahouse.org/support-groups/.

Speaking with other people who have endured similar situations could be healing. These kinds of groups provide a sense of community that could help you cope with the emotional trauma you’ve experienced.

I also wanted to provide a link for finding therapists near you: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapists. Talking with a mental health professional is an effective way to process your stress and anxiety, and they can provide coping strategies to help you work through your emotional trauma.

Please be safe and remember to always prioritize your mental health. Please do not hesitate to reach out to Asking Jude again if you have any further concerns. Reaching out in the first place took courage, and we will always be here for you. You also may consider reaching out to close family or friends for help. Having a strong support system while dealing with emotionally challenging situations like this is vital to the safety of you and your child.

You will get through this.

Stay strong,

Jordan

Ask a question here.

#ask #advice #mental health #dating advice #love advice #relationship advice #health advice #life advice

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Video

dailymotion

“Sentibubbler” summary? “Sentibubbler” salt?

Why not both at the same time?

Something a little experimental, though also somewhat reminiscent of some of my past videos. Calling it “summasalt” for now, based on the word “somersault” because this episode was an exercise of my patience.

It’s basically just me going through the episode with my usual episode summary, but salting along the way instead of making you guys read a wall of text without any images or clips or me making snarky comments.

(By the way, yes, I did in fact have caffeine before recording.)

script below for anyone who wants/needs it:

"Sentibubbler" begins with Marinette having food with the Cesaires and I already know this isn't real because Marinette is actually getting to interact with her best friend's family. That's only happened, like--when, two episodes of Season 2? [”Sapotis” and “Anansi”]

Marinette sees Trixx and points out how they're supposed to be a secret, and Alya asks why while calling Marinette "Ladybug." Marinette plays dumb but is told by Nino that everyone already knows her secret. Chloe is also there, chiding Marinette for her identity rule - it's not Marinette's rule but after "Reflekdoll" I've just gotten used to Marinette being blamed for things she didn't do - and Marinette goes to question Chloe's apperance when there's a knock on the balcony door. Alya invites Shadow Moth in and--[Shadow Moth has to duck to come inside]--huh, I thought Sole Crusher was seven episodes ago.

Anyway, now obviously, Marinette is just being ridiculous and overemotional as usual, because why would Marinette ever think that Alya would reveal any information to--["Feast"]--oh yeah, that's right.

Tikki doesn't transform Marinette and says that Marinette shouldn't have trusted Alya with her secret. Enter Chat Blanc, who says that they can be together now without any secrets. Not really sure what this episode is aiming for with the mixed message of "your identity rule sucks" but also "your fault for trusting someone instead of having a mental breakdown," but a’ight. Trixx also gets another dig in on Marinette for giving Alya the fox miraculous.

Marinette wakes up from her nightmare and panics, but Tikki reassures her that Alya is loyal. [”Chameleon”] Mm. Also, that kind of support might've been nice from Tikki literal seasons ago when Marinette could've used a confidant.

Wayzz - I swear, they've had eyelashes more often than not in this season - points out that Trixx is mischievous and Xuppu talks about Trixx being the cause of the Loch Ness monster rumors, which worries Marinette further. Marinette runs out in her pajamas and I can already predict that neither Tom nor Sabine are going to check on her later or care.

Marinette finds the Cesaires looking for something, their words vague enough for Marinette to think that they're talking about Trixx. Alya brushes Marinette off and tells her to help with looking instead of lecturing her.

Marlena makes a comment that reminds Marinette of her nightmare, only increasing Marinette's stress. A tarantula crawls up a ladle and Marinette freaks out when she sees it, which Marlena has a laugh at because Marinette's anxiety, fear, and panic is hilarious, guys!

This is my laughing face. [not a laughing face]

Nino exits, having been too afraid of the spider to leave the room, so Nora compares Marinette to him. Nino tries to play it cool, then changes the subject to point out Marinette's pajamas. Alya wonders aloud why Marinette showed up and Marinette tries to act casual, but Alya sees through it and states that she doesn't usually lose things when someone lends them to her.

I presume the exception is Marinette's trust. OH-HOOOOHHH, we'll get there.

Nora takes a jab at Alya for losing the spider and Marinette drags Alya away to talk. Nino tries to join but Alya states that it's between her and Marinette, which makes Nino sad.

Nino, does the phrase "guys' time" ring a bell by any chance?

Marinette is explaining her nightmare and is simply told to calm down by Alya, though Marinette is briefly startled by a phone ringing. Marinette puts together what she knows that Shadow Moth knows, including that Alya is Rena Rouge, adding on that Shadow Moth could steal the fox necklace if he figured out that Alya has it permanently. Alya reassures her that no one will ever know and Marinette states that this must include Chat Noir. Alya agrees and brings attention to the fanny pack around her waist, which Trixx has been hiding in, and Marinette has Trixx promise not to show up at the dining table like in her nightmare. Tikki tells Marinette that everything will be fine and Marinette admits that it was silly of her to worry, which it was! ...If you ignore all the anxiety, mental scarring, and constant pressure to be perfect or risk Paris lighting itself on fire, much like I presume they accidentally did with their original script for this episode.

Alya tells Marinette to trust her and also herself - I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Alya, thank you - then Alya loses her temper at the phone continuing to ring. She leaves to find an empty living room, then answers the phone only to hear Shadow Moth on the other line. Alya turns upon hearing Marinette scream to see that Marinette has been trapped in a bubble. Cue the reveal/return of the Bubbler, who is definitely Nino akumatized and not--like--a sentimonster, because the episode didn't spoil it at all with the title of Sentibub--

show, this is freaking embarrassing. Why even bother akumatizing someone when you can mold a sentimonster with the exact power you want?

At least they reveal it quickly, though that also means I have to live with the knowledge that Shadow Moth wINKED AT ALYA, NO.

Anyway, Shadow Moth tells Alya that he wants her to betray Ladybug. Marinette, meanwhile, is panicking over being unable to transform while in public, whereas Tikki remains calm and reassures her that Alya will figure something out and it's why Marinette gave Alya the fox miraculous in the first place.

Weird, I thought it was for the show to continuously validate Alya as a worthy choice for a confidant despite repeatedly covering up her sINS and so the show can push for more anxiety on Marinette's part while simultaneously not having to make a new hero model for Alya, which they would have to do if the realistic decision had been made to give Alya a different miraculous due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity as Rena Rouge.

Marinette texts Alya to inform her that the Bubbler is a sentimonster and so Rena can tell Chat not to use Cataclysm on him or the bubbles will burst due to the sentimonster's lack of control.

Hate to burst the show's bubble but Alya could literally see Nino up in the sky and they could see her; the bubbles are in viewing range. Did this even go through a quality check?

Alya goes to look at Marinette's text, but the phone is bubbled away by Sentibubbler. Marinette sees the phone floating by and panics, only to be reassured again to trust Alya and at this point I vaguely wondered if I was watching this episode on repeat. Tikki also adds that Alya has never let her down - [”Ladybug”] MMMM - and Marinette agrees, also certain that Chat Noir will show up soon.

Oh yeah, he exists. Oh no.

Cut to the Agreste mansion where Adrien is watching the news - dude, how is there never anything better on when you need to be told that there's an akuma? here, look, I'll show you [”Silencer” Lukabug clip] there, much better, see? - and it's pointed out that the bubbles are identical to the ones Bubbler had, yet Nino is in one of the bubbles. Adrien readies himself while Plagg is - for once - okay with leaving since his cheese isn't "edible" yet.

I feel like he should be a little more concerned about Marinette being in a bubble.

Meanwhile, Shadow Moth is explaining to Alya that Ladybug will come to give her the fox miraculous due to the bubbled people in the sky - plenty of other choices that aren't within breathing range of the obvious danger zone, but a'ight - and SentiBubbler will catch Ladybug. Alya brings up Chat Noir saving her but Shadow Moth states that she'll create an illusion of Ladybug and Rena to lure Chat Noir, who won't see Sentibubbler coming, at which point Rena will hand Shadow Moth her miraculous. He adds that her loved ones will only be returned once all three miraculouses are in his possession, though if she tries to warn the heroes then Sentibubbler will send the bubbles into space, too far for any hero to save them.

[clip of space power-ups] Hm.

Also, I would've just let her keep the miraculous as an extra bribe since he doesn't need the fox and she wouldn't have time to recharge anyway - at least to his knowledge - but that's just me.

Marinette is relieved that Alya still hasn't been captured--TIKKI, I KNOW, YOU'VE BEEN PARROTING THIS ALL EPISODE, I KNOW--but Marinette changes her tune when she sees Alya blindly calling out for Ladybug's help, unaware that Alya is buying time. Marinette laments the idea of transforming there and having using the rabbit to go back in time to reverse, as that's never a good thing (seconded), but gets the idea for Tikki to take her miraculous to someone else. Tikki rejects the idea, as the earrings won't go through the bubble, and Marinette realizes that Chat Noir is their only hope.

I mean, it was nice knowing them. Sure is interesting how Marinette has only been getting herself into these situations where she requires saving when the show needed to present Alya as a valid choice for a confidant.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir is leaving a message for Ladybug about the bubbles in the sky, saying that he'll wait for her; I already see where this is going and I don't like it.

Alya mutters to Trixx about how they need a plan to release Marinette. Through Alya Vision, we're shown Sentibubbler, a bowl of fruit, and the bathroom door. Alya tells Sentibubbler that she needs to go to the bathroom and - wow, we're really doing this, aren't we? - which Shadow Moth rejects. Shadow Moth is also on top of a building holding a coffee cup which honestly makes about as much sense as the rest of the episode, so whatever. Alya claims that she can't wait and that it'll be awkward for Ladybug to find her like that, which gets Shadow Moth to relent but also remind her of what's at stake if she tries anything. Alya states that she can't do anything without a miraculous anyway, then purposefully falls onto the table, concealing her long enough for her to transform and allowing an illusion of herself to go to the bathroom while she escapes. She detransforms in the twins' room and feeds Trixx with some grapes that she'd picked up.

Alya explains her plan to trick Shadow Moth and Sentibubbler since they don't know that she has a miraculous, though she also has to make sure that Chat won't ruin things. Rena then proceeds to call Chat Noir and claim that Ladybug wanted her to call him with her plan, but adds that it's a two-person plan and Chat himself isn't needed, so he needs to wait for further instructions. Chat demands that Ladybug call him to tell him herself, but Rena insists that she can't, as Ladybug is very busy. She warns him not to use Cataclysm if he sees the Bubbler, as he's a sentimonster, then promises to talk to him later before hanging up.

She uses Mirage again, making the Alya illusion reappear as well as creating a Ladybug. Chat Noir, infuriated at being left out, destroys part of a building with his baton. He then dismisses the action because Miraculous Ladybug will fix it.

Spoiler alert, it will, which is a very fascinating detail! I mean, I can't imagine another situation where a hero did something while there was an akuma going around and Miraculous Ladybug decided to help 'em out, but it just goes to show what happens when you're the writers' pet. Just look a little pitiful and they'll give you all the sympathy in the world.

By the way, didn't expect them to actually confirm my theory that Chat Noir does Chat Noir things because he knows that Miraculous Ladybug will fix it anyway, essentially allowing him to earn brownie points from Ladybug via sacrificing himself regardless of how it affects her mentally, yet here we are and I don't know whether to be sad, angry, disappointed, or a mixture of all three.

Chat Noir sees the Ladybug illusion jumping off and gives chase, refuses to stay where he is. Marinette, seeing that Rena Rouge's illusions are active, panics at the sight of Chat Noir, as the illusion will vanish if Chat touches it.

I like to imagine the immediate concern is the idea that Chat Noir will try to take Ladybug's hand while trying to flirt.

Anyway, Marinette flails inside the bubble in an attempt to reach Chat Noir, while illusion Alya and SentiBubbler get into position. Chat Noir watches what he perceives as Ladybug heading into the Cesaire house with Alya, but Marinette gets to him in order to tell him not to go anywhere. Chat complains about everyone telling him to stay put, but Marinette explains Rena's plan to him. Chat is skeptical of how she knows that, to which Marinette insists that she saw it from where she was. Chat Noir relents with a sigh and stays where he is.

SentiBubbler watches as the illusion of Alya and Ladybug talk to each other, Rena making it look like Ladybug is piecing together what happened and refusing to give Alya a miraculous ever again due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity. She claims that she'll find another holder and give them an even more powerful miraculous, which interests Shadow Moth and gets him to follow after the Ladybug illusion. Once Sentibubbler leaves as well, Chat sees this as his chance to stop the sentimonster, as the Ladybug illusion will vanish if it's touched. Marinette strokes his ego for the token love square moment of the episode, and Chat Noir fights SentiBubbler while Shadow Moth goes after the Ladybug illusion.

I'm noticing a real lack of tension in this episode. Once Alya has her plan, it's kind of a clean sweep from start to finish with no interference or unexpected roadblocks in the way. Even Shadow Moth following the Ladybug illusion goes fine, with Shadow Moth even punching a building thinking that Ladybug actually got away from him.

Dude, it's fine, Miraculous Ladybug will fix it, just put on your best sad face. Maybe Chat Noir gets it from you actually, is treatment from the writers a hereditary thing?

Sentibubbler and Chat Noir are still fighting. Shadow Moth shows up and Marinette tries to warn Chat, but Chat gets caught in a bubble and Marinette apologizes; she doesn't have anything to apologize for but after "Reflekdoll" I--wait I already did this.

Chat Noir uses Cataclysm to escape, only to get caught in another bubble. I'd just like to throw out there that this guy's a hero three seasons going and the love interest for the main character, yet his role in the episode has amounted to complaining about the authority of a hero Ladybug chose, throwing a property-destroying tantrum over being excluded, and wasting his power without a single thought which just got him captured again.

Chat, does the name "Syren" ring any bells by any chance? I'm just sayin', you could always quit. In fact, wasn't it you literally one episode ago saying that you understood if Ladybug couldn't always come get you? Then, after seeing the jump from "Glaciator" to "Frozer," I'm about as shocked as rubber.

Back with the competent one, Alya notes to Trixx that Rena Rouge can no longer be seen by Shadow Moth or else the jig is up. She transforms and texts Marinette to be ready, creating an illusion of Marinette that simultaneously hides the real version, allowing her to transform into Ladybug.

Chat Noir's bubble gets dragged down and Shadow Moth gets SentiBubbler to mute Chat Noir's bubble.

[clip from “Silencer” where Ladybug takes amusement in Chat being muted]

Ladybug uses Lucky Charm and receives a pot, her Lucky Vision spotting Shadow Moth's coffee cup, then SentiBubbler, then the tarantula trapped in a bubble. Ladybug deduces that the cup is the sentimonster's object, then pulls the horse miraculous out of her yoyo and unifies it with the ladybug--oh.

Oh my.

You know, it's times like this where I'm reminded that the show knows nothing about fashion... or girls... or good writing actually--there's just a lot of stuff they don't know.

Sentibubbler does a countdown, then starts sending the civilian bubbles up into the sky. Chat Noir is about to de-transform while PegaBug notices of Shadow Moth's two miraculous, up for grabbin'. She notes that she won't be able to catch everyone, so she forms a portal behind Shadow Moth and goes for the coffee cup first, thus putting her in control of SentiBubbler, who happily brings the bubbles back down at her command.

Shadow Moth erases SentiBubbler from existence though, causing everyone to fall, but Chat and PegaBug manage to catch them. PegaBug de-transforms and presents the Cesaires with the tarantula, which had been trapped inside the lucky charm. Ladybug and Chat Noir watch Shadow Moth escape and Ladybug laments that it could've been the end of Shadow Moth once and for all because it's not a Miraculous episode without Marinette being at fault or feeling guilty in some way! Chat Noir reassures her [*by “reassure,” I mean he might as well have said, “Well, you saved ME, so you did great!”] - wow, that's two token love square moments for the price of one episode, don't I feel spoiled - and Ladybug leaves to retrieve the tarantula's tank.

Rena Rouge is waiting for her and they hug, with Rena repeating that she doesn't lose something that someone gives her. Ladybug states that she never should've doubted the idea of giving Alya a miraculous and Imma just give you guys a counter real quick. [counter that shows that Tikki has complimented Alya four times, Alya has complimented herself/told Marinette to trust her thrice, and Marinette has said that she was wrong thrice]. Miraculous Ladybug is cast and everything returns to normal, with Alya explaining what she did and Marinette being relieved that Shadow Moth won't be going after her anymore. Alya confidently asks if she was smart and Marinette is happy to praise her, confirming it and stating that Alya is a real superhero and honestly? If the narrative wanted to marry Alya this badly, they should've just used some of the budget to buy a ring instead of projecting onto the other characters.

Then again, the apparent budget can't even afford a new hero model nor new akuma to a very noticeable degree, so I guess they're taking what they can get.

Alya praises Marinette as well for her work as PegaBug and they do a fistbump, thus ending the episode. There's also this ever-so-lovely post-episode scene with Gabriel and Nathalie where Gabriel laments the fact that Ladybug never makes mistakes which--I... has he even watched the series at all? Gabe, babe, Babriel Agreste, it's literally part of the show's formula that Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and she felt guilty like a minute ago over not yoinking your miraculouses when she had the chance, where have you been?

But, yeah, anyway, the episode.

Needless to say, not a fan. Like I said, the show seems so intent on immediately validating the choices they make with Alya in order to make her look like a better character. "Gang of Secrets" basically replaced her with someone different at the end of the episode, and the episode immediately afterwards in chronological order, "Mr. Pigeon 72," did everything it could to push Marinette out of her guardian position long enough for Alya to figure out the grimoire despite having zero onscreen experience with it, the episode even trapping Ladybug in a situation that forced Rena Rouge to come into play to validate that decision as well.

And now we have "SentiBubbler" here following immediately after "Optigami," desperate to reassure its audience that Alya is cool, smart, truthworthy, and that not needing to make a new model--sorry, I mean Alya continuing to have the fox--was a good decision. All the while, they continue pushing Alya's flaws under the rug [Note that it’s not even considered that Alya is even remotely at fault for Shadow Moth going after her specifically after her stunt in “Optigami” when no one else but Ladybug and Chat have ever given out a miraculous], hiding them instead of Alya actually acknowledging them, the only reason she did so in "Optigami" being the same as in "Gang of Secrets"; to make her look good while Marinette makes a big decision in their relationship.

The episode tries so hard to drill in this idea that Alya is a good friend who can be trusted, and I'm just not here for how much they try to hammer it in. Marinette's very real anxiety over Shadow Moth's power and ability to plan things is played off as her being silly instead of something to be concerned about, and instead of giving her a hug and trying to help her calm down - [clip from “Heart Hunter” of Luka hugging Marinette] I miss Luka - she's just told to trust and believe and hAVE fAiTh in Alya.

Shadow Moth is an adult; he has abilities that the teenage heroes don't. I'm not even saying that Marinette isn't overreacting [Basically, her concern about Shadow Moth is valid, especially after “Optigami” where her identity was almost found out], but she has anxiety and some obvious trauma over "Chat Blanc." I was already upset that Alya got a free pass to Marinette's identity, but the constant stressing over how much Marinette should trust her just doesn't affect me when I know Alya and I know the kind of stuff she's done that the show blatantly ignored in favor of pushing for her.

But okay, show, I'll give Alya the benefit of the doubt that she doesn't deserve. Let's say that she's turned a new leaf, and has become the reliable, trustworthy, and loyal partner that Marinette deserves. I'm sure that Alya has Marinette's back, and will never go behind said back in order to do something completely unsurprising and wholly indicative of the character I actually know her to be.

Especially not a mere three episodes later...

#MC's Videos #category: episode summaries #category: salt #video: critique #MC's Renders #render: persona #episode: Sentibubbler #((Definitely let me know what you guys think because I don't know if I should do this more or not.))#((Judging from what the response is will help me make a decision on it.))#((I know my editing could be a little better but my video editor has been physically fighting me lately.))#((Is there such a thing as TOO sassy/sarcastic?))#((idk if I'm actually funny or not so definitely lemme know if there was anything that particularly amused you guys))#((so I know in the future where your guys' sense of humor lies.))#((I don't really TRY to be funny I just do whatever comes to mind/is comfortable.))

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shijiujun · 3 years

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[END 2020] My Top 9 Danmei Novel Picks of the Year

As a part of my Round Up post for the year, here’s my pick of favourite danmei novels, that I’ve read! This is sort of an accompaniment to my previous danmei rec list over HERE, so there may be one or two overlaps, but I’ve read WAY MORE after that and am prepared to like give more options here

Note: There should be English translations for all via novel updates if you do a search of the English name, but I don’t think most of them are completed.

If you wanna see my full reading and queue list (it’s all in Chinese tho, for my own records), it’s here.

I’m leaving out the usual MXTX and Priest ones, because they’re already good and we all know that and there’re many carrds and posts dedicated to them.

I am also a sucker for fainting but smart men, and not too overly angsty/complicated storylines, just putting it out there first, which is why I haven’t read a lot of some of the ones on my queue list.

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1. 一剑霜寒 | A Sword of Frost by 语笑阑珊

Summary: Jing Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Jing Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Jing Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him, and they fall in LURVE pretty much like 10 chapters in.

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

My Thoughts: AN ABSOLUTE FAVE AND GEM, I’d say this is my favourite danmei novel ever. This is both hilarious and tears-inducing, to be honest, because for most of the novel YYF knows he doesn’t have long to live and so in the beginning he knows of his own feelings for JYR and JYR also shows him that he loves him, but he is unable to officially reciprocate because he knows his body is like weakening day by day. Halfway through the fear that he’s literally about to die as they are JUST about to find the cure is real, and damn I cried so much at that. Some highlights:

YYF falls asleep very easily in baths and everywhere actually, and pretty much within the first 10 chapters he gets used to JYR carrying him around (even naked from the bath, he’s like oh well, okay cool) and taking care of him, and JYR ALWAYS makes sure he is warm and toasty under his cape

YYF LOVESSSS RICHES, PLAYING THE ZITHER AND COOKING - He’s good at gathering the first one, but he FUCKING SUCKS AS THE LAST TWO - It’s so funny because he’s so beautiful and handsome right, and when he sits down at the zither everyone is like OH DAMN WHAT A DREAM- and then he plays, and everyone’s fantasies is shattered, he’s ABYSMAL at it, and the same goes for cooking

JYR doesn’t actually have the Blood Red Lingzhi, and throughout the first arc, he feels SO DAMN GUILTY because YYF even carved out a pendant that looks like what he thinks the herb looks like, and like carries it with him everywhere LMAO

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

2. 高能二维码 | High Energy QR Code by 青色羽翼

Summary: CEO Xing Ye’s brother Xing Shuo has just passed away at the age of 24, and nothing will make him believe that Xing Shuo died of natural causes despite autopsies and experts telling him that he really died simply of a heart failure. Xing Ye, who has impeccable memory, suddenly recalls the last time he saw Xing Shuo. His brother called out to him just before Xing Ye left for a business trip, and looked as if he had something to say, but ended up just wishing him a safe trip.

At that moment, there was a QR code on Xing Shuo’s phone, and the phone screen was strangely turned out towards Xing Ye, and Xing Ye, with his incredibly high IQ and memory, realizes that Xing Shuo wanted him to see the QR code. Quickly, he reproduces the QR code by pen and then scans it, and finds himself in a game world.

There he meets a narcissistic but also cute mirror which can speak, and finds out later that his name is Lu Ming Ze. Xing Ye’s mission is to clear the game missions in each round that is set by the black and white cubic game system, a system that continuously tempts its players into giving in to committing sins such as killing someone else, stealing and other things. He soon realizes that if he cannot stay on a path clear of these sins, he will never be able to triumph over the game system and return Lu Ming Ze back to his body in the real world.

At the same time, he gains new teammates and friends for life, and also finds out what role his brother played in this game.

My Thoughts: MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I LITERALLY JUST FINISHED READING THIS YESTERDAY, and honestly it’s one of my faves. I don’t like game systems very often (I’ve read three others so far, and this, and KOD are the only ones I’ve liked) but this one is *chef’s kiss*. So LMZ was born like with a really handsome face, like SUPER HANDSOME, and that’s why he’s like a harmless narcissist that cannot bear to look at ugly things LMAO, but he’s not spoilt, he makes sure that Xing Ye stays true to himself, and help him keep his head clear.

THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS FRICKIN NOVEL IS THAT LU MING ZE STAYS A MIRROR, LIKE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MIRRORS, in the first TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS. I KID YOU NOT. I FRICKIN KID YOU NOT. I swear I was sooo touched starved at the end of the novel, because they couldn’t even kiss?!! Like Xing Ye kisses the mirror, and then uses his thumbs to like hi-five mini LMZ in the mirror back, they can’t even hug. Do you know how empty my arms felt when I read this book?!! And my arms have never been filled!!!!!!

I really like this one because each game world is set up in such a brilliant way, but it’s not so unnecessarily complex that you literally don’t know what the fuck is going on. Xing Ye’s intelligence as he outmanoeuvres every single one of his enemies and convinces his would-be loyal teammates to trust him is so satisfying, world after world, victory after victory.

Humour is also absolutely ON POINT. A lot of it is centred on Xing Ye getting caught in the real world kissing his handheld mirror (LMZ) by LMZ’s parents (who cannot see him in the mirror) and LMZ’s parents going like ???!!!!!!!!

Available: Novel Online | Physical Novel is coming out on 10 Dec (freebies are, you guessed it, a mirror)

3. 妻为上 | The Wife is First by 绿野千鹤

Summary: This is set in a historical setting where men can marry other men, but it’s usually reserved for sons who were not borne by the official main first wife of the patriarch of the family, i.e. a son born by a concubine in a family may be forced to marry a man to keep him from being able to become the next family’s patriarch for example. This is because any family’s next leader needs to be able to have children with a wife who married in as a zheng shi (lawful wife), and not a ce shi (second wife) or any other concubines/mistresses etc. Most of these men who marry other men have to take them as their zheng shi and lawful spouse in a sense, and the same goes for the royal family.

The story starts with third prince Jing Shao, who was forced to marry Mu Han Zhang, a Marquis’ second son, by the Empress and Emperor, thereby officially and effectively cutting him out of the race for the throne. He’s mocked by the public as everyone knows what this means, and for the next 10 years, he neglects Mu Han Zhang, blaming him for his predicament, and deliberately showers his three other concubines with affection in front of him, but 10 years later, when Jing Shao is accused of treason, everyone leaves him except for Mu Han Zhang. They are chased to the edge of the cliff by soldiers, and Mu Han Zhang dies in his arms having taken an arrow meant for him earlier, and Jing Shao jumps off the cliff with his dead body, and promises that if there’s a next life, he will do everything Han Zhang says, and love him.

He wakes up immediately on the night of his marriage with Han Zhang, and realizes that he’s been given a second chance to make everything right. Han Zhang is definitely afraid of him, humiliated and angry when he first wakes up after how rough Jing Shao was with him earlier on their wedding night, and he has no memories of their past life. Jing Shao then sets to SHOWER HAN ZHANG with affection, love and basically everything, because he realized that this is the only person who stayed by his side until the end, and then he falls in love with Han Zhang properly this time, and also deals with every single person who maligned and schemed against him in his previous life, with Han Zhang by his side.

My Thoughts: OKAY BEFORE YALL GO INTO THE ‘WIFE’ terminology discourse and everything, in this case they do use the term ‘wife’ literally, and it’s a position, that while men frequently fall into (there are a lot of male ‘wives’ in this story), is also used to cut off like sons from inheriting the family and the fortune, and even titles. Male ‘wives’ aren’t looked down upon in this setting, in fact, Han Zhang gets a lot of leeway as one, and in his case he was also able to rise up the ranks to be an actual official later on, but the sad thing comes from sons who are most of the time forced to marry a male ‘wife’ for whatever reason, and then they are neglected as the son goes and find concubines, women he actually wants to sleep with - this is sad af yall. I don’t know, on one hand, yay for equality in marriage in this setting, but on the other hand like, damn, must you use same-sex marriage like that argh.

ANYWAY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES TOO?!!! I mean, especially when Jing Shao literally just goes into doting mode 200% and Han Zhang is totally like wtf why is he so nice to me is he scheming or something? And then he realizes that Jing Shao is really, really gentle towards him despite his reputation as a cruel, dark military commander, and Jing Shao always smiles at him. In any situation, especially in the beginning, when Han Zhang thought Jing Shao would not stand with him, Jing Shao literally just protects him no matter what, gives him everything, and cries, I love it.

Especially because Han Zhang is the son of a concubine and he was bullied a lot in the Mu family, and the official Lady Mu married him off to Jing Shao in hopes that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life, and I suppose that came true in the first life, but in the second, Han Zhang gets all the love, respect and support he never got before in this family with Jing Shao and that makes me WEEP.

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Kuaikan

4. 死亡万花筒 Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪

OOOH I intro-ed KOD here in my previous rec list. Still one of my faves and all-time re-reads, especially under the covers in the dark hehehe.

5. 你的距离 | Your Distance by 公子优

Summary: Ting Shuang is a student at a German university, and has this handsome professor Bai Chang Yi who he swears kind of hates him. He’s just broken up with his longtime boyfriend, and then goes on this dating app that matches a profile with him based on distance. The app can also show the matched profile’s distance from him once they enter the same area, and Ting Shuang starts chatting with this Chinese guy on the app, who he finds out later, is 36 years old, 187cm in height and wears glasses.

The guy is a little aloof and cool, very mature in his replies on the app, and somehow Bai Chang Yi finds out who he is later, as Ting Shuang starts complaining to him about his professor to Bai Chang Yi. Instead of getting angry and offended, BCY is pretty much amused and finds Ting Shuang cute. A few days later Ting Shuang finally realizes who it is he’s been texting, and after getting past the initial embarrassment and fear, they start dating for real, and they really fall in love!!!!!

My Thoughts: This is sweet and also hilarious af, if you need to like satisfy your sweet tooth, this is definitely one for you. It’s really funny because Bai Chang Yi runs in the same circles as Ting Shuang’s dad, who he’s estranged from because the dad doesn’t want to recognize a son who is gay, and then BCY convinces him later in the funniest of ways, and there’s a small subplot at the end in which Ting Shuang is pretty cool, and yep, short and sweet! BCY in the manhua is handsome af too guys ;-;

Available: Novel Online, Audio Drama on Maoer FM and Manhua on Bilibili,

6. 神木挠不尽 The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post by 绿野千鹤

Summary: Mo Tian Liao, a weapons forger and master who ruled the Demon Tribe, was hunted down and killed by other righteous sects in the region when he managed to forge an incredibly destructive weapon that could end the world. Before he died, he placed the only thing he loved, a white cat, into a hole in the tree behind him to protect it. The only thing he was grateful for was that he did not create a blood pact with the cat, Xiao Mao, because if he had done so, when he died, Xiao Mao would have died along with him as well.

Right before he dies, unbeknownst to him, Xiao Mao who is no simple demonic cat, wraps part of his consciousness around Mo Tian Liao, and MTL’s spirit ends up floating about for 300 years, until he finds a suitable time to return with a body made out of a special tree and its wood. The first thing he does, of course, is to find his white cat, but he’s poor, and the body he has isn’t powerful, so he joins Wo Yun Sect, the only sect that did not hunt him down that day hundreds of years ago.

There, he is chosen by Qing Tong shizun to be his direct disciple, much to the astonishment of other shizuns in the sect, and Qing Tong’s shixiongs. MTL has never seen a person as beautiful and gorgeous as his shizun, and if only he could find that cat (who’s actually his shizun, who recognizes him and protects him, even if MTL doesn’t actually need much protection).

My Thoughts: This was hilarious as well, and so romantic?!!! Qing Tong/Xiao Mao waited for MTL to come back, and the moment he came back, Qing Tong was there ready to grab him, and then before he went to sleep that night, Qing Tong thought to himself, “I’ve gotten my person back, I can sleep well now” and AHHHHH at this point they weren’t even like a couple yet? MTL ‘kidnapped’ Qing Tong when he was a young demon cat by accident because he likes pretty things (like his shizun lmao) and Qing Tong is attached to him because MTL never forced a blood pact on him, and gave him everything he wanted as a younger cat before MTL died. Gosh, a mirror in #2 and then a cat now with this one. XD

Available: Novel Online

7. 破云 | Breaking the Clouds by 淮上

Summary: Three years ago, Captain Jiang Ting and his team of the Narcotics division perished in an explosion due to a wrong call of his, and he returns three years later under a new identity ready to deal with the people who set him and his team up. He’s caught in what seems to be a simple murder case almost immediately and meets Yan Xie, who’s Vice Captain and in charge of this case. Yan Xie realizes who Jiang Ting is shortly after, and begins to unravel the huge mystery surrounding the events of three years ago, and falls in love with Jiang Ting along the way as well.

My Thoughts: Okay out of the FOUR crime/detective/thriller danmei novels I’ve read, the poyun and tunhai (below) series is the one that MIRRORS actual narcotics division and undercovers the best. It has the complexity and depth of the drugs/narcotics world, and both this one and its sequel focuses a lot on the position of an undercover and mole. I liked this one a lot because there are SOOOO many twists especially in the last arc, like you honestly won’t see any of them coming until it hits you? And Yan Xie is such a confident, rich-ass narcissist, and he keeps asking Jiang Ting if he can “just touch” him ONCE lmao, he’s thick-skinned af, but that’s why he and Jiang Ting are so compatible ;-;.

Available: Novel Online, Novel Print, Audio Drama and Manhua on Bilibili

8. 吞海 | Swallowing the Sea by 淮上

Summary: Sequel to Po Yun. Yu Wu is a young-looking new detective under Captain Bu Chong Hua’s narcotics team. Bu Chong Hua is Yan Xie’s cousin by actual relation, but brother in relationship because BCH’s parents died early and Yan Xie’s parents have been taking care of him mostly. He cannot stand Yu Wu, who seems to want to coast through at work and keep to a 9-5 work schedule.

It’s only after an altercation and Yu Wu dumping his nonchalant facade to snarl at BCH that he realizes that YW is actually more interesting and mysterious than he thought, and he begins to try to get close to him, understand him. It turns out that Yu Wu is a famous undercover who nearly died a year ago during an operation, and due to various reasons, he was assigned to BCH’s team by higher ups so he can peacefully live the rest of his life out there. However, his past catches up with him quickly, and his enemies turning up forces him to rely on BCH.

With BCH, Yu Wu’s resentment of having to be an undercover in the past and being so easily discarded by his team’s leaders, and of him being forced to be in the shadows while others can announce their achievements to the world, is slowly erased, because BCH sees him, knows him, and understands him more than anyone else.

My Thoughts: I actually liked this one better than the first one - Yu Wu is such a pouty, angry little thing?! And for good reason (there’s a bit of cannibalism in the book, not by choice when he was younger and in a poor village in Cambodia, where some militants forced survivors in the village to eat the meat of boiled corpses of other villagers, so YW is a vegetarian, like if he eats meat he gets really sick) and the twists here are even more amazing?! BCH really, really, devotes himself to YW the moment he realizes how much he likes him, doing a 180 degree turn. Instead of Yan Xie’s flamboyance, BCH is much steadier, grouchy, like an old uncle, but also looks at things even more clearly than Yan Xie does sometimes. Yu Wu is understandably bitter about what he had to go through, and BCH is the ONLY person who can calm him down, whom he listens to, which I LOVE. Some highlights:

Yu Wu grew up in a poor village and thus loves money, and he fights in underground betting rings to earn more money - The stash of hidden money he collects I think is half for his escape money, but if he happens to never need it, his dream is to donate the money to his village so they can open up a school there - ANYWAY because Yan Xie’s parents, and technically BCH’s ‘parents’ are soooooo rich right, Yan Xie’s mom shows her approval to her son-in-laws (Jiang Ting first, then Yu Wu), by giving them winter pants. It’s kind of like inside warmers, and usually meant for older ladies to wear LOLOL so Yu Wu was like staring at the pants when he finally got them and looked soooo reluctant until Jiang Ting told him it costs $6,000 AND HE WAS LIKE :333333 okie

He acts a lot like a kid?!! He likes eating like some snack but it’s really unhealthy for him, and BCH the mother hen keeps catching him in weird places like the toilet, where he’s hiding from BCH so he can eat his fave snack?! And the whole police station knows not to give YW what he wants in terms of snacks and smokes because once BCH finds out, he makes life very difficult for them HAHAHAHA

9. 穿成反派如何活命 | How to Survive as A Villain by 伊依以翼

Summary: Rich and handsome CEO Xiao Yu An finds out he has a terminal illness (cancer), and dies while he’s reading this online novel, where a king mistreats the crown prince from a neighbouring state which sent him over as hostage after losing a war, and ends up being killed by the crown prince years later (SVSSS much?!). He wakes up AS THE KING, and afraid of dying, he immediately goes about befriending the prince, Yan He Qing. Yan He Qing falls in love with Xiao Yu An while being his friend/hostage/bodyguard, and Xiao Yu An tries to avoid all the deaths he read in the book, while making sure Yan He Qing manages to find his three/four wives, including Xiao Yu An’s sister.

Of course, because Xiao Yu An showed him warmth and kindness, Yan He Qing ends up falling for him instead, and Xiao Yu An is an absolute oblivious idiot because he REALLY doesn’t realize until much later. Yan He Qing ends up declaring war on Xiao Yu An’s kingdom because he is duty bound to do so, but doesn’t hurt Xiao Yu An, wanting to keep him by his side, but YHQ’s scheming uncle drives a wedge between them, and XYA leaves, breaking YHQ’s heart.

They meet again a few years later, where XYA is training to be a physician in a small village and chances upon a severely injured YHQ. There, he realizes that it was all a misunderstanding, and that YHQ actually LIKES, LIKES him, but before they can enjoy this short period of happiness, disaster strikes again.

My Thoughts: THIS WAS really enjoyable, and with the manhua visuals, it is *chef’s kiss*. I think this transmigration version actually delved into the part where XYA is unable to change everything, and if he saves one person, someone else is destined to die, and that moral dilemma devastates him a lot. In this novel he actually transmigrates TWICE, once into the king’s body, and the second time into a neighbouring state’s prince/king’s body, who looks exactly like his modern self after. YHQ is real sweet to him istg, and I like that the epilogues are SUPER EXTENSIVE, including an arc where YHQ and XYA transmigrate back to the real world and everyone who died is alive and close to them, and gets their happy ending ;-;

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

#danmei rec list #stebeee recs #a sword of frost #your distance #swallowing the sea #breaking the clouds #kaleidoscope of death #High Energy QR Code #How to Survive as A Villain #The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

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aeempress · 3 years

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Apritello Express Evidences, part 1

Greetings, Apritello enthusiasts and attention! Here comes a loong post is written by totally nerd. You've been warned. Here we go.

The thing is that Apritello is a double-edged sword. The series shows us established friendship of these two, give us a lot of content with them. We can see development of relationship through interaction between the characters, their reaction about the situations they are put in. We can sense their synergy and bound through the show.

Donnie and April have incredible chemistry, and both options, brotp and otp seems fine to me.

But let me tell you why I ship them.

Apritello is the kind of pairings, which consists of small details, hints, that's hidden, but if you're sharp and attentive one, you will notice that. Apritello has a strong foundation: the best friends trope.

And from the very beginning, it works as planned.

When I start watching show, I could say that April and Donnie are best friends. It is worth noting that April is like an older sister to the other brothers, more of a sisterly figure than a friend, but with Donnie she behaves somewhat differently, namely, as best friend. Obviously, she sets him apart from his brothers, although girl tries to pay attention to all of them equally. And Donnie behaves as well.

Dee's battle shell designs for April needs as well as his. His shell transform into comfy spot for taking ride for April. Special and only for her. Because his bros are not supposed to use it (at least, he carries no one on his back), Donnie carries them by his techno-bó or his limbs.

This tiny detail shows his special treatment to her. April is a very, very special occasion to D. Don does care about her comfort, he accept the way she is. Donatello does not try to prevent her from participating in their affairs because he respects her decisions and is pleased that April can be shoulder to shoulder with him.

D is glad to be at her service.

Yeah, Dee's still playing cool, he has image to perform as tough and coolheaded guy. So Don doesn't show his intentions, interest and feeling to other people (he's tryin', but fails). Because his actions matter. They are always small, hidden, but meaningful.

April, in return, trusts Dee and depends on his tech, even knowing what his inventions are the opposite of success (usually).

Go on. Look at Donnie's facial expressions and body language when April is near.

Donnie seems more relaxed when she's around, happier. His emotional response is always different from his brothers ones.

Oh, and look, he wanted to be first to give her a high three.

They worry about each other. Look at Don. He does worry about her way more than his brothers. Yeah, they all want to protect her, but Donnie is more expressive.

Mayham has no particular sympathy for the brothers: he is afraid of Raph and behaves aggressively, he is indifferent to Leo and Mikey. Mayham immediately takes a liking to April. And then the details come back: he let Donnie touch his neck. The most vulnerable place for any living creation, for a second. Let him to study an important vial without any hesitation. Mayham depends on April trust for Donnie. When everything goes wrong for Don, the little doggie comes to his rescue, just as April would have done. Is the hint transparent enough?

We can see links with "A mystic library", wherе Donnie begins to look for solutions to save April's pet. Yes, this may seem like his next leap, "sit down, I'm smart, and now I'll solve all the problems, watch and learn," but Don says one phrase that opens up the veil of the second plan, what happens behind the scenes. "My illiteral colleagues and I was conducting a mustic research, with a life of the beloved pet, hanging in a bounce".

Strange wording, Donatello. Beloved pet? Not yours, as we can see. I can say, that everything in this sentence is true, but Donnie and Mayham has something more.

Continue. Next episode "Origami tsunami". Interactions are kept to a minimum, as April herself appears for a maximum of 5 minutes in the series itself. But devil is always in the details, dear friends.

When April was attacked and hung up, the only one who excitedly called out to her was Donny. Raph is furious that the thieves have escaped, Leo is frustrated that their plan has failed, and Mikey is worried about the salami.

Yeah, we didn't see his worries about her when she fell, because Donnie is on the mission and must be coolheaded turtle, and second, he's calm because now April life is safe and sound, out of the danger.

Dear passangers, Apritello Express arrives to the next station - episode "War and Pizza".

Bare facts:

1. April has Donnie's number on an emergency call.

2. "Anything for you"

3. Donnie is the reason why Alberto knows April's name.

No one calles April by her name (except for Donnie, while phone call, but Alberto wasn't nearby) it was "Captain O'Neil" by her chief, her badge seems blank. And yeah, you can say, that's just economy of budget, but I assure you: in the first episode we were shown the name of the delivery guy. The animators were not lazy bones and wrore "Stewart" on his badge. So if something isn't there, then it either shouldn't be there, or it really isn't, that's how this show works.

So, the reason explained in the episode. When Al has short circuit, parts of its new code flashed through its mind.

Info about April was in its memory, in its code. Alberto was a lame animatronic, and it seems somewhat outdated. I do really doubt about Alberto is being something smartass machine with complicated AI like Freddy's Pizza's ones. Quite questionable. Donatello fix Al's brain and wrote code, synchronize with his remote control. He put information about Cap O'Neil into animatronic's head. All this pictures are kind of massage: "You was created for birthday celebrations. You are machine, and there concepts of "life" and "birth". Do great party for this birthday kid and April won't be like this". Or, something like that.

So Alberto did - do a memorable party. And he do what his creator programmed him to do, but in his way.

4. In other words, Alberto was a tool to impress April. Don flaunts himself in front of her, stating how he did the upgrade while doing the upgrade, even though April is fully aware of his tech wizard. And his abilities supposed to help Cap O'Neil to finish the birthday party, so she will stay at her job, not fired. All thanks to Donnie and his upgrade Alberto. (Or not)

By the way, Donnie was the last to leave April in ruined "Alberto's". And it's not an isolated case, it is a pattern.

5. They understand each other without words.

First, Donny came at her at the speed of light. Second, she hadn't even finished speaking before Dee was taking Al apart. Third, their chaotic, well-coordinated work? Donnie was a distraction (although he wanted to just take a break from the battle or let Alberto's guard down, while April just knocked him out). Donnie and April are great team, and sometimes the DonniexApril team is much more precise, coordinated, and interdependent than the DonniexBrothers one.

D&A feel each other and anticipate each other's actions, their skills complement each other, creating an incredible synergy of their interaction. They act as a whole, while it's not always possible with his brothers, even though they're family and know each other the way more Donnie know April. And Dee hasn't trained with cap O'Neil.

Donatello didn't show his crush for April. No puppy, loving eyes, no lovey-dovey speeches, no planning schemes (at least, the audience don't see one) . He just want her attention, but stays cool and hidden. D is already her BFF, but still.

The same thing is claimed in 5B episode - Mascot Melee. Donnie has no problems with interaction with idol of his childhood - Atomic Lass. She'd put Leo in a stupor, but Donnie? He playfully challenges her to a dance duel. Yes, he adores this character, who may have become his measure of the attractiveness of others to Donatello, determined his type. But still, he's playing all cool and confident guy, he's really smooth with girls, so you will never see a puppy loving eyes from him. Only two things can betray him at this point: his voice and his body language. Remember, how's soft his voice became for Atomic Lass? Now I want you to remember the scene before, in turtle tank, when April sent guys a meme.

D is the first to respond to the message, despite the fact that Mikey is sitting closest to the screen. And the responding is a little too emotional for this situation, don't you think?

And this face of his. And he comments it. He likes her sense of humour.

The only difference between April and Atomic Lass is that the first one is a real girl who is a friend of their family, practically a member of it; and the other one is just a fictional character. It is easier to say about love for a fictional character, because it brings less problems for a teenager, especially when he is living with three brothers and a father who likes to tease as well. Donatello needs to be careful and outline the area of emotions he could show, so that he does not get hurt.

Now, dear passangers, we are returning to the previous episode, shall we?

Donnie presents to his brothers his precious Turtle tank, but she's gone, and it's really necessary to find out, who has taken her. And the first person to suspect is April.

Something is odd, don't you think? Yeah, Raphael has taken tyre for their "Midnight special", Leo claimed that Donnie's stuff is common, but they are D's beothers. It's natural for family to borrow(stole) stuff of each other. But this trend was not observed in April. She would never steal anything from Donnie, much less steal anything from him.

Actually, there is a good, logical and solid explanation here. April was number 1 in Donatello' suspect list, because he simply told her about Turtle tank. His brothers didn't know he were working at Moon buggy, except Mikey (Orange helps Dee get the vehicle from Repomantis), but they didn't know what exactly Donnie was working for. They didn't know he build the Turtle tank, he kept it a secret, to surprise his brothers. But April knew.

- Alright you! Where's our turtle tank?

- Hi, DONNIE. You have 9 seconds to say, why are you just broke my door.

- Someone's stole Donnie's turtle tank.

- Haha-ow, I see. As your best friend, you naturally suspect me.

- She gets it!

- Oh-ho, don't give me that! You're the only one could taken it!

The only one, because she knew about it.

As Splints said in this episode - "April is not a snitch"

Donatello does trust April and share with her both, sorrows and joys. But we are not shown this directly. We do not see the action itself, we do not see their calls and conversations on the phone late at night, we only see the consequence. We have no choice and take it as a given.

And the way she cooled him down? Fast, efficient, and Donnie seems to used to it. Moreover, she slapped everyone, but still, she throw Don out of window the last. However, why such a large time delay between him, being slapped and him, was throwing out of the window?

And my favourite scene. It was obvious that Donnie had taken the hardest hit (judging by his scream and the way he was putting his knuckles back in place). Don then claims that their inner circle is secure, Mikey tries to make amends for everyone, and April agrees, blowing them a kiss and closing the window. Cute and mean, isn't it? (You're cute! but mean! why do I always go for your type?! - ep. War and Pizza)

Nota bene: Donnie wouldn't apologize to April. Tough, not caring badass boy image, remember? Even to best friends. It's hard to him to express his feelings by using words, he cannot do it in proper way. But he has Mikey, who is so alike inner him. Michelangelo apologizes not only for himself, but for D mostly, because D starts suspected April.

Let's continue: the episode 8B: Hypno Part Deux

• Donnie put "Donnie's blocker" at April's phone to protect her.

It's common thing that your friend install some programs or apps on your device. But you will always ask your friend to do such a favour, and you will always know about what, when and where were installed on your phone.

And April didn't know Donnie had done something with her phone. It was a real surprise for her, to see blocker with "Donnie says no-no-no".

And you know, the interface of his app. The way he tell this current phrase. Donnie could put a huge banner "THE APP YOU WANT DOWNLOAD TO IS A REAL PIECE OF GARBAGE", as usual antiviruses do. But no, voice interface. It makes the app more personal and thoughtful. Because when Don made gifts for his brother, the program was voiced by a computer-generated female voice. Yes, the tank's interface is voiced by Donatello himself, but his voice sounds more like Google than the real Don. And, we talking about HIS BABEY, for a second. Bit still, the point remains.

• Also, Dale.

Dale is nerdy boy in purple, wow, how convenient for making a parallel with certain purple turtle.

But thing is, April doesn't like Dale. He's clingy, remora guy, who has a little obsession with April, even he's not harmful, still, such behaviour freaks girls (and not them only) out. Her classmate is usually tell her what April O'Neil is "his favourite person" and he loves her. There is little that is attractive about this behavior.

So, there is nothing new and unpredictable here that Dale was rejected. Because April didn't, doesn't and won't like him because of his lame personality and strange behaviour. Our girl in yellow do right thing: she clearly sets personal boundaries and does not allow any dubious personalities to invade them. So that's the reason she refuses to go on a date with him at the end. He's weird, obsessed, and she doesn't like him.

Donatello, as far as I concerned from different versions of TMNT, was always a little obsessive with some things. And, you know, putting a blocker inside your best friend's phone seems a little weird, because it's, in simple words, violation of privacy and personal space. And there are people who may regard this as stalking or sorta.

Yeah, for the most part, he gets away with it, not only because April's focus is in a different area, but also because their bond is stronger than April's with anyone else at school.

She has known him for years. Donnie is her best friend. I can't say that it's fine to her when Dee violates her personal space - her phone, but April can accept Donatello's personality in general.

And he does really have good intentions. Donnie installed this blocker, developed by himself only for one reason: to protect personal space April from fishy apps from nowhere, from being hacked and etc. Don knew her too well, how much she depends on stupid apps that will distract her. He also knew well, that he can't be with her 24/7 to fix problems with April's phone, so Dee put a part of himself to prevent any harm in the future.

And again, "Donnie's gifts"'s vibes. Donatello genuinely cared about April, because he wrote, coded, developed, designed, and dubbed it, turned on the database, and installed it all on April's phone. 'cause, you know, writing programs in general is a bit of a hassle, but writing an antivirus is much more difficult, because viruses are changing, and questionable applications are finding ways to bypass. Do you feel how much effort Dee put in for her?

But Donatello didn't mean to fix April, as he tried to do with his brothers. Purple turtle accepts this girl the way she is, and tries his best to play smoothly with April, by adjusting, not being passive aggressive jerk. It's his outstanding way to show his caring nature, soft side.

Remember, small but meaningful actions.

Maybe, Donnie also can foresee that April may be forced to download some suspicious program, but still, it work: he managed to prevent April being hypnotized, even if couldn't be physically with April at the this moment - Dee was working for Repo Mantis, building dog's paradise for Todd. That's why, by the way, Leo and Raph were dragged into this whole situation. Mayham would teleported literally anyone to help his hostess. Donnie just wasn't at the Lair at the moment.

And on this note, we'll take a break for now. Stay tuned, expect parsing of the series, there's a lot to discuss.

Part 2

Part 3

#rottmnt #rise of tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt donatello #hamato donatello #april o'neil #rise april #rottmnt april #aprilxdonnie #rottmnt apritello #apritello #lonnnnnnnng post #sorry not sorry #zero regrets #apritello express

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talesofarcadia78 · 3 years

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Sorceress of Arcadia || Gnome Your Enemy

Summary: Y/n Lake is Jim Lake's older sister. She discovers that she is sorceress and her brother is the Trollhunter. She and the Trollhunters go on adventures together, they save trolls and humans. Along the way, a friend becomes more than just a friend and discovers their secrets.

Warning: None

Word count: 5,784

Tags: @lunariasilver

Previous >> Wherefore Art Thou, Trollhunter? • Next >> Waka Chaka!

“For centuries, the troll and human worlds stood seperate and at peace, divided by bridges that acted as doorways between our two realms. But the Gumm-Gumms wanted to devour all of mankind. They were led by Gunmar ‘the Black’. The rest of trollkind fought against him, culminating in the great Battle of Killahead Bridge, the portal to Gunmar’s Darklands. After many moons, good triumphed over evil, and our great Trollhunter, Deya ‘the Deliverer’, lock Gunmar away, exiling him to the Darklands, and sealed the Killahead Bridge with the sacred amulet. After, we tore it apart, stone by stone. We left the old world in search for peace. We stowed away on a ship called the Mayflower, just a handful of us and some gnomes we’d brought along for companionship and nourishment. Finally, we arrived in a strange and exotic realm,” Blinky explained.

“New Jersey,”Aaarrrgghh commented.

“We kept walking. Eventually, we came across a new Heartstone, and we realised we had found a new home… under Arcadia,” Blinky finished as you heard Jim snoring.

Blinky groaned and walked over to Jim. He slammed the book in front of his face.

Jim startled up, "¡Lo siento, Señor Draal! ¡No me mates!"

You had done Spanish in middle school, so you knew what he had just said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Draal! Please don't kill me!"

You giggled at his outburst. Jim glared at you quickly before he turned his attention to Blinky.

"The training of troll history might seem like a minor duty, Master Jim, but--" Bliny started to explain but was cut off by Jim.

"Sorry, I pulled an all-nighter studying for my Spanish Comprehension exam and my brain is muy gooey. I don't know. I guess I thought if I'm facing Draal in a week, my training would be a little more… active" Jim yawned, standing up.

"Yeah, like, when is he going to learn Troll-kwondo? Or Rock-itsu?" Toby inquired.

"Well, Jim has to learn why he fights, so it's kinda important to learn this," you explained.

"Miss y/n is correct. Before one fights, Toby D., one must understand why one fights. For these precious early steps will decide whether a young Trollhunter will become a Deya ‘the Deliverer’…" Blinky explained.

"Or Unkar ‘the Unfortunate’," Aaarrrgghh added.

"Well, tomorrow, my Spanish exam is with Señor Uhl ‘the Unforgiving’. My main concern is for my immediate future," Jim informed Blinky.

"A-ha! But, to learn what will happen in the future, one must only look to the past," Blinky explained.

"Ugh!"

"I recommend A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore by the venerable Bedehilde. Volume one of 47," Blinky recommended.

"Wow, that's a big book," you commented as Blinky gave Jim the book.

Due to the book being so big, Jim struggled to hold it. He eventually got a good hold of the book. Jim placed his Spanish textbook on top of the other book.

"Okay, but if I don't pass the exam, I'm grounded and I can't be the Trollhunter. Sorry, Blinky, but the amulet chose me, and now I have two lives to keep up," Jim explained.

Then, Bagdwella came running in stopping in front of you, panting.

"Are you okay Bagdwella?" you asked, putting your hand on her shoulder.

She shook your hand off, not wanting your comfort.

"Oh, no. Is it the Heartstone?" Blinky panicked.

"No! No!" Bagdwella denied.

"Stalkling?" Aaarrrgghh asked.

"Is Gunmar out?" you also asked.

Jim gave you a look that said 'Who's Gunmar?". You just rolled your eyes in response. He really should've been paying attention to Blinky's lecture.

"Is Bular in Trollmarket?" Jim guessed.

"No! Gnome! Rogue gnome!" Bagdwella yelled, her voice echoing throughout the Forge.

The six of you walked to Bagdwella's shop to investigate what the matter was.

"Get your toasters here!" a random troll exclaimed.

"First, I couldn't find my monocle, then my collection of bed coils. Now something disappears every minute!" Bagdwella explained.

Suddenly, a gnome whizzes past, stealing an item and making Bagdwella fall over.

"Ah, yes. Gnome," Blinky said, lending his hand to Bagdwella, but she slaps his hand away and gets up herself.

"Oh, dirty little pests. Up to last week, the glue traps were working fine," Bagdwella said, showing you all a skeleton of a gnome.

Just before you could say something, the gnome snatches the skeleton, making everyone gasp.

"Fix it, Trollhunter!" she begged.

"Uh yeah, I'm really sorry about that. See you need a gnome-catcher, and I'm well, the Trollhunter, so--" Jim explained, but got cut off by Blinky.

"Oh no, Master Jim. The Trollhunter cannot refuse the call. And what better a call for you to train with than a pint-sized quarry?" he explained, coming up behind Jim.

"Blinky's right, Jim. This'll be a start to your Trollhunting. Plus, I think the task will be easy for you," you agreed.

You heard rapid footsteps around you, then a guitar play. You all try to look for where the sound was coming from. When you did, the gnome revealed itself. The gnome started to play his guitar once again and started to sing.

"He's trying to distract us! Hold tight to your valuables," Blinky warned.

"Well, I don't need to hold onto anything, I got nothing valuable," you chuckled.

"Yeah, right," Jim scoffed.

"Seriously, I don't have anything valuable. Unless if you consider my a hundred year old phone 'valuable'," you retorted.

"Okay, maybe you don't have anything valuable," Jim agreed.

Then the two of you see Toby going up to the gnome.

"Why? He can't be that bad," Toby chucked, clapping.

Before you knew it, the gnome had taken Toby's belt.

"Oh, no! My belt!" Toby cried. Then he sighed, "At least he didn't take my Nougat Nummy."

"Uh, Tobes, I don't think you should--" you warned Toby, as he took out his favourite chocolate out of his pocket, only to be taken by the gnome.

Toby gasped, "We need to catch that gnome."

All of you tried to catch the gnome, but he was way to fast for you. One time, Jim had caught him, but somehow, it escaped from his grasp. Jim then realised that his amulet got thieved.

"Oh no!" Blinky cried.

Jim and you chased after the gnome until it went behind a wardrobe. Aaarrrgghh pushes the wardrobe aside to reveal a small hole, which the gnome was probably hiding in.

"Hole," Aaarrrgghh stated.

"Yes, it appears the plot quite literally deepens," Blinky said, looking into the hole.

Jim slides his hands through the hole opening, hoping that his amulet would come back to him.

"Come back, come back. Shouldn't the amulet be coming back to me right now?" Jim questioned.

"Dolefully, that rule only applies if you've rejected it. When thieved, it's another story. If you had read A Brief Recapitulation you would have known that," Blinky explained.

"Technically, Jim didn't even have time to read the book, since you know, we're right now doing some Trollhunting business," you pointed out.

Jim gave you a quick smile, before Bagdwella spoke up.

"Some Trollhunter you are. Jim ‘the Baby Handed’.”

You glared at Bagdwella, as she snatched a bag of food from Toby.

I'd like to see how good you are at being the Trollhunter.

You turned your gaze over to Jim and Blinky.

"Master Jim, press on. This is not the moniker you want," Blinky said.

"What else can I do? I can't fit in that hole," Jim shrugged.

"Hmm, currently," Blinky thought.

"Bad idea," Aaarrrgghh warned.

"What's a bad idea?" you asked, but no one answered the question.

"No Trollhunter has ever lost his amulet. We'll need time to procure the Furgolator," Blinky argued.

"Uh, the Furgolator?" Jim doubted.

"Uh, don't you worry about anything, Master Jim. tend to your studies. We'll watch over the hole. Tomorrow, you'll return refreshed to deal with this, uh... little problem," Blinky said, and the three of us headed to the surface.

Toby and Jim headed to Arcadia Oaks High, while you headed the opposite direction to Arcadia Oaks Academy.

Once you had gotten your books, Izzy and Rachael both ran up to you.

"Y/n! Guess what just happened!" Rachael exclaimed.

"Uhh, you won the state lottery?" you replied.

"Nope, way better," Rachael denied.

"What can be better then winning the state lottery?" you asked, getting a bit curious.

"I got into the state math comp!" Racheal squealed.

"Wow! That's great, Rachael. So, when are you going?" you asked.

"Tomorrow, that's why I was texting you the other day, I wanted to hang out with my two besties before I headed off to the competition," Rachael replied.

"Oh, sorry about that, I was... busy," you said.

"Well, are you free after school?" Izzy asked.

You thought about it, you didn't need to go to Trollmarket or have any other plans.

"Yeah, I'm free," you nodded.

"Great! We'll meet at Sam's at 4, then we'll go from there," Rachael said.

You nodded. Suddenly the bell rang, making you jump a little.

"See you guys at lunch," you called, as you ran to your first class.

As you took a seat, you noticed that everyone was focused on the board. You glanced at the board to see everyone's name with a bunch of classes next to them. You searched for your name and saw your classes. You had chemistry, biology, calculus, literature, geography and history as your subjects for the next semester. Then, you noticed a certain name that you had not been expecting to have the same classes as you, well except biology. Tyler. You heard someone sit down beside you.

"Hey, y/n," it spoke.

You turned to see none other than, Tyler.

"Hi, Tyler," you smiled.

"I guess we have almost the same classes. What a coincidence, right?" Tyler chuckled.

"Ha, yeah," you commented.

"Hey, wanna sit next to each other in classes, you know since you'll be the only person I know," Tyler requested.

You hesitated. You didn't know Tyler that well, and seeing his anger the other day in the cafeteria, you weren't so sure.

Then you were saved by the bell.

"I'll see you in class Tyler, and I'll think about it," you said, rushing out of class.

You headed towards the lower office, since you needed your new timetable. As you were walking to the lower office you bumped into a certain emo-boy.

"Sorry," the two of you apologised.

You looked up at the person, to see Douxie.

"Oh, hey, Douxie!" you smiled.

"Hey, y/n! Going to get your new timetable?" Douxie asked.

"Yep," you responded.

The two of you got your new timetable. The two of you looked at each other's timetable, wondering if you had any classes with each other.

"Hey, we have mostly the same class, except instead of geography, I have economics," Douxie pointed out.

"Cool!" you said.

"Wanna head to class together?" he asked

You nodded and the two of you headed to class.

When you entered the classroom, you noticed two seats at the back of classroom weren't occupied so you nudged Douxie. Once you had gotten his attention, you pointed to the seat and headed there.

Once the two of you had taken a seat, you saw Tyler walking in. You groaned.

"You okay, love?" Douxie asked.

"Tyler wants me to it next to him in every class. It's a coincidence that he has all the same classes as me," you explained.

"Ahh. Understood. You can sit with me in every class then, well, except for geography of course. You'll have to deal with him then, but other than that, you can always sit with me," Douxie offered.

"Thank you," you grinned.

Soon after, Tyler started looking around the room. When his eyes fell on you, you were in a deep conversation with Douxie.

"Wait, so your actual name is Hisirdoux?" you asked.

"Yeah, I have no idea why, but it's my name!" Douxie nodded.

"It sounds very 12th century," you commented.

"I know right!" Douxie exclaimed.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Tyler fuming at Douxie.

Huh? Why does he look mad at Douxie?

You thought he was going to come up to Douxie and start arguing with him, but instead he took a seat at the front of the class, right in front of the teacher's desk.

After a few minutes, your class started.

You had a hard time figuring out what the teacher was saying, since she had a very quite voice, luckily, she was only a substitute. The actual teacher was just away on leave because he was sick.

After an hour, the bell rang to indicate next class, which was calculus, great. You sucked at calculus and science. You and Douxie headed together to calculus, avoiding Tyler.

The next two lessons kinda sucked, they all just introduced your new teacher's and what you're going to be learning for the next semester. Luckily for history, you had an assignment not an exam.

Soon, the bell rang for lunch.

While, you and Douxie were walking to the cafeteria, you were suddenly surrounded by all of Douxie's friends. Well, band mates.

"Hey, Douxie! How'd all your new classes go so far?" Henry asked.

"They went good. I found a friend that's doing the same classes as me," Douxie replied, gesturing towards you.

"Hey," you shyly waved.

"Wait, you're the girl that Douxie brought back stage at our last concert, right? Y/n, was it?" Jason recognised.

"Yep, that's me," you confirmed.

"Well, we're going over to the band room to practice, wanna come?" Jason asked both of you.

"Sure, why not. I'll just grab some food," Douxie replied. "Y/n, I'll grab you some food as well, you head over to the band room with the other's."

"Oh, no. I don't want to disturb you guys with your practice, I'll find my other friends," you denied.

"You're not going to disturb us, in fact, you can give us some feedback!" Jack said.

"But, I promised my friends that I'll sit with them today," you mentioned.

"What about, you and Douxie find your friends, and bring them to the band room? We really need someone else's point of view of our music," Jason suggested.

You thought about it for a moment.

Izzy wanted to meet the Ash Dispersal Pattern for a while now, and Rachael, well, she can make some new friends, since she doesn't really hang out with anyone else other than you and Izzy.

"Okay," you agreed.

"Great!" Jason exclaimed, walking away with the rest of the band.

You and Douxie saw your two best friends in the line to get food.

"Yo y/n! Where were you?" Izzy asked as she saw you going up to them.

"Just talking with Douxie's band. Want to go meet them? They're in the band room. They said that you guys can come," you offered.

"Oh, you had me at 'Douxie's band'," Izzy grinned.

"Just let us grab some food first, "Douxie said, walking into line, pulling you along.

After grabbing some food, you all walked over to the band room, getting welcomed by a lot of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Douxie asked, grabbing a seat for you and your friends before grabbing one for himself.

"Nothing, it's an inside joke. You won't understand," Henry said.

"Okay..." Douxie nodded, getting a bit suspicious, sitting down. "Anyways, meet Rachael and Izzy."

Rachael shyly waved, while on the other hand, Izzy waved very energetically. You instantly saw Jason blush when Rachael waved at him while she also blushed.

Who knew, Rachael had charm. She's usually not the type to get involved with the boys and crushes that much.

"Looks like we have a fan," Jack pointed out, looking at Izzy energetically waving at them.

"I'm your biggest fan! I go to every single one of your concerts!" Izzy beamed. "Well, I couldn't make it to your concert last week. But other than that, I've been to every single one!"

You, Rachael and the entire band laughed at her enthusiasm.

After getting introduced to one another and getting autograph from every single ban member, they started to practice.

"Wow, Jason is good," Rachael commented.

"Of course you'd say that. You have a crush on him," you teased.

"I do not!" she retorted.

"Sure," you and Izzy smirked.

After about 10 minutes, you heard the door open. You glanced towards the door to see Tyler.

"Hey guys!" Tyler waved.

"Hey, Tyler! Wanna practice?" Jack said.

"Jack, I don't see any of our guitarists away right now. There's no point," Douxie claimed.

"Well, Douxie, I see you're getting a bit tired of playing. Tyler can fill you in while you rest," Jack said.

"I'm not tired," Douxie stated.

"Uh, Doux, not to be rude, but you're kinda missing some chords and not keeping up with the beat," Henry commented.

"What?! I'm not missing any chords! You guys are just going faster than you're meant to!" Douxie exclaimed.

"And you're getting a bit short tempered," Henry added under his breath, but you all heard it.

"I am not getting short tempered!" Douxie fumed.

"Yeah, dude, take a pill and chill. Y/n, can you take Douxie for some fresh air?"Jason requested, snatching the guitar off of Douxie and handing it to Tyler.

"Sure," you nodded, lightly pushing Douxie out the room.

As you closed the door, Douxie started walking down the hallway. You ran up to him and made him slow down.

"Douxie, are you okay?" you asked.

"I'm fine. Those guys over there are just going faster," Douxie grumbled.

"They're not, Doux. You just need to take a break," you advised.

"I don't need to take a break, they need to take a break," Douxie scoffed.

"Doux, this is not you. This is not the person I have met and befriended with," you said.

"Well, this is me! Get used to it!" Douxie yelled, stopping in his tracks.

Your eyes widened at the tone of his voice, making you step back away from him.

Douxie's eyes widened at what he just said to you.

"I-I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean that at all. I've just been so stressed out lately. I just exploded," he apologised.

You smiled at him, putting your hand on his shoulder, "It's okay. Everyone has those days. You know you can talk to me about it you know?"

"Thank you, y/n. It means a lot," Douxie smiled.

"We should probably head back," you reminded.

"Yeah," he agreed.

The two of you headed back into the band room, getting greeted to everyone just chilling.

"Hey, y/n, Douxie," everyone said.

You noticed that Tyler had left.

"Is Douxie...?" Jack questioned.

You nodded and took a seat next to Izzy.

"What happened to band practice?" Douxie asked.

"Stopped a few minutes ago. We were discussing on hanging out this afternoon," Izzy informed. "Y/n's already coming, what about you Hisirdoux?"

"I'm free. And how do you know my actual name?" he inquired.

"Your mates here told us," Izzy explained.

"We're meeting at Sam's at 4," Henry told Douxie.

Soon after, the bell rang for class.

After three hours, you headed to your bike and peddled home.

You finished up some chores and waved goodbye to your brother and headed off to Sam's.

Once you met with the others, you all headed over to Lucia to watch Danger House 2: More House, More Danger. You were going to sit with Izzy and Rachael but there were seat numbers, so you didn't have much of a choice. You ended up sitting at the end of the row next to Douxie. The two of you shared popcorn while watching the movie. At times, you didn't want to see a scene, so you hid your face in Douxie's shoulder. While you weren't looking, the others snuck some photos of you two, especially when you hid you face in his shoulder.

After the movie, all of you headed across town to The Bluff to watch the sunset. Everyone hated the bike ride up the steep hill, but surprisingly, you didn't. It was kinda easy for you.

Must be the advantage of running from danger.

In the end, the ride up the hill was worth it, since you all got to see a beautiful sunset afterwards. As everyone was enjoying the sunset, taking pictures and goofing around, you saw Douxie leaning against a rock, staring at his phone. You strolled over to him and leaned against the rock with him.

"You know, you can't enjoy the sunset without, y'know, looking at it," you told him.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I know. I'm just looking at something," he mumbled, not taking his eyes of his phone.

You peeked over his shoulder to see what exactly he was looking at.

He was looking at his email, more specifically, emails about bills. The numbers weren't huge, but if you're Douxie that worked 2 jobs and hardly got tipped, that would be a lot.

"You worried about the bills?" you whispered, making sure no one heard.

He nodded. "I don't know how I'm going to pay all this. Thankfully, I requested the companies to give me more time to pay them. I got a few extra months, but I don't think that'll be enough."

You nodded, trying to think a way you could help your blue-tipped friend.

"Do you have any extra rooms in your apartment?" you asked.

"No, but I do have a lot of space in the bedroom. I’ve got two double beds that have been lying around," he explained.

"What if you get a roomie? Like they would give you rent every week, while you provide them shelter, food, etc.," you suggested.

"That's a great idea!" he beamed. "Thanks! I'll start to work on your plan tomorrow!"

"I'll come to help," you offered.

"Oh no. I don't want you putting time aside for me," he denied.

"I'm not, I have a lot of free time. And even if I did, it would be worth it. Helping a friend is always worth my time," you said.

"Okay. I'll text you my address and tell you what time you can come over. Probably on the weekend, but I'll just text you," he explained.

You nodded.

"Now, let's enjoy the view."

After the sun had set, you all rode over to Stuart's Taco Truck. Jason, Jack, and Rachael all went to get the burritos, while Douxie, Izzy and you chatted, waiting for your friends.

"So, y/n, have you been thinking about what you'll be doing after graduation?" Izzy asked.

"Uh, I don’t know. Maybe go to college, like every person does?" you guessed.

"Wow, I'm just gonna get a job and do that, it's just easier," Izzy said.

"Yeah. You never wanted to go to college," you agreed.

"What are you going to do, Douxie?" Izzy asked, turning her focus onto him.

"Well, I'll probably pursue my dreams of being a guitarist while having a job," Douxie replied.

"That's cool," Izzy commented.

Soon after, your burritos arrived and all of you dug in.

Once you had finished your burrito, you checked your watch to see it was starting to get late.

"Okay guys, I'm going to head back, it's getting late. I'll see you all tomorrow," you declared.

"Wait, y/n, I'll come with!" Douxie added.

You waited for Douxie to throw his rubbish in the trash and peddled your way home with him.

Before the two of you went your separate ways, Douxie thanked you for your suggestion.

"Thanks for your suggestion before, y/n."

"It's no problem."

"Well, I'll see you soon, love," he grinned, giving you a flirtatious wink along with a two-finger salute.

You blushed and returned the two-finger salute, riding your separate ways.

Once you got home, you saw Jim was finishing up washing the dishes.

"Hey, Jimbo!" you sang.

"Hey, y/n!" Jim called. "How was your hang out?"

"Good, but I'm beat. I'm heading to bed. ‘Night," you yawned and trudged to your room.

"‘Night," Jim called.

The next day after school, you, Jim and Toby headed down to Trollmarket. You were glad to take a break from everyone. Today was just not your day. Everyone from the hangout had uploaded to social media of the photos of you hiding your face in Douxie's shoulder and the both of you sharing popcorn. The post made you attract the crowd at lunch. People bombarded you with questions related to Douxie. Most of them consisted of 'Are you two together?', 'Are you a couple?' and 'How long has it been?' Luckily, Douxie came in time and saved you from the crowd, again.

You approached Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and something covered with a piece of cloth.

"Remember when I told you all Trollhunters must start small?" Blinky asks, revealing the Furgolator.

"Full disclosure, I'm a little worried how I let you talk me into this," Jim doubted.

"A 'little worried'? I'm full on concerned!" you gulped.

Blinky turns on the Furgolator, making the doors open up.

"Still bad idea," Aaarrrgghh warned.

Jim steps inside and the doors start to close, "Wait a minute. So, how does me going into this thing help me get a gnome out of a hole?"

"If a gnome won't come out, the Trollhunter must go in," Blinky informed.

"Wait, what?" Jim questioned.

"I think Blinky plans to make you small enough to fit inside that hole," you hypothesised.

"Yeah, right," Jim scoffed.

"Exactly! We often use the Furgolator to compress minerals. And now for the anthracite!" Blinky agreed.

"See?" you teased.

Jim rolled his eyes playfully, but you saw the fear in his eyes.

"But you've done this a few times on flesh and bone, right? Right?" Jim yelped.

Blinky placed the rock inside a compartment, "Not exactly." Then the machine started up, "But I'm not concerned."

"Well, that's because you are not the one trapped in this thing," Jim complained.

"Nothing to worry about, Master Jim. We work best under pressure," Blinky shouts.

"I can't see anything!" Jim coughs. "Why is there so much smoke?"

The machine started to make weird sounds. You and Toby ran to the Furgolator, trying to get it open.

"Come on, you guys gotta get him out of there!" Toby cried.

Blinky rushed over to help us, "Don't just stand there, Aaarrrgghh!"

Aaarrrgghh comes over and pulls the doors open.

"Looks like it didn't work. Hope you have a plan B," Jim began, but then realised he had shrunk.

"On the contrary," Blinky said.

"You sure we need a plan B? I think plan A worked fine," you chuckled.

"He's like an action figure!" Toby gushed.

"The Furgolator functioned perfectly!" Blinky laughed.

He picked up tiny Jim, holding him in his palm. Jim looks at his tiny figure. You quickly took out your phone and took a photo of your little brother. Jim groaned, not liking you taking photos of himself.

You all made your way to the hole that the gnome had escaped into. Blinky placed Jim just outside of the hole.

"Real subtle. ‘We've got to start small. Deal with the little problem.’ This is a huge problem! I can't be shrunk! I have exams to take! I have sinks to reach!" Jim raged.

"You have a gnome to catch. Now, onward, Master Jim, and fetch your destiny!' Blinky reminded.

Toby grabs a pencil and hands it Jim to use as a sword, "Your sword, my liege."

Jim pokes the pencil on Toby's palm, earning a yelp from him. He attempts to walk into the hole, but he falls down, earning a giggle from you. But he eventually got into the hole.

"Oh, and one last thing to know when dealing with a gnome, Master Jim, and this is of dire importance: Do not touch its hat!" Blinky forewarned.

"Of course. It's right there in A Brief Recapitulation," Jim taunted.

"You remember!"

"Of course not! Nothing in this world makes sense!" Jim yelled.

You backed away from the hole to see Vendel walk pass.

"Miss y/n, you should go and continue your training with Vendel. We will handle things here," Blinky advised.

"Are you sure?" you asked.

"Completely."

You nodded and jogged over to Vendel.

"Hello, Master Vendel. Do you have time to teach me how to make objects move?" you inquired.

"Hello, Miss Lake. I am not known to any troll as 'Master', but it sounds good coming from you. And yes, I can instruct you how to make objects move," Vendel said.

The two of you walked over to the Heartstone and began your lesson.

Soon after, you could move objects easily, with just a quick gesture of your hand or finger.

"Thank you, Master Vendel!" you beamed.

"Your welcome. Next time you come, with some spare time, I will teach you something new," Vendel replied.

You nodded and jogged back over to the hole to see Toby backing away from the hole.

"Why hasn't he come out?" Toby asked, his voice full of worry.

"What happened?" you asked.

Aaarrrgghh explained to you what happened to your brother.

You all waited for Jim to come out safe and sound. You then saw the gnome walking out with Jim following behind him, wearing the gnome's hat.

'You summoned the armour and caught the gnome! Well played, Master Jim!" Blinky beamed.

You all clapped at his heroism.

"Thank you, thank you. I don't want to forget the little people," Jim smiled.

"Expedient and-" Blinky started.

"And good humoured," you finished.

"Oh my hero!" Bagdwella praised.

Toby captures the gnome into a bag and sets aside.

"And what about this shrinking stuff? When does it wear off?" Jim asked.

"Don't worry. Sleep it off. By morning, you'll be as good as new. And how you have earned it! Jim "the Gnome Slayer!" Blinky reassured.

"He was so young. There was so much music left in him," Toby commented, playing the little guitar.

You ignored him.

"All that is left is for you to take care of it," Blinky instructed.

"Wait, what? Take care of it?" Jim puzzled.

"Rule number two," Aaarrrgghh reminded.

"‘Always finish the fight’," Blinky quoted.

"And by finish... " you began.

"Deaden. End. Le coup de grâce," Blinky finished.

Aaarrrgghh moved his thumb across his throat, indicating to kill the poor gnome.

You and Jim shared worried glances. Neither of you were killers, but you had to follow the rules. But, it was up to Jim, since he was the Trollhunter.

You headed home, while Jim stayed at Toby's house.

As you opened the door, you saw your mom unpacking food.

"Hey, Mom. What are you doing?" you asked.

"Just unpacking the food I got. As you already know, I'm not a good cook, so I thought some takeaway would be good," she explained.

Soon, the two of you sat down and dug into your food.

"Y/n, where's Jim?" your mom asked.

"He's staying at Toby's place," you answered.

"Well, since he's not here, want to have some girl time?" she asked.

"I'd love to," you replied.

Once you two had finished dinner, the two of you sat down and binged watch watched Mistrial & Error together.

After a dozen or so episodes, the two of you started to play truth or dare.

"Okay, y/n… Truth or dare?" Mom asked.

"Truth," you answered.

"Hmm... so, that friend of yours, Douxie. Is he just a friend or...?" Mom questioned.

"Douxie?! He's... uh... um..." you stammered.

"And my question is answered," Mom cheered.

"What?! He's not. Uhh..." you cried.

From that, you and your Mom started to talk about your love life, more specifically, Douxie.

"I saw on one of your friends posts that you were hiding behind him during your little movie night," she said.

"It was a scary movie! Some scenes were just absolutely terrifying, so of course I’d hide behind him. That's normal," you defended.

"You could've just shut your eyes," she suggested.

"Um... well... uh..." you stuttered.

"I guess my suspicions are true," she smirked.

"Mom!" you cried.

"Okay, okay. We'll have this conversation another day. I'm tired, so I'm heading to bed, kiddo," she said, getting up from the couch.

"Me too. I need to go to school," you agreed, following suit.

Next morning, you woke up to the sound of clattering downstairs. You got up and got dressed into a t-shirt, pair of jeans and sneakers and rushed downstairs to see what the commotion was about. You found the source of the commotion, your mom.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"Nothing for you to worry about, kiddo," she said.

You shrugged and realised that there was nothing for you to eat for breakfast.

"Sorry, y/n. No breakfast. Maybe grab something in town," she suggested.

"Will do. I'll head out, love you!" you called and rushed out your door, hastily grabbing your bag on your way out.

You made your way to Toby's house, checking on Jim. You knocked on the Domzalski's door. It opened to reveal Toby.

"Hey, Tobes!" you grinned.

"Hey, y/n! Checking in on Jim?" he guessed.

You nodded and you followed him to his room. On the way, Toby's Nana forced you to eat a blueberry muffin.

As soon as you entered his room, you noticed Jim's absence. But then you realised he was in a doll house.

Toby opened the doll house to reveal a startled Jim.

"What's wrong, Tiny Jim? Did you not sleep well in Nana's dollhouse?" Toby asked.

"Why am I still small, guys?" Jim whined.

"Maybe the stuff works different on trolls than it does on humans?" you theorised.

"Oh, my gosh. The gnome! You did it? I told you I was supposed to-- Oh no! School!" Jim panicked.

"We have to call you in sick. Tell them you ate too much chocolate. That always works," Toby ordered, shoving his phone into Jim's little face.

"No, Señor Uhl can sniff out a lie a mile away," Jim refused. He thought for a second when his eyes lit up. "That's it! Toby, I need you to do me a huge favour. Well, maybe a small one. But huge."

You gave him confused look.

"Look, I have a plan, just trust me on this," Jim explained. "Plus, you should be heading to school right now."

"Fine, but I want you to be normal size by the end of the day. I can't take you home like this," you said, gesturing to his size.

"Okay. Now, go!" Jim said.

You rode off to school, hoping your brother would return to his normal size.

#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #toa #toa douxie #tales of arcadia #trollhunters

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

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can you do a oneshot where Human B!D is in the hospital for some reason? Her sisters are takin turns staying with her, but she's really bummed about missing game night so all the superfriends come and they have game night in B!D's hospital room?

Game Night at the DEO

Summary: The Superfriends and the eldest Danvers’ sisters adjust their game night plans to accommodate Y/N’s hospital visit.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

DCEU Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/mundodeseriess

Ironically, Alex and Kara had been sitting in Kara’s apartment, setting up the games for the game night which was the following weekend, when they got the news. Y/N had worked late that day for her job at the DOE and was sent on a last minute mission which was supposed to be simple and harmless right before she wrapped up for the night. Unfortunately, it was a trap. Some evil guys had wanted to lure out a superhero and when they did, they attacked Y/N. She just about managed to escape, but J’onn had to inform the older Danvers’ sisters that their younger sister was now in the DEO built-in hospital.

It was safe to say that the women did not take the news well. They dropped everything they were doing and Kara flew them to the DEO. Within minutes, the superhero and the agent had burst into the medical ward, frantic and yelling to anyone and everyone around about their sister and her condition.

Luckily, J’onn had been sitting in the waiting room, also anxious for news since Y/N was like a daughter to him, but he managed to be a bit calmer than Alex and Kara. He rose from his seat and just locking eyes with the alien managed to calm the sisters down. In quick strides, they were standing in front of J’onn, eyes wide, wanting - needing - to hear what happened and some good news.

“The doctors are still doing tests to see the extent of her injuries, but she’s going to be okay,” was the first thing he said.

Both Danvers’ let out breaths of relief and they slumped in the chairs across from J’onn, who sat back down as well. After a couple minutes of the trio just observing each other and their surroundings, Alex plucked up the courage to ask what she and Kara had been wondering ever since the phone call.

“What did they do to her?”

J’onn shifted his gaze to his lap. After a beat, he answered. “After she arrived at the scene, she stopped answering her comms since she was fighting. When she ran in the opposite direction of them, though, we checked in. All she said was ‘ambush’ and ‘too many’ before she stopped replying, so a team went out to her last known location . . . They found her unconscious-” he gave Alex and Kara a moment to process this. “-and two of the guys had ran after her. Our agents found them and interrogated them, and they admitted that they had faked a fight on the streets to draw a superhero out since they claimed they despised superheroes. They wanted to bring all superheroes down, but they didn’t except for Y/N to escape. They beat her up and hurt her real badly.”

The three fell into silence. The information was overwhelming, impossible to swallow. Both women were filled with great concern but also unbeatable rage, their minds conjuring up images of Y/N fighting and then running. It broke them.

They only snapped out of their thoughts when the doctor emerged, and her face was unreadable, lips drawn into a tight line, holding a slim paper in her hands. “Agent Danvers will heal,” she announced, and then glanced down at her paper. “She’s greatly bruised, cut-up, and has a minor concussion - she suffered no major injuries, though. We’ll have her stay overnight and then we’ll see when she can be discharged tomorrow.”

The three nodded and scrambled to her feet. “Can we see her?” Kara asked, her voice sounding strained. The doctor nodded.

Alex and Kara went in first to find their younger sister laying bandaged-up on the bed, but giving them a small smile. Immediately, the brunette and blonde rushed over to her, asking her if she was okay and how she was feeling.

Y/N just sunk further into her pillows and took her sister’s hands, quieting. “I won’t lie, I’m not feeling great, but I’m okay - just really tired,” she admitted.

They nodded and didn’t press her any further, allowing her to sleep.

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

The next morning and Y/N was eager to get out of there. She didn’t stop talking about the game night which was going to be that night and how she really wanted to catch up with everyone and play. Alex and Kara couldn’t blame her and hoped that she could get discharged, too, but were still a little concerned.

They were her sisters, how could they not be?

Nonetheless, the doctor came in and instructed Y/N to stand up and walk around and see how she felt. Alex and Kara sat in their chairs, eyes darting back-and-forth between each other and Y/N, who nodded, easing herself out of bed.

She stood up and smiled — everyone else smiled, too — and prepared herself to take a walk around. However, after she took her first couple of steps, that was when her dizziness hit. “Woah,” she mumbled, putting a hand to her head and stumbling back.

Kara, who was closest, leaped out of her chair and steadied Y/N, gently pushing her back on the bed. The doctor frowned and checked her papers. “Dizziness isn’t good, what are you feeling?” She asked.

Y/N thought for a moment, scrunching her face up. “I think-I think those guys yesterday night . . . Now I remember, I think they blasted me with uh, this device that I’ve seen before. It weakens you. Drains you,” she said.

The doctor muttered under her breath, made a note on her paper, informed her that she’d have to stay at least one more day, and then left.

As soon as she did, Y/N explained that it must have been one of the DEO’s devices to her sisters (who knows how they got their hands on it), but pouted, unhappy that she wasn’t discharged.

Alex and Kara soon recognized this and had a silent conversation, resulting in Alex staying with Y/N while Kara made up a fake excuse to go out into the waiting room and make some arrangements.

She called the superfriends — Lena, Winn, J’onn, James, Brainy, and Nina — and told them that game night was still on, but held at a different location this time.

Everyone “RSVP’d” and at 7:00, they all showed up with Y/N’s favorite: PIZZAAA!

To say she was surprised to see everyone walk through the room’s door was an understatement. Her jaw dropped (especially when she saw the pizza) and she grinned, beyond overjoyed to see everyone. She didn’t care that she was injured, and gave them all hugs anyway (well, half-hugs, since she was laying down).

Everyone asked her how she was and she just responded with, “Better now that you’re here.”

Alex and Lena opened the pizza and got everyone slices while Kara got drinks. They ate pizza and turned on the med’s room T.V, which was filled with the basic channels but the superfriends did dramatized commentary to make Y/N laugh, and she did.

Afterwards, the games began!

Everyone split into teams, and everyone wanted Y/N on theirs. She ultimately went with Nia, and the teams were: Y/N and Nia, James and Winn, J’onn and Alex, and Lena and Kara.

First up was Pictionary! Y/N and Nia dominated everyone else. Then, they went into an exciting couple of rounds of Monopoly (which lasted forever), and Lena and Kara came out on top. To close out the night, they finished up with Never Have I Ever (lots of things got revealed there).

All in all, staying at medical wasn’t so bad. The bed’s mattress wasn’t horrible and Y/N got to have game night like she wanted to! She was never more thankful than that moment to have the amazing sisters and friends that she did.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @acertainredhead

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

The Dark Team (part 1)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>> Join the taglist in here

Spotify playlist of the whole series.

“You’re terrible with that neutral face”, you said to Peter, who was about to burst out of laughter. “We’re so winning this”. Bucky sighed as he leaned over to watch your terrible cards, but said nothing.

“Hey, that’s basically cheating”, Steve protested. “You guys are good at the mean-neutral face, and I got the kid. These teams should’ve been set up based on age”.

“Yeah, no. You old men have way more experience in poker, so it’s actually alright like this”, you excused, knowing damn well you and Bucky were together because of the awesome team you made. Bucky stayed silent but drew a competitive smirk across his face.

The rain pecked on the windows of the compound’s common room and the only noises you heard were your chattering, the storm and the bag of chips. Or whatever you could call those things; rich in protein, but definitely not rich in flavour.

“Don’t we have any better kinds of chips?” you finally asked the thing Peter was too scared to. Steve and Bucky weren’t even aware there were different types of chips; they thought the modern ones just sucked.

“I don’t think so, these are the kind Tony likes” answered Nat from the couch, not paying attention to the cards game.

“Well, he’s not here, might as well go get some better ones” said Bucky getting up, ready to get lost in the store. You and Peter got up as well, to join him and guide him through it. “Where’s he anyways? He never misses a Friday Game Night”. You shrugged your shoulders and looked around.

“Must be in the lab with Banner”.

“Oh, yeah. They’re working on the next mission, and they’re being extra secretive and mysterious about it”, said Nat once again, not taking her sight off her phone. Peter and you glanced at each other mischievously. “Why did I even say anything? Kids, you can’t go. They’re actually being careful with it”.

“Sounds like a dangerous mission, then”, said Peter.

“My favourite kind”, you answered with a smirk. “Let 's go. Maybe they even let us get in”.

“Not even in your dreams”, said both Bucky and Steve, grabbing both of you by the arms. “We’re the ones supposed to take care of you two, so if anything happens…”.

“We’re Avengers too, you know? What other fifteen year old can lift a bus with his bare hands, huh?” dared Peter. Bucky laughed as Steve sighed and sat back down on his chair.

“Don’t be imprudent, guys. And you have a harder mission now; to teach me how to get chips on that Hellish place”.

“Come on, I’m sure you can figure out the store by yourself”.

“Let me tell you, it’s anywhere near what they looked like back in my days”.

“Your grandpa-mode is showing, James”, you said bumping his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go”.

But as soon as you grabbed your coat and got ready to leave with your team-mates, Bruce showed up at the common room and asked both you and Bucky to join them. You blew a strawberry to Peter and walked out of the room victoriously.

“That’s childish!” he said before you were out of sight. You answered mockingly with a “I might be childish but I’m the adult going to the mission!”.

Once in the lab, you were surprised to find more than just Tony and Bruce playing around with chemicals. Thor was standing there with a mortifying look on his face, grabbing someone else by the shoulder, as to make sure he didn’t escape. This man (was he a man?) was not only escorted by two security guards near him, but also handcuffed on his back, with cuffs that looked only decoratively, since he seemed he could break them with two fingers. Dressed in a huge leather and metal armor that gave you the cue he might be from Thor’s world (Asgard, was it?). Tony didn’t speak just yet as you arrived, so you gave yourself some more time to inspect around. And “around” meant this new member. Was he with Thor? Didn’t look like family or friend. Completely different from the God of Thunder in every aspect, except in that imponent vibe only a God could pull off so casually. He had his eyes fixed on the ceiling, or at least very far from any conversation that could be happening in that lab. Looked nervous, or very quiet. It was not an easy person to read at all, and you felt your abilities were useless.

“Alright”, said Tony, finally pulling his eyes off the microscope “mission. Quite easy, actually, if done with the right team. My old friends from Hydra have a stick full of information we absolutely need to have away from them. It’s in the wrong hands, believe me. You three are going to take that stick and bring it to me. Simpler to say it than to actually do it, but I’m sure you can pull it off”.

“Sounds fine to me,” says Bucky, and you nod. “What about that dude?”.

“That 's… Thor’s brother; God of Jokes, or something childish like that, I don’t know. Is also sort of a popsicle and a maniac, if you ask me. Not relevant, he’s good with being bad and that’s what matters for this mission”. Tony’s vague introduction allowed you to make a bigger profile of him on your head. A God. That explained why he was so damn attractive. Even more than Thor; he had an elegance you’d never seen before, a charm that couldn’t go unnoticed. Tony kept talking about the details of the mission but you couldn’t pay much attention, for you had your eyes fixed on him.

He rolled his eyes discreetly at the violent introduction of Tony; they seemed like they already knew each other and it didn’t go well. You then realized he said ‘he’s good at being bad and that’s what matters for this mission’, so… he would be the third one? Not Thor, as you assumed?

“You know, it’s usually me the soul-gazing one. You’re stealing my job”, whispered Bucky, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m not doing such thing��. You so were, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to Bucky.

“You so are”.

“Hey, could you quit the chattery, damn teenagers? We’re gathering the Dark Team in here”, interrupted Tony.

“Teenagers? I’m twice your age, man” says Bucky with a plain tone of voice, and you snorted. Tony scoffed. “Alright, keep going. What did you say about the team? Or… Dark Team, did you say?”.

“It’s like a subunit we’re planning, inside the Avengers team, we could have tiny teams divided by some sort of special distinction, very personality-based. You three would be the Dark Team. We’re also adding agent Romanoff and Clint at some point, but in this mission you three would do”, he explained.

“What about Mr. Criminal in there?” you asked, pointing at Thor’s brother. You just realized they haven’t said his name yet.

“Criminal?” he finally said. His deep and velvety voice twisted something in your stomach. Damn, he was hot. You played it cool (or so you thought).

“Why is he handcuffed?” you ignored him completely, asking Tony.

“Well, he kind of tried to take over the planet once, long ago. You weren’t in New York, I think you were on another mission” he cut you shortly, and kept going with other details you didn’t really care about.

“I thought your face seemed familiar, I saw you on the news the next day, after the whole New York thing”, you finally talked directly to him, and went back to Tony “where was I, though? Can’t seem to remember, and I remember everything”.

“I don’t know, can you please pay fucking attention to what I’m saying? This is especially for you; you’re in charge of the planning”.

You took your head off Thor’s brother and paid attention to Tony’s words. But the new God showed up on your head later that day, before going to bed. You knew him from somewhere else, didn’t you?

#Loki #loki from asgard #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki masterlist #loki headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki fic #loki x reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki and reader #loki x y/n

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

pel!ivan and fedyor went through a lot of ups and some downs from the end of pel and 2021 but they also celebrated 10 years together 🥳 i hope fedyor shoved cake into ivan’s face and also you know, im sure they were mushy like the saps they are

Ivan was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago – actually, at this point, more like twenty – but the clients are still fucking talking, and if they keep it up much longer, he’s going to add it to the bill for “initial consultation.” Drew has a man-bun and unbearably hip black glasses, and works as a developer for some start-up app that he’s tried to convince Ivan to download at least twelve times. (What does the app actually do? Don’t know don’t care.) Mia is thin, blonde, waifish, smells like essential oils, and has been flitting around with her smartphone the entire time, getting in Ivan’s way as she snaps perfectly filtered pictures of the “developmental process” and posts them nonstop on Instagram. They both have a lot of opinions on how they want the energy of the space to feel, and a preapproved list of ethically sourced suppliers. They have paid some ludicrous price for this converted loft in Prospect Heights and chose the location for its proximity to the best farmer’s markets and hippie coffeehouses. Did Ivan die? Is this hell?

Somewhat ostentatiously, he looks at his watch. “Okay,” he announces. “I think that wraps up. You have work number, so – ”

“Oh, just one more thing!” Drew has recently read one (1) book on home design and thinks he’s an expert, so Ivan is forced to suffer his idiotic opinions about the kind of tile they want to use on the kitchen backsplash. Somehow, he manages not to roll his eyes directly out of his head, for which he should be commended. Ivan has discovered that the secret of successfully dealing with people, especially clients, is to smile and nod at everything they say, while mercilessly mocking them in your head. Amazing, the things you learn as a small-business owner in Brooklyn in the year of our lord 2021. Especially when it comes to renovating overpriced tiny gentrified apartments for insufferable techno-douchebags and their vapid influencer girlfriends. And people think Ivan might want to live like this more often? No fucking thank you.

Finally (it’s another ten minutes after that, this is definitely going on the bill), they more or less wrap up, except for the fact that Mia then wants a picture with the three of them. “It’s just so important to us that we’re supporting the immigrant community,” she explains earnestly. “After all, being open, tolerant, learning from our neighbors, people who are different from us, that’s what life is all about. We just love that you’re foreign. The energy feels so right, you know?”

Ivan wonders whether to inform her that he has lived in this country for eight years and been a full citizen (passport and voting rights and everything) for three, then decides that this would venture into sharing-personal-information territory and he is having none of it. His English has improved to the point where he can handle almost all business transactions by himself, but feigning incomprehension can sometimes get him out of them when they turn really stupid. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option here, and so he diligently leans into the frame, smiling half an inch, while Mia snaps a picture of “us and our adorable Russian contractor!!” Ivan informs her of the correct flag emoji to add to the filter, decides that he’s going to add an extra fifty bucks just for that, and finally, finally, makes his escape.

It’s rush hour, and the Q is crammed as Ivan heads into midtown. So much for social distancing and not getting too close to anyone, which is the only thing from the pandemic that he wouldn’t mind keeping. Only about half the crowd is wearing masks, including him, and so he gets off at Times Square, dodges the latest lunatic standing on a soapbox and shouting about how it is all a hoax, and walks several blocks uptown, just to get some space. He finally reaches the restaurant, where he has to flash his vaccination card to get inside (Ivan, who remains Russian to the marrow of his bones, is a little irked that he couldn’t get Sputnik here and had to settle for Pfizer) and climbs up to the open-air rooftop terrace. It is only when he spots his husband, waiting at a table that overlooks the glittering evening lights of the city, when Ivan pulls off his mask and allows himself to properly smile. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “They are the worst.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Fedyor musters a smile in return, though his eyes look permanently tired these days and Ivan would bet that he’s been scrolling through more depressing emails on his phone. Technically Fedyor is on a two-month sabbatical from work, but he can’t stop himself, and Ivan has had to pry it from his fingers on a number of occasions. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Ivan nods stoutly, they are furnished with the drinks and appetizers list, and when the waiter asks if there’s any special occasion tonight, tell him that they are celebrating their ten-year anniversary, albeit somewhat late. This was supposed to happen last spring, but obviously, nobody in New York was going out to a restaurant in the early months of 2020, and Ivan himself had barely gotten home from the hospital and still could be knocked over in a strong breeze. They’re celebrating a lot of things tonight, in other words, even if it’s now been eleven years, not ten, since the day Ivan marched into a Red Square coffee shop and engaged in – well, Fedyor has made sure to inform him that the first date didn’t go nearly as well as Ivan always thought it did. But it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, wedding bands on their fingers, a couple of successful American urban professionals who have built a nice life for themselves and are, if anything, even more madly in love than they were when this whole nutty adventure together first began. So really, if you ask Ivan Sakharov Kaminsky, it went just fine after all.

The waiter congratulates them, gives them two drinks for the price of one, and they both relax and start to talk, fully at ease in the way they only are in each other’s company. Ivan does his Mia impression in an extremely convincing falsetto (after all, [NAME REDACTED] has practice at this) and Fedyor almost dies laughing. They hold hands on the table – no need to hold them under the table – and gaze into each other’s eyes all they want, order dinner and dessert, and take a long time about it. They raise several toasts to this, to them, to ten years, may there be many more. Ivan pays the bill, his treat, and they walk slowly back to Times Square, hand-in-hand, Fedyor’s head nestled on Ivan’s shoulder. It’s New York. Nobody cares.

They ride the Q home, in all its smelly, secondhand glory, taking an hour to bang out to Brighton Beach and descending the elevated stairs into the familiar down-at-heel comfort of their Russian-American neighborhood, neon Cyrillic signs glowing in windows and somebody shouting about how if Sergei ever shows his face here again, she is going to cut his dick off. Ivan and Fedyor look at each other and snort, resisting the urge to shout up and ask what exactly Sergei did, and walk a few more minutes to their building. They climb up three flights of stairs to their apartment, unlock the door and the deadbolt, and step inside.

The instant they are home, Rasputin shoots out of nowhere, yowling as if he has been neglected for months, and curls himself around Ivan’s ankles (he is still liable to give Fedyor evil looks when he feels that this interloper has been stealing his human too often). Ivan sighs, trudges to the kitchen, points out to Rasputin that his food bowl is still half full, gets a wounded look in return, and adds an extra scoopful. Once the cat is happily snarfing down, Fedyor pulls Ivan by the hand, into the dim living room with its blowing curtains. “Come here, my love,” he says. “Hold me.”

Ivan does as ordered, because it’s his favorite thing in the world: cuddling Fedyor close, nothing but the two of them in all of time and space, swaying slowly in the blue hour with fingers and arms and hearts entwined. Ivan kisses Fedyor’s temple, and Fedyor nestles even closer, melted into his embrace. “I love you, Vanya,” he mumbles against Ivan’s collarbone. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Fedya.” Ivan leans down and kisses him properly, sweet and slow and lingering, as they continue to waltz in stately time to a music that nobody except the two of them can hear. “I’m still not always sure why you married me, but I am very glad you did.”

#heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #ivan x fedyor #a phantom in enchanting light #pel asks #anonymous #ask #(in repayment for the pain i have inflicted on you with the lighthouse au)#(ahem)

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wrathandgreed · 3 years

Note

Idea: Barbatos professing his love for you the first time. Take it however you want with angst or fluff 😘

Surprises

GN!MC x Barbatos (fluff)

Word count: 6.5k

Author Note: Somehow, this took on a life of its own, and now I’m in love with Barbatos.

You wonder, briefly, if this is how Cinderella felt.

Everyone assumes that Cinderella spent the ball floating on air, waltzing gracefully with the prince, impressing everyone with her beauty and charm.

Did anyone ever think that maybe, just maybe, Cinderella felt completely out of place? That huge ball gown, skirts wide enough to knock food off tables. The high heels, so much harder to walk in than bare feet. And everyone looking at her, always eyes watching her.

Maybe she found her true love, sure, but maybe she really just wanted to dash off to the kitchen, where things felt familiar and safe.

As you stand in Diavolo’s heavily decorated ballroom, a smile plastered on your face, pity for Cinderella runs through your head. Couture might look good, but it was constricting. You didn’t dare eat or drink - nothing washes out of this fabric. Also, trying to undo the whole outfit just to pee was NOT going to happen. The ballroom was sweltering hot and you were sweating under your clothes.

To be fair, it hadn’t been all bad, especially not in the beginning. Stepping into Diavolo’s castle was like stepping into a fairy tale. Millions of tiny lights floated all around, little wisps that barely illuminated anything but lent a bewitching aura to every room. The edges of the ballroom were lined with tables full of Barbatos’ cooking and baking. You smile as you passed a tray of cookies you had helped him make yesterday; maybe when the ball was over and you no longer had to worry about your party clothes, you’d steal one.

The music had been fun - instrumental and easy to dance to, and boy had you danced! Every one of the brothers had, at one time, claimed your hand and spun you around the dance floor. Lucifer had waltzed and twirled you expertly, covering the entire dance floor in one song. Satan, somehow, was better - perhaps because he cared more about dancing with you than showing off that he was dancing with you. Mammon fumbled more than anything else but, except for bumping into other demons a few times, his feet were pretty sure. And once he gave up on trying to replicate the fancy moves of Lucifer and Satan, the two of you just whirled around the dance floor with absolutely no concern for your safety or anyone else’s.

Asmo refused to let you go for almost half an hour while he showed off moves the two of you had practiced together. Belphie and Beel pulled you into a strange three-person dance with a lot of hand-holding and ducking under each other’s arms until all three of you were howling with laughter and had to excuse yourself into the hallway.

And in the hallway, you even managed to lure Levi into a little swaying slow dance in the corner. It felt a little like an 8th grade formal, but his eyes shone when you put your head on his shoulder, so everything was good.

The brothers had passed you from hand to hand, protecting you and dancing, laughing, talking, flirting. When you thought no one was looking, you snuck out your phone and took selfies with them, for the scrapbook you were making of your time here.

But like Cinderella’s coach, you felt like you turned into a pumpkin around midnight. It was now a few hours past and your patience and enjoyment were wearing thin. You thought longingly of the room Lord Diavolo had given you here for the night, but Diavolo himself had vanished and demonic etiquette dictates that you not leave without thanking him personally, and perhaps indulging the Demon Prince himself in a dance.

Your feet ache at the idea of another turn around the floor.

“MC, darling, don’t move! There’s someone I want to see, but I’ll be back in just a second,” Asmo whispers in your ear before slipping off into the crowd.

Surprised, you look around and realize none of the brothers are moving to replace him at your side. Lucifer had disappeared with Diavolo, muttering something about paperwork. Mammon and a few lesser demons are playing cards in a game room across the hall. Levi - well, there was no keeping Levi at a formal function full of people for any length of time. Beel was….. yes, Beel was over there by the food tables, and Belphie was probably napping on a couch in the hallway.

You realize you can’t see Barbatos anywhere, either. Through it all, you’d catch glimpses of him, refilling food and clearing away glasses. Once, he caught your eye and gave you his gentlest, friendliest smile. A few hours later, he happened to be in exactly the right place to catch you as you and Mammon tripped over another demon’s tail while trying to waltz.

You would have welcomed his presence, but for the moment you were alone.

Wonderfully, gratefully, blessedly alone.

You gather the extra material of your outfit and in your head you see Cinderella hiking her ball gown to her knees to book down the stairs. Trying to remain unseen, you carefully open the terrace doors and slip out onto the balcony.

The crisp air outside slaps you in the face and you almost whimper in relief. Without stopping to think, you lean your back against the now-closed terrace doors and yank off your shoes.

A noise off to your left startles you, has you whipping your head to the side and clutching your shoes to your chest. If you have to put your shoes back on, you’re going to cry.

But it’s Barbatos.

He’s humming lightly along with the music inside as he passes by more slim banquet tables, gathering empty wine glasses onto a silver tray for washing. His hair catches the moonlight and for a moment you’re bewitched by him, by his gentle demeanor and quick efficiency.

It had been that demeanor and efficiency which allowed you to become friendly in the first place.

Devil’s sake, why are these stupid meetings always so long?!

You hadn’t been in the Devildom long, but somehow you’d had to sit through like seven Council meetings already. And this one was going on forever, but you weren’t allowed in the room because it was a SECRET meeting and you’re not a Council Member.

And you’re also not allowed to just walk home because you could get eaten by a lesser demon.

So instead, you’re sitting on the floor in the hallway outside the council room. Trying to get comfortable and read your book, but your feet keep going numb any time you settle into a reading position. In a minute you’re going to just say hell with dignity and lay flat-out on the floor, tent your book over your face, and take a nap. You’re getting more and more annoyed when -

“That certainly does not look comfortable, MC.”

You glance up from your book, and there’s Diavolo’s butler. His name had something to do with islands. Barbatos? Bora Bora? Aruba sounded wrong. You’d spoken to him a few times, but barely knew him at all so, as far as you’re concerned, he’s part of the problem. Right now, every demon is part of the problem.

“It’s not comfortable,” you return tartly. “But I’m stuck here until this meeting is over, since I’m not even allowed to walk back to the damn House on my own.”

The butler’s face clouds over, but all he does is excuse himself and enter the council room. For a second, you worry that you offended him with your rudeness, but then you decide you don’t care. He’s a demon. If he deals with this lot regularly, rudeness shouldn’t be something that bothers him all that much.

You settle into another position - back against the wall, legs straight out in front of you. It’ll relieve the pins and needles in your feet, but you just know your ass will be numb in twenty minutes….and suddenly Barbatos/Bora Bora is back in front of you, bent over at the hips and with an extended hand to help you rise. When you just gape at him, he smiles that small self-contained smile of his.

“I’ve spoken with Lucifer, and I have leave to walk you back to the House myself, so long as I remain with you until one of them returns.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have way more interesting things to do than babysit me.”

His smile widens, his eyes sparkle just a little at your polite refusal. He doesn’t wait for the little lamb to stand on their own and, instead, grasps your hand with both of his and pulls you to your feet.

“I insist. I have all the time in the world, after all.”

Your own smile twists, just a little. You had no idea what he meant by that at the time, and it’s still a little creepy to think about.

The butler did, indeed, walk you back to the House of Lamentation. And he did, indeed, refuse to leave you alone once there. Every suggestion and argument you raised - because, really, you’re an adult and you can stay alone in a damn house - was met with that smile, that patience, and that absolutely immutable stubborn will.

But, hey, after passing on the information that one of the brothers would grab dinner from Hell’s Kitchen and bring it home, Barbatos insisted that the two of you make dessert.

You knew what he was doing. You’re not stupid. You’d barely been in the Devildom two weeks, and you knew no one trusted you on your own yet. You were to remain, both under guard and guarded against, until trust could be established.

And it fascinated you to watch Barbatos work. It wasn’t exactly a punishment to sit in the warm kitchen and watch a master doing his thing. Initially, he had insisted you help, but…..

“You are truly hopeless, aren’t you? And I thought the rumors of Solomon’s cooking were alarming.”

“Yeah, well, cooking’s boring.” When Barbatos shoots you a look, you shrug, refusing to back down. “If you like doing it, cool, works for you. I don’t. It’s just…. it’s FOOD. You spend two hours making it, and everyone will eat it in under fifteen minutes. Less if Beel is around.”

“I find it soothing,” the butler returns, amusement evident in his voice.

“Awesome for you. That’s not a dig, really, it’s great that you enjoy it. I like to knit; everyone has something. But I can’t do any of this stuff in the first place, and DEFINITELY not in silence. It’s too distracting.”

“And what music do you listen to when working?”

“Oh, uh, not music. Audiobooks.” You FEEL yourself blushing. “I’m a Lit major. Well, I was. I’ve probably been thrown out of college for non-attendance at this point.”

Barbatos smiles as his hands move effortlessly through the ingredients. “I believe Lord Diavolo has ensured that your education will continue as you desire after this year is over.” He hesitates just a moment, then continues, “I believe Satan has mentioned audiobooks in the past, but he has to go to the human world to get them. They are what they sound like?”

You hitch yourself up on a high kitchen stool. “Yeah, exactly. A recording of someone reading a book out loud. Usually it’s more of a dramatic reading, sometimes like a play with a bunch of people taking different parts. Not a Devildom thing, huh?”

“No, but I shall bring the idea up to Lord Diavolo. Perhaps we could interest more demons in the Royal Library this way. Humans enjoy them?”

“Until we had stuff like radio and TV, most entertainment was someone reading to the family while everyone did their own thing. They’re not as big now, but yeah, some humans like them.”

Hands still clutching your book from earlier, you watch Barbatos in silence for a few minutes, then blurt out before you can stop yourself, “Maybe you might like it? I feel bad that you’re doing all the cooking and I’m just sitting here.”

A brief expression - it might have been surprise - flits across the otherwise placid face before Barbatos murmurs an assent. And, a little nervously, you open your book and start over, reading aloud from the first page.

Of course, you had less than an hour of quiet time with Barbatos before the brothers brought their chaos home. Enough time for the cake to be in the oven and for the butler to make you a cup of tea to soothe your voice. But it was nowhere near enough time to enjoy the book, and the company.

A few days later, an incoming text from your DDD surprised you.

ButlerBarb: MC, it is Barbatos. Might I request a favor?

MC: You need a taste-tester? I’m sure anything you’re making works, but I’m absolutely willing to sacrifice my life for some more of that cake.

ButlerBarb: I am flattered! And you are always welcome to sample my food.

MC: Awesome. So what’s this favor?

ButlerBarb: I have been mulling over the book we shared the other night. I don’t like to start things and not finish them. Might I borrow the book when you are done with it?

MC: Of course! I’m almost done myself, so I can get it to you soon.

ButlerBarb: I must warn you, I have little spare time for reading. It might take me some time to return it.

MC: That’s not a problem!

MC: Actually…..why don’t I come by and read some more to you while you cook or whatever?

MC: You could get more of the story at a time and I’d have someone to discuss the book with.

MC: I miss having smart conversations about books. Satan’s probably my only option and he seems to think I’m really sus right now. Literary criticism doesn’t seem to rank high on anyone else’s list around here.

ButlerBarb: And what makes you think it’s high on mine?

ButlerBarb: Forgive me, I forget how curt jokes can look over text. I am uncertain what “sus” means, but I would like to listen to and discuss the book with you. Perhaps tomorrow, after your classes? Lucifer and Lord Diavolo have a meeting and I doubt Lucifer would object to walking you over.

ButlerBarb: And perhaps you could taste-test some pastries for me. I would never want to serve anything substandard, after all.**

And that had been that. As time went on and you began to trust the denizens of the House of Lamentation, to laugh and joke and flirt with them, you also made sure you spent a few afternoons a week reading to Barbatos and debating story arcs, narrative choices, and character motivations. You also discussed these things with Satan now, but Satan was more like one of your professors - he had very definite opinions, and they were usually the old, staid opinions that every professor over the age of 50 had. Truthfully, it was fun trying to inject queer theory, feminist theory, and all sorts of modern interpretations into the discussion. Anything to shake him up a little. He absorbed them and found them interesting, but he was more comfortable with interpretations that had centuries of influence.

Barbatos was different.

Barbatos wanted to know what you thought. He was curious about the human interpretation of the events of the novel, the human understanding of character. You weren’t sure if he was interested on his own behalf or Diavolo’s, but his questions made you think about your own opinions and thoughts of the novel - of storytelling in general - in ways you hadn’t before.

He would then contrast your opinion/human opinion with a general demon opinion, and then his opinion. And when he offered his own opinions…..hoo, boy, you would have paid good money to see him argue down some of your more uptight professors. He was a little scary, sometimes, and he often made you remember, sharply, that demons definitely had their own morals and values.

Like when he defended Iago and his jealous meddling in Othello’s life. (“If Othello had any strength of mind at all, he never would have fallen for it. It was a good test for him - a man in charge of armies should not allow himself to be undone by a single jealous rival.”)

Like his absolute judgement on most of the characters in Sense and Sensibility. (“Frankly, Willoughby would wind up being tortured for a few millennia for his deceit and vanity, the greedy branch of the Dashwood family - well, there is a very interesting way of dealing with the greedy down here….”)

Like his amusement in Medea’s vengeance. (“A strong woman who refuses to allow herself to be cowed or tamed. Oh, damned for sure, but an admirable woman nonetheless.”)

You loved the discussion and debate. He stretched your mind in ways you had never considered. But what you loved more was how relaxed Barbatos become.

Inch by inch, he loosened up. When the food was cooking or the bread was rising, he began to sit with you at the kitchen island. Initially, he would sit ramrod-straight, his hands often cutting vegetables or decorating pie crusts. After a few more weeks, he would sit and listen to you read with his head resting on one hand, absently plucking grapes from their stem with the other. Eventually he simply stood, leaning on the table next to you as you discussed the latest chapter over a cup of tea. Watching the slow, cautious relaxation in his posture was almost as interesting to you as his literary opinions.

Discussions of literature became discussions of life. Of choices, and the consequences of them. You learned far more about his powers as he detailed one choice in one life and the ramifications across multiple timelines.

His matter-of-fact discussions on time, the nature of reality, and the links between them tortured you and kept you up at night. For the first time, you truly abandoned fiction in favor of books of science. And still you knew you’d never really get it.

But that brought up new topics - what other consequences might there be for the actions taken in the books you’d read together?

You remember one fascinating night, after dinner at Diavolo’s, you sat with Barbatos in the kitchen as he cleaned up. Instead of reading to him, you were both throwing out ideas about other potential action-consequence links from Middlemarch, a book neither of you had really enjoyed. The suggestions got more and more ludicrous, helped along by a bottle of wine left over from dinner, until you saw something you never thought you would ever see.

Barbatos was laughing.

Not snickering, not giving his small amused smile, not even his occasional sarcastic smirk. But full-on, eyes-sparkling, belly-laughing. Almost, but not quite, hooting with it. It was the kind of laughter you can’t really stop, the kind that becomes contagious. You start chuckling with him, then laughing yourself, and now you’re both laughing simply because you’re already laughing.

He tried, very hard, to stop when Lucifer entered the kitchen with some request or another. He stood quietly, hand over his abdomen as usual, but you could see his body quivering as he held in his laughter. He tried to ask what Lucifer wanted, but every syllable threatened a chuckle so he remained silent. Lucifer looked at the scene, both you and Barbatos struggling to appear calm, eyes and faces shiny with laughter, and he started to lecture you on taking up Barbatos’ time.

Without thinking about it (also kind of drunk, so there’s that) you leaned over to Barbatos, put your hand on his shoulder, and sing-songed in a stage-whisper, “Uh-oh. Daddy’s mad.”

And Barbatos broke. Both of you were gone again, laughing so hard that the only reason you were standing is that you were holding each other up.

You assume that Lucifer went and tattled to Diavolo, covering it up by “apologizing” for how you monopolize Barbatos’ time, but all that came of it was an open invitation from the Demon Prince to come over to the castle whenever you wanted, as Barbatos could use some more laughter in his life.

And so you did.

The more time you spent there, the more you realized not just how important Barbatos was to the running of the castle (and, thus, the Devildom), but also how nice he could be. He always had your favorite treat or tea on hand. You started accompanying him on many of his chores. In fact, you saved the best discussions for when you were both out of the kitchen. Nothing made weeding the garden or polishing the silver go quicker than a bright and easy discussion.

One of your favorite times with him was riding the train to the market. He insisted on turning the tables and reading to you. It was one of the only times where no one could expect him to have other chores to do, so he read instead.

Maybe because of how generous Barbatos always was with his time, you started bringing little things with you. Some cut flowers from the House’s garden. A single box of rare tea that you know Barbatos said was out of stock (of course, it wouldn’t occur to him to ask Levi to track it down online). And once, browsing a used bookstore with Satan, you found an ancient recipe book that you couldn’t wait to bring to the castle.

Each of your little gifts had been received with surprise, then a smile that seemed really genuine. The flowers had been arranged in a pretty glass vase and placed by the kitchen window seat, the tea immediately prepared for you both, and the recipe book declared a wonderful find — apparently, it had a recipe for Newt-Spiced Devilbread that he had never seen before.

You had beamed with pride over his pleasure in the book, and been touched when a small package containing Devilbread (modified, according to the note, for human tastes) was found on your desk in the House a few days later.

Everything about him made you feel appreciated. Which is why you were so happy to see him there, otherwise alone on a balcony.

Of all the people at the ball, it was the upright, too-correct butler that you weren’t afraid to have see you in bare feet. He’d seen you covered in dirt, covered in flour, and, on one occasion when he’d dropped by the house unexpectedly, in ratty pajamas and toe-spacers with a face mask on. That one was Asmo’s fault.

You want him to see you now. You want him to turn around and see you, to have a moment, any kind of moment, while you were dressed in couture at a ball. You want to be the reason he genuinely smiles, the reason he laughs.

I mean, look at him! Decked out in demon form like the rest. But instead of being scary or intimidating, his demon form was….comfortable. It suited him, far more than the human-look. While his clothes still looked butler-ish, something about the ruffles and falling folds looked like a modern Victorian-style suit. It fit his fussiness without being uptight.

That was it. His demon form was still “correct” in the way a butler was correct, but it wasn’t stuffy or uptight, the way the normal butler outfit was.

You’d been around demons so long that wings, tails, and horns looked absolutely normal instead of strange. The delicate crown of black-bone horns, instead of looking demonic, looked like a regal frame for his face.

Something about him being buttoned-up from head to toe made you want to jump on top of him.

Okay, so you had a crush. No way were you going to ruin one of the best and most equal friendships you’d ever had by making a move on a thousands-year-old demon for fuck’s sake.

Even if just watching the surety of his hands made you weak sometimes. But you could handle it. It was fine. You were fine.

While you were watching him oh-so-efficiently stack glasses (you would be drooling right now, if you weren’t dehydrated from avoiding drinks in this outfit), he finally glances up and notices you.

“Ah, MC,” he says, and you take heart in his obvious pleasure in seeing you. “Taking a break?”

“It’s a little hot in there. And a little crowded.”

“And you tire of them following and leading you around,” Barbatos finishes with complete understanding. “If that is the case, come over here a moment where there are no windows; everyone can see you through those glass doors. It is only a matter of time before one of them comes looking for you.”

You get a split-second image of being railed against the wall there, just inches away from the glass doors, but stifle it instantly. “Sure,” is all you say as you walk over as casually as you can. “Want some help with the wine glass collection?”

The look he shoots you is amused and his voice is (you think you hope) full of affection. “As you are dangerous around glass at the best of times, and we don’t want broken glass and wine while you are both barefoot and in that outfit, I believe I’ll carry on on my own.”

An awkward silence fills the air. At least, it feels awkward on your end. The two of you had been silent together any number of times, but for some reason you can’t stand the silence right now. Just for something to say, you gesture at a small tray with assorted cookies.

“How did the pomegranate-jam alfajors turn out?”

“Excellent, and I thank you again for helping me make them. Would you like one?”

“Barbatos, we both know I did nothing more than hand you the jam and read another Sherlock Holmes story. Besides, I can’t risk this,” and you gesture to your clothes.

A mischievous look - not the first you’ve seen on his face - comes into Barbatos’ eyes. “Well, we must protect your sartorial savoir-faire. But we also can’t have you perishing from hunger, can we?”

He picks up a cookie and closes in on you. He’s not tall, not really, but he always seems tall when he stands so close to you. He holds the cookie at your mouth and cups the other hand under it, to catch crumbs.

“I can feed myself,” you mutter sullenly, ignoring the tingling of your body as his proximity. You don’t know why you’re resisting, he’s popped tidbits of all sorts of food into your mouth as you’ve cooked together in these past months. But this isn’t his well-lit kitchen, and it doesn’t feel like an innocent moment.

Barbatos merely lifts his brows a little, his smile widening imperceptibly. With a sigh, you take a bite of the cookie. “Happy?”

He brushes his thumb over your lips, dislodging a few loose crumbs. You know you’ve stopped breathing. “There.”

His face is so close to yours; you can feel his breath against your skin and see the swirling melding colors in his eyes. He still has his fingers on your face and you’re so close, so close….

You wait a moment. Every book you’ve ever read says that after a gesture like that, there’s a surprise kiss. It’s such a fairytale moment. But Barbatos just pops the other half of the cookie in his own mouth and turns away, returning to his work.

Confused, let down, you drift to the balcony railing to look out over the grounds. The last thing you want is for him to be able to read your face in the dim light. In fact, right now, you’re just wishing you were alone again. Now you’re in constricting clothing, barefoot, hungry, thirsty, somehow both warm AND cold, exhausted, and, thanks to that misleading cookie moment, bordering on depressed.

You glance at Barbatos quickly, but he’s just working as always. He’s always hard to read, and the flickering lights here make it even harder, but something about his face looks wrong. He’s not smiling. If anything, he looks - you want to say frustrated. Or angry. At what? At you?

“Barbatos?” You ask quietly. “Are you ok?”

He looks up sharply and you see another first. His hand fumbles on the glass he’s holding and it tumbles to the ground, shattering. You turn to help him gather the pieces and -

“Stop,” he snaps out, and for the first time since you’ve known him he actually sounds mad at you. A moment later the wine glass is back on the table, whole and unbroken.

A few breaths, and his face softens. “I apologize. I had to be sharp or you might have kept moving and hurt yourself. Or have you forgotten your feet?”

You glance down at your bare feet, your shoes forgotten on the ground a few feet away. You were just about to walk over broken glass to get to him. Symbolic, much?

“Barbatos….are you mad at me?”

“No, MC.” Why did his voice have to be so kind? It’s almost worse. “I’m angry with myself. A mistake I made earlier. You would think, with my knowledge of time, that finding a good moment….. But never mind.”

“Is it something I can help you with?”

He stays still a moment, as if thinking about it. “Perhaps. But it still requires the right moment, and I must find it myself first.”

“One of those demon things? A thousand years from now, maybe?” You’re trying to joke and you know it’s going to fall flat, but the uncomfortableness of this moment is getting to you.

“Oh, not that long. Soon, I’m sure.” His normal voice and face are back, and you envy his equanimity.

You nod at his pronouncement. You’re never going to argue with him about time, that’s just a losing battle. There’s also no way to get something out of him if he doesn’t want to talk about it. If he needs your help, you hope you’re friends enough that he’ll ask. Instead, you just turn back to the garden view.

The silence stretches out, and you wonder why Barbatos is still out here. The glasses are on the tray. The cookies and cakes have been refreshed. And now that you feel awkward, uncomfortable, and rejected, the desire to be alone is even stronger.

“MC, now it is my turn,” you hear from behind you. “Are you ok?”

You just nod. Time to evade. “Tired. It’s a late night for me. It’s beautiful here though,” you continue bravely, trying to get back on the right foot. “I love the gardens around here. I kind of wish I could see them in sunlight, though.”

A short laugh from Barbatos. “As that is unlikely to happen, I’ll have to show you around the grounds the next time there is a full moon and a cloudless night. There are many areas that are fully lit. Be prepared for a walk, though, the grounds are extensive.”

“Do you ever get used to it?” you ask suddenly. You’d only half been listening, instead you were thinking about the depth of the grounds, the amount of space here.

“Get used to what?”

“This,” you say, sweeping your arm to encompass everything around you. “This place, the castle, the grounds, this…..this luxury and beauty and, and grandeur.”

A moment passes and you feel him step up to the balcony railing on your left. The crispness of the air seems to fade as the demon comes to stand close to you. You want to step away, but you’re afraid he would misinterpret the movement, and maybe even be hurt. Quietly, as if revealing something, he says, “I have, I think, gotten used to it. Mostly. What’s the human expression? Not seeing the forest for the trees? It is difficult to see beauty and grandeur when you’re the one responsible for keeping it polished and clean. The number of details, the sheer magnitude of things to do…..it keeps your eyes focused only on what’s in front of you.”

But now his eyes rove over the grounds, taking in the garden and its sparkling lights, the endless expanse of sky and stars. His smile was, as always, slight, but there was satisfaction in his eyes. “Sometimes, though, when someone reminds me….it is a wonderful thing to allow myself to be swept away by it all again. It is beautiful. Thank you for reminding me of that.”

There was a moment of silence - and it felt like comfortable silence again - as the two of you survey the garden, so dark that the glittering fairy lights become almost indistinguishable from the night sky itself.

“But then,” Barbatos says, so softly his voice was almost a whisper, “you constantly remind me to look at things in new ways. And when you do, I always find something beautiful or interesting. Often both.”

His gloved hand reaches out and covers yours, where you had it on the balcony railing. You straighten and turn your eyes to him - the two of you had touched before, but never so deliberately. His hands over yours as he attempted to help you roll out pastry dough, holding each other up while laughing, and even an ill-advised flour war that would have been manageable had Diavolo not stepped into the kitchen and insisted on joining. For a moment, the pressure on your hand subsides, and you imagine you’ll simply have to power through the new awkwardness with a joke, but instead you find your hand suddenly clasped even more tightly in his.

“I can see everything, if I choose. The past, the present, the future. Any past, present, or future. So how is it that you always surprise me?”

“I’m sorry,” you say automatically.

He turns you suddenly and for one of the first times you truly read surprise on his face. “Don’t apologize!” It comes out stern and sharp and his voice immediately softens. “It has been….centuries, I think, since I was surprised at all. And I have never met someone by whom I was so constantly surprised. I….appreciate it.”

There’s something in his eyes, and you try desperately not to read too much into it. You’ve been disappointed once tonight already. Your own heart will break if you’re wrong. So you smile and joke instead. “Really? Lord Diavolo surprises me almost every day. They all do.”

Another smile. “The Young Master is impulsive, that is true. But I have served him for millennia. I have known all of them for thousands of years. And while I cannot predict everything they will do, even the strangest choices are no longer surprising.”

“So maybe I’m only surprising because you don’t know me well yet. Because I’m new here, or because I’m human.”

“I have known a lot of humans.” His gaze holds yours steadily and that word - bewitching - comes back to you again. “MC, you came here against your will and the first thing you did is begin to heal those brothers in there. Heal their wounds and heal their bonds. Who could have predicted that? How is that not surprising?”

“But that’s just - I mean - I just wanted to help?”

“It is help they needed. I hear from the Young Master that Mammon is passing most of his classes, albeit barely. Satan doesn’t rage as he did. Leviathan attended a party, and stayed for almost two hours!” A chuckle escapes him. “You have improved their lives immeasurably.”

“Yeah, well -“

“You have also improved my life. Immeasurably.”

The first instinct is denial, to brush it off. Laugh it off. But his dark eyes are still holding yours and you realize, belatedly, that at some point he captured both of your hands in his. This isn’t a moment to brush off. So if he’s being serious and honest, so will you. You drop your eyes, though, because serious and honest also makes you awkward and hesitant.

“And you’ve improved mine. More than I can say.”

He takes a breath, and a small step forward. “I think….the most surprising thing about you is how I feel. I have lived longer than I can truly count, and I had thought I had seen and experienced and felt everything. But I had never loved - until you. I had never even known that I hadn’t loved. And I hadn’t ever feared how empty my life would feel without it. It was truly a surprise to realize how little I knew myself.” One of his hands leaves its hold on yours and you feel the soft leather of his gloves as his fingers wrap gently around your chin. A tiny bit of pressure, and he lifts your head so you can look eye to eye again. “Do you think, MC, you could come to love me in return?”

His face is calm, his eyes steady on yours. So calm and steady, just like his voice, that you could almost think you were just discussing the weather. If it were anyone else, you would suspect a prank. But - and it’s a strange thing to notice - his tail is swishing, just a little. If you’ve learned anything about living with demons, it’s that their wings and tails express what their faces don’t. And that little back-and-forth swish, at least in Satan or Levi, would be agitation, uncertainty.

You feel a ghost of a smile cross your face. “Don’t you already know my answer, Mr. Time Travel?”

“I didn’t look. That would be cheating. Besides….I’d rather you surprise me.”

And so you lean forward and up, Cinderella in borrowed finery, barefoot at the ball, and kiss your prince softly on the lips.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago,” you murmur as you pull back just a little. “And it didn’t surprise me at all.” You look into his eyes, dark and sparkling like the garden. “Is this the moment you needed to find?”

He only smiles and leans down to kiss you again, and you feel his hands on the small of your back, pulling you closer. You’re pretty sure you feel the end of his tail wrap around one of your ankles, but you’re more interested in pressing against his chest, kissing him while the music from the ball fades from your hearing and the dirty wine glasses sit forgotten on their tray.

Suddenly, a sound makes you jump. Fireworks, the traditional end to a Devildom ball, erupt over the garden and lake. The demons inside the ballroom come out to watch them, jostling against you and Barbatos. You find yourself carefully, subtly guarded from them by his body. And instead of slipping off into the crowd as he normally would, Barbatos turns you to watch the fireworks, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You realize, awestruck, after a moment of the display, that the fireworks, all of them, were variations on your favorite colors combined with Barbatos’ signature teal. Tilting your head slightly, you see him smile that little smile as he meets your eyes.

“Surprise,” he murmurs into your ear, and presses a soft kiss against your hair before resting his head against yours to watch the show.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me fluff #my fic #obey me fic #obey me fanfic

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time.

But people had been to see him.

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.”

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up.

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that.

“He’s...knocked out, still.”

Tony raises his eyebrows.

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.”

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.”

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.”

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.”

Tony freezes.

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant...

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things:

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married.

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session.

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation.

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him.

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation.

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...”

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.”

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows.

So he doesn’t.

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it.

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.”

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.”

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.”

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.”

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.”

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.”

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?”

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling.

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour.

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.”

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.)

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin.

Jim doesn’t come down.

Or he did, but he came down early.

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony.

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.”

So Tony does.

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really.

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold.

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life.

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history.

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?”

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.”

“Oh. So we just...I fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence.

“...weird.”

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

“Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.”

Jim laughs at that one.

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?”

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling.

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.”

Jim throws back his head and laughs.

“How did we...how did we become friends?”

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...”

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?”

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.”

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together.

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.”

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says.

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.”

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?”

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?”

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that).

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.”

And Tony can’t breathe.

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything.

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.”

“Thanks, man.”

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically.

“You...what?”

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.”

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.”

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.”

“I’m in the army, right?”

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.”

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?”

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.”

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.”

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private.

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing.

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine.

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it.

But that doesn’t mean...?

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings.

...would there be?

“Hey Friday?” he asks.

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?”

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?”

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?”

“Uh...sure. I guess.”

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on.

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events.

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it.

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-”

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.”

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him.

“What did you do to celebrate?”

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.”

“Someone was with me?”

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.”

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown.

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.”

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.”

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?”

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...”

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.”

“Who is he?”

Tony grins.

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.”

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?”

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet.

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.”

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks.

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.”

“He can think?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.”

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.”

Tony stills.

“You...remember that?”

Jim pauses for a moment.

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.”

Tony throws back his head and laughs.

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?”

“Water sounds fine.”

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat.

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over.

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile.

“Thanks Jim.”

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.”

Tony looks at him for a moment.

“But is that what you want?”

Jim pauses.

“Yes. For now.”

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.”

Jim nods.

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.”

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.”

He lies awake in bed that night.

“Hey, Friday?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?”

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.”

“Are you being paid to say that?”

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.”

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.”

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.”

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.”

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.”

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath.

Right there.

Right on his left hand.

A wedding ring.

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring.

On the left hand.

That wasn’t there before.

Shit.

#i'm going to post this on ao3 too #but hehe :) there is no resolve to this :)#rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhodey #tony stark #also yeah :) the jim and rhodey dichotomy :)#pepper potts #you get no solution from this (for now)#tony is. suffering.#and rhodey? oh my dearest darling he's suffering but in a whole other way

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack, smut. explicit.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch, oral (f receiving), fingering, enough sweetness you’ll get cavities.

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~8400

part iii.

JUNGKOOK’S HOTEL ROOM Sunday, 3 May, 2020. 12:20 AM (LA), 4:20 PM (Seoul).

There’s nothing quite like the feeling after a show. How it crowds cavities behind his molars and sets his heart off on a marathon, exhilaration colouring his cheeks and stealing his voice. It’s something he’ll never get tired of - all the best parts of this journey presented on a silver platter.

Still, he thinks talking to you might be a close second.

“I can’t understand a single thing you’re saying,” you chide, playfully, with a mouthful of granola. It crunch crunch crunches in his ears, blocking the sound of his own laughter, ringing and half out of breath.

“I said I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy. Things have just been—” Crazy? Out of this world? Some kind of wonderful? “—hectic.” He all but throws himself across his bed, the luxurious hotel sheets soft against his still overheated cheek. It feels nice but steals the strength of his voice, muffling his words as he continues, like a runaway train with no destination in mind.

You laugh at him as you always do, mirth sprinkled over teasing like little treasures to be found among the vowels and consonants. “It’s fine , Jay.” The name - not his name - rolls off your tongue, dragged out by the giggles you can’t help. “I know you’re a busy guy. Don’t worry about it.”

Easier said than done, Jungkook thinks. You’ve been on his mind every day, in between the practices and the performances. A silhouette shaped like you - not that he knows how you’re shaped - existing in the recesses of his thoughts.

“Anyway, I finally stopped losing SR so it’s not all bad...”

He doesn’t register what you’re saying. Not at first, anyway. But when he does? He’s belligerent, the loudest shriek rocketing out of his chest as he dissolves into laughter. So you were a little bit better than him. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, sandbag.”

Your mockery shouldn’t have the dumbest smile spreading like wildfire but it does, the expression eating up every ounce of his exhausted self. He can’t fight it, glee working itself every which way until he’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his jaw aches.

“You’re mean,” he manages in between the teeth-numbing joy, chest heaving.

He’s certain you don’t mean it the way he takes it. “And yet you love it.”

God, if only you knew.

He wants to tell you so badly - wants to shout it from the rooftops until he’s blue in the face and without a voice. He thinks he’d have a chance, maybe, if your passed secrets at midnight and tender goodnights were any indication.

But he can’t, because he’s him and you’re, well, you, and really, it’s just his fault.

“Did you die?” You steal him out of his reverie, tearing him wholly from inside that overthinking head of his. It’s one of the things you’re best at (other than keeping him alive in Overwatch).

He sighs and it’s a wistful sound, softer than any other that’s passed between you since getting on the phone fifteen minutes ago. “I’m good, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? I thought I might’ve lost you for a second.”

The playfulness has returned, rounding syllables in a way that’s very distinctly you.

“Yes, Mom .”

“Watch it or you’re grounded, young man!”

“Do you even know how old I am?” Probably not, because he doesn’t know that about you either.

For all of the secrets you’ve shared, these very basic pieces of information are ones you’ve never exchanged. They’ve always been held tightly to the chest, held hostage behind sharp gates of enamel. There was too much at stake when it came to these identifiers.

Sure, you’d told him about your greatest fear - losing one of your parents without being able to say goodbye - and sure, he’d told you his - not being good enough and letting the people he loves down even when he’s trying as hard as he can - but your ages? Where you grew up? Your real names? That was out of the question.

“Are you about to tell me you’re sixteen? Have I been friends with a high school student this whole time?” You’re chuckling at your own genius. He really doesn't think you’re that funny - low hanging fruit and all that - but he likes the way it sounds, curling out of your mouth like smoke.

“I’m actually twelve . Geez, get it right.”

You gasp, scandalized and as if you really believe him. It makes him choke on his own spit and he has to roll over onto his stomach, effectively trapping his phone between his chest and the bed as he struggles to regulate his breathing.

“I’ve always wanted a little brother!”

It’s a joke. Obviously , it’s a joke. He shouldn’t take it seriously.

And yet he’s fueled with the need to rebuff it, speaking before he has a chance to stop it, the words coming in a flurry. It’s a verbal snowstorm, locking the conversation in place - like Mei’s ultimate except he’s trapped in it, too. “I have something to tell you.” There’s no going back now.

For once, you’re not tearing holes in his confidence - not that you ever do with any sort of animosity. Your relationship was equal parts give and take, honey and vinegar coexisting in perfect harmony.

When Jungkook doesn’t immediately continue, you give him a little push. “Spit it out, Jay.”

“My name isn’t Jay.” A small, insecure part of him worries that that’s enough to shatter the careful friendship you’ve crafted. You - Jinny, the ineffable - remain surprisingly silent. He’s not sure whether that’s encouraging or disheartening. “I… haven’t really been honest with you.”

Already he can feel the nervous energy in his limbs, anxiety replacing the high he’d been on only an hour ago.

“I’m…” How does he start? “I’m not just… some guy.” Okay, that sounds bad. He’s backtracking. “I mean, I’m a guy. I’m normal.” This is going so poorly. His breath catches in his throat, teeth worrying incessantly over the soft cherry Chapsticked contour of his bottom lip. “I’m just not, y’know, your average guy. I’m actually like, uh...”

Jungkook has never stuttered this much in his entire goddamn life.

“My name’s Jeon Jungkook and I’m the golden maknae of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

It comes in such a rush that you probably don’t hear it clearly. He’s introduced himself this same way for over half a decade and even it sounds strange to his ears.

When you don’t respond after what feels like an eternity, he’s left to his own devices, filling the silence with the erratic beating of his heart.

“Jinny?” It comes smaller than he means it to, uncertain and filled with hesitation. Still, nothing. He wants to toss himself off the 37th floor balcony so he doesn’t have to feel this way. “Can you say something?”

Your voice is far more measured than his own. You’re trying to be serious, he thinks. “I… kind of - sort of - already knew?”

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

“I mean, the other members don’t exactly knock before they barge into your room screaming your name.” A beat. He can hear the laughter that’s threatening to knock your words into submission. “ And you posted a cover of a song I sent you.”

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit .

That was definitely his fault. It’d just been so good - living in his head and in his heart rent-free. “ Never Not’s a good song!” He retorts, like that’s an appropriate rebuttal.

“I know, doofus.”

“You’re the doofus!”

The two of you were back, glazing over the revelation like it was nothing more than a little bump in the road.

“Thank you for telling me, though.” He imagines you’re smiling - can practically hear it in your voice. Somehow, it feels different. Sunnier than usual, blinding in its intensity. “I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

“Would you have been mad if I didn’t?” Though he asks, he’s not sure if he’s ready for the answer.

“Of course not.”

“Really?”

You’re only a little exasperated when you reassure him. “Of course not. You’re still you - no matter what you do.”

Whatever best case scenario he’d imagined doesn’t hold a candle to this. He’s a million miles over the moon. You must be able to tell because he can hear you stifling sound, trails of laughter buzzing around in his ears like hummingbirds.

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’ ? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” There’s no venom in your words. “You’re still you, Jay.”

“It’s Jungkook.” There’s that unabashed need to hear his name. He hopes it isn’t too obvious.

“I know but that’s gonna be hard to get used to.”

“Is your real name Jinny?” He’s always wondered.

“It’s Yoojin. Jinny’s just my nickname.”

“Well, Jinny—” He says it dragged out and silly. “—want to come to one of our shows?”

“I live in Seoul.”

“So what?”

The second time sounds exactly like the first. He snorts. “I live in Seoul .”

"I’ll fly you to Osaka.”

It’s the first time he’s heard you genuinely shocked. It strips the usual mischief from your tone, draping it in lily white and baby’s breath. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He doesn’t think he’s wanted anything more. At least, not in a very long time.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

It sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

KYOCERA DOME OSAKA Thursday, 23 July, 2020. 10 PM.

Does he smell bad? Should he have showered first? Would you be grossed out?

These are all the thoughts running through his mind, chasing themselves in circles like a dog after its own tail. They revolve in a neverending merry-go-round, creasing worry into his brow and dropping his mouth into a little O-shaped pout.

“You ready, Jungkookie?” Jimin’s doing what he does best - draping himself across his maknae’s shoulders without a care in the world.

“Are you nervous?” Hobi’s swiping through his phone, dark hair a stylishly dishevelled mess around his angelic face. He’s still got traces of makeup around his eyes and his clip-on earrings glint under fluorescent light.

A hand lands hard on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle in a way that’s meant to be reassuring. “Of course he is.” Namjoon can read him like a book, shooting Jungkook his signature smile in the same instance he receives one.

“I’m not nervous!” The youngest chirps in a voice that warbles like a baby bird.

Everyone laughs at that and he can feel his ears burning around the edge of his baseball cap. It creeps over the shell and down his neck, descending blossoms of colour into the collar of his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you get going?” It’s Yoongi that reminds him of the time, the rapper only barely cracking an eye open as he taps the face of his steel-cased Audemars Piguet. He’s right.

Jungkook jolts out of his seat, scrambling to his feet - all four thousand dollars of his designer boots - and nearly knocks Jimin off the back of the couch he’d been precariously balanced on. The overeager bunny shouts an apology that’s lost amongst even louder laughter as he tears out of the room.

He’s going to be late .

He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so fast in his life - darting past bicycling seniors and tourists with all the grace of a boy in love. He somehow manages to find the entrance of the BIC CAMERA store without much hassle, rooting himself just left of the door when his phone screen registers 10:30 PM.

A little triumphant whoop! presses into the sponge-like material of his facemask in the same moment he catches sight of a waving hand.

He’s not sure whether it’s the mask or the sight of you that’s making it hard to breathe.

“Hi.” You sound exactly like you always have and yet six months of hearing your voice somehow doesn't prepare him for it. It hits him like a ton of bricks, crashing his resolve into the soles of his feet. There’s something about you that makes him squint - like staring directly at the sun. His heart stutters in his chest. He thinks, dimly, he can hear bells in the distance. It’s probably from a food stall, but he doesn’t care.

It’s the first meeting he’s always dreamed of, wrapped up in an adorable pink Cooky headband.

He’s scooping you into his arms before he can think better of it, twirling you around like the princess you are. It probably isn’t appropriate - you’ve only just met - but he can’t resist. You feel so good in his arms, weightless and yet entirely grounding.

The fact that you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, easily reciprocating his onslaught of affection, doesn't go unnoticed. He tucks away this knowledge into the sleeve of his shirt for safekeeping.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You’re back on your two feet, black military boots of your own on solid ground once again.

Standing so close, he can smell your perfume. Its notes of vanilla and cola and something powdery, reminiscent of babies and home. You’re smaller than he imagined, with narrow shoulders and wide hips. Like him, you look to be about 95% leg, faded blue denim hugging your thighs and falling loosely around the tops of your Doc Martens. Your top is long-sleeved but semi-sheer and he can make out what he thinks are inkings over your skin, little trails in greyscale and colour that draw his stare.

Stop being weird , he tells himself when he finally manages to refocus, tearing his gaze from the jasmine branches that traverse your limbs and training it on your eyes instead.

Bad idea, Jungkook.

He’s lost in the colour of your irises - an impossibly dark brown that twinkles under the awning lights - and the heart-shaped turn of your jaw. He’s all too distracted by the high contours of your cheeks, the turn of your button nose, the dusty pink that fills the shape of your mouth and fades prettily against your skin.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” The way your lips move should be a chargeable offence. They coax into a smirk that’s equal parts soft and vexing, singular dimple presenting itself with the motion.

God, he’s so in over his head. He can feel it in his bones.

So he laughs - because that’s what he does when he’s unnerved - and the sound is a pack of hyenas. It’s Lion King on Broadway, sweeping above the already boisterous cacophony of the entertainment district.

“Your laugh is even better in person.” You’ve said better and not worse and even though he’s a little self-conscious - a decidedly not Jungkook-like thing to be - he preens from the praise.

“Yeah?” Can you see the hearts in his eyes? He imagines they’ve replaced his pupils.

“Yeah. But don’t let that get to your head, mister.”

“Already has - sorry.”

You laugh in sync and it’s music to his ears - the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

The two of you fall into your routine in a way that feels effortless, the back and forth banter rivalling that of best friends.

You tease him mercilessly, picking up on all his little idiosyncrasies - how he stands at stop lights, pigeon-toed and adorable; how he jams his hands into the back pocket of his jeans in tandem with the tips of his ears burning bright red; how his laugh sometimes trips over itself and splinters like a kid going through puberty. He doesn’t mind any of it, truthfully, because it means you’re paying attention to him just as much as he is you.

Because he sees all of your little habits too - watches them unfold before his eyes in technicolour. You bite your own lip when you think you’ve said something particularly funny. You wiggle your head on your shoulders like a bobblehead when he says something snappy, equally biting remarks softened by the way you bob up and down. You don’t step on cracks, even if it means you’re straining those strangely long legs of yours to carry yourself a few inches further.

You don’t have any patience - something he’s known since the beginning - but that he realizes with a front row seat when you’re shoving a takoyaki into his face. There’s steam curling off it and the smell is intoxicating but he can practically feel the roof of his mouth burning when you’re relentlessly offering it to him. You’re not even deterred by the fact that he’s got a facemask on.

“Open up!”

Jungkook wants to say no - should say no, for the sake of his own health - but he accepts it anyway.

It sears white hot pain the moment it lands on his tongue, teeth buzzing uncomfortably as he bites into the dough. He’s sucking air in through his teeth, the cold barely doing anything to alleviate the sting. He probably looks stupid as hell.

Of course, you’re laughing at him, lips curled in on themselves as you try to choke back the sound.

“Too hot?” You coo, feigning surprise. You do feel a little bad - he can see it in the flex of your jaw, how your bamboo stick-wielding hand lingers in the space between you. “My bad.”

He chews once, twice - tries to keep it to a minimum because holy shit , does it hurt - before swallowing. It burns on the way down. “You eat one now.” He’s pushing the tray towards you, long fingers curled around yours as he all but tries to make you face plant into the plate.

“I don’t like squid,” you deadpan, lying through those neat white teeth of yours. You’d literally made takoyaki at home a few weeks ago. He’d dared you to put an entire wasabi ball into one and you’d done it.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

So it goes for the rest of the night, trading insults over street food. You share an ice cream-filled melon pan - well, he orders one and you eat all of it but a bite - and you scroll through your phone as he inhales a bowl of ramen. He catches you taking a picture of him when he’s halfway through slurping noodles into his mouth like a Hoover. You look a little sheepish when he swallows and levels you with a look that screams unimpressed.

“Is this okay?” You’re a little uncertain and it’s the cutest thing he’s seen all night, teeth catching your bottom lip. He wonders, briefly, what it’d be like to do that to you instead.

You beam when he reassures you. “Of course.”

“I won’t post it anywhere.”

He wants to tell you that’s okay, too, but he knows he shouldn’t. Instead, he simply returns your smile and goes about finishing his bowl of broth. You take a few more photos - of his face when he’s full-belied and satisfied, of the street where people mingle and mix, of the stupidly big moving crab sign across the way.

He wonders if you can feel it too - the connection that crackles between you like a livewire.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you return your attention to him in the same instant he’s glossing over the shape of your lips, the turn of your nose. “I’ll pay you back.”

Before he realizes what’s happening, your hand is on his. You don’t do very much, simply allowing your palm to rest over his, fingers curled around the seam of his thumb. It’s so much smaller - complete with neatly manicured lilac nails - that he stares down at it for a beat too long.

You start to pull away - he sees it happening almost in slow motion - when he flips his own, catching your wrist in his grasp. “No need,” he mumbles, not quite looking at you. He’s still too focused on the way your hands fit together like two puzzle pieces.

“We’ll see about that,” you return, equally as soft.

Everything feels a little fuzzy, like you’re wrapped up in cotton candy and cloud nine.

You must feel it too.

But then you’re standing and you’re not holding his hand any longer and he thinks maybe he’s imagining it all over again. It leaves him heartsick, reaching for your figure that’s already too far away.

“We should head back - I have an early flight tomorrow.”

Damn him and his poor planning skills. He should’ve booked you something later in the day. Why had he thought the 9 AM departure was the best idea?

“Right.” He lifts himself off of the wooden bench, returning his facemask to its rightful place as he closes the distance between you in four easy strides. He tries to ignore the way you smile at him when you’re back together, matching pace through the somehow still-packed streets.

There’s no playful ribbing now. The schoolyard mockery is replaced with a comfortable silence that sinks into his bones and brushes his hand against yours every time you have to squeeze past a gaggle of people that just won’t move. It’s familiar without being boring, satisfying the big fat crush that lives in his heart.

It settles even further when you do the same, head gentle against the curve of his shoulder.

“Did you have fun?” He finally asks when the familiar silhouette of the Conrad Hotel comes into view, your driver rolling to a complete stop right in front of the impressive glass structure.

You hum something that sounds like yes as he pays and thanks the driver in the softest Japanese before he ushers you out of the back of the cab. You’re smiling at him, heavy-lidded and with a tenderness he doesn’t expect. You must be tired.

“More than I’ve ever had.” There’s a certain truth to your words, whether it’s from your sleepy state or something else. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to,” he reminds you, guiding you past the concierge with a palm on the small of your back. It’s intimate in a way he’s not really sure is appropriate but you don’t seem to mind, all too happy to be herded around like a baby duckling.

“Stop saying that.” There’s no weight behind your words - only sandman’s dust and starry-eyed affection. Jungkook’s heart plays a staccato rhythm in his chest as he steps into the lift behind you, crowded against the far right wall. Mozart would be proud.

Trapped in the small six by six area, his breath seems too loud. The roar of his pulse in his ears is deafening. He barely hears his own words when they stumble out of their own accord.

“I like you.”

Your laugh is the sweetest he’s ever heard. “I know.”

“You do?” He rounds on you in the same breath, your body mirroring his subconsciously.

“Of course I do.” You’re so confident he absorbs a little bit of it, stepping closer when you do. “I’m your safe place - and you’re mine, too.”

His hands are shaking when they crowd your face, thumbs gentle over the jut of your chin. “Can I kiss you?” Spoken like a child asking for a Christmas gift, full of wonder and hope.

“Hm.” The vibration of your sigh is felt through his fingers all the way down to his toes.

He decides for you, closing the distance with a roll of his shoulders.

Kissing you is unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. It’s better than his wildest dreams. It’s soft and sweet and done with the utmost care, like you’ll break if he isn’t careful. You taste as good as you smell - the citrusy tang of your lip gloss reminding him of Lotte World lemonade and picnics on the Han River.

“I’m sorry.” It’s an unnecessary apology that gets lost against your lips - because he isn’t quite ready to let go of you yet. “I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re forgiven, I guess .”

When you speak, it’s kissing in its most basic form, mouth brushing over his with each enunciation. He wonders what it’d be like to have you sing a song for him like this. He decides he wants to find out as soon as possible. Needs it like he needs air - or more of you. Either or.

“Thanks.”

You laugh together and kiss again and again, repeating the motion like overeager high school students behind the bleachers. He grazes your forehead, pressing sweetness into the tops of your eyelids and you return the favour, sweeping delight over the sharp turn of his jaw and over skin not hidden by the collar of his button-down.

You’re so involved that you hardly notice when the lift doors slide open, revealing the empty hallway of the 33rd floor. You break away first, though it’s not without some resistance - both his and yours. He wants to keep you here with him as long as he can, because it feels like where you belong .

“I’ll see you.” A last kiss - lingering, longing, littered with words neither of you say.

And then you’re gone.

JINNY’S APARTMENT Saturday, 5 September, 2020. 2:45 PM.

You live in a nondescript apartment in a nondescript neighbourhood with trimmed hedges and a crisp white exterior. There’s a doormat - grey, a little frayed at the edges, polka-dotted - and nothing else. No sign on your door, just the number 134 stamped on the right-hand side, half a foot away from the window that looks into the open-air hallway.

You answer the door on the first knock, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like you’d been lingering just behind the frame, waiting for his arrival. Your hair’s shiny and freshly washed, damp at the ends where you haven’t wicked all the moisture away. You look comfortable - if not a little overexcited - bouncing from sock-clad foot to sock-clad foot in your low slung sweatpants and oversized tee shirt. He can see half a dozen plants just behind your bobbing head, his gaze bouncing between pretty ceramic and terracotta pots.

“I half expected you to live in a PC bang,” Jungkook states, drole and with that trademark grin of his, nose scrunched and eyes waning.

You counter him easily. “You haven’t even been inside. Maybe it’s all a front.”

He snickers at the thought, stepping over the threshold once you’ve taken a step back. It smells like cinnamon and sugar - he wonders if you’ve been baking - and he peers curiously around the apartment.

“It’s a candle,” you supply before he has a chance to ask, reading the question in his stare.

“You mean you didn’t bake me a cake?”

You offer an extended scoff in place of an answer, rolling your eyes as he unlaces his boots. “What for? Your birthday’s already passed.”

“It might not have.”

“It literally has. I know your birthday.”

Right. Because he’s him and that’s sort of common knowledge.

He chuckles to himself as he sets his boots aside, right beside where yours sit, near identical. He doesn’t need to say anything when he hears you sniff, Rilakkuma-tipped sock nudging his hand away from where it threatens to upend the piece of footwear.

“I had them before I met you.”

“Right.” It’s too easy to tease you - just as it’s too easy to rib him. This is how the two of you are. Schoolchildren with big crushes and near zero emotional maturity.

“Do you want a tour or are you just gonna be some weirdo with a foot fetish?”

He meets your stare then, both of your expressions ice cold. If looks could kill .

You crack before he does, though your laughter melds together like a perfect harmony, ricocheting off the art-covered walls.

“Fine, fine. Show me around.”

So you do - with gusto and great pride. It rolls off you in waves, tangible in the cascade of your hair over your shoulder and the way you beam up at him. You’re like a kid at show-and-tell.

You guide him into the living area - a small space with a comfortable, worn-in grey couch and probably more throw pillows and blankets than is strictly speaking necessary. There are framed pieces on the wall and it’s the contents that surprise him. There’s Mercy playing pool, bent over the table in a revealing Playboy bunny one piece; there’s D.Va in a hoodie and little else, bottles of soju littering both the back and foreground.

Where the walls are bare, there’s other stuff taking up the space. Artfully positioned floating shelves house succulents and cacti. A well-cared for Monstera sits in a far corner, taking up more space than it probably should. Nestled among its soil are little Animal Crossing Amiibos - Cyrus and Reese, to be exact. There’s an all-white cabinet with a glass front and some of the most random stuff he’s ever seen: limited edition Gunpla, a Taiko Drum, and your framed university degree (for accounting, to his great surprise).

“Is that a Widow bobblehead?” He spies it last, sitting on the cabinet that houses an impressive array of gaming consoles. You even have a VR headset, the cords neatly looped together and tucked away beside a maneki neko-shaped piggy bank.

“Maybe.”

“You really are a dork.”

“Says the bigger dork? Really?”

He could dispute that - easily - but he doesn’t, instead shrugging it off as he flops onto the couch, feet immediately kicking themselves up.

“What’re you doing?” You join him even as you ask. He’s a little disappointed by the polite amount of space you leave - just enough that you’re not touching.

“I’m tired.”

“I haven’t finished the tour.”

“Tour schmore .”

You scowl at him and it’s so charming that he wishes you were just a little closer. He’d kiss that look right off your face if it were up to him.

“What do you want to do then?” Where the stuffed animal comes from, he’s not sure. It’s more than a little ratty, soft brown fur faded from what looks like years and years of love. You hold it tight, clutched to your chest as you recline against the far arm.

“Watch the Runaway and Lunatic-Hai show matches?”

You level him with a look that very much tells him he is the bigger nerd. He doesn’t mind, though. He’s been wanting to watch these matches for months since it was first announced.

Unfortunately, you’d promised each other you’d only watch it together, so really, this was your fault.

You must suddenly remember that, because you’re biting back the words he’s sure were about to tear into him, swallowing them whole as you grab your PS4 controller and begin silently navigating through YouTube. He smiles, a little triumphant thing he knows you can see from the corner of your eye.

“Happy?” Resentment mixes with excitement as you return your controller to its rightful home and settle yourself once more against the too-many pillows.

“No.” Jungkook worries for your neck when you whip to look at him, brow furrowed and mouth blown out in a pout.

“Why not?”

He memorizes the way you look right now, framed against sunlight that spills through your windows and hugging what he assumes is your childhood teddy bear. It’s an immediate serotonin boost.

“Because you’re all the way over there.” He sighs, long and loud, head swinging in a dramatic semi-circle. He can hear you snickering despite yourself - could pick it out in a crowd of thousands, he thinks - and suddenly you’re beside him, distance closed in a heartbeat.

With you so close, it’s hard to think, his thoughts jumbled and tripping over themselves.

“Better?” You must know the effect you have on him, because you’re batting those goddamn eyelashes up at him, mouth dancing around his favourite sound in the world.

“Much,” he hums, unashamed.

“Welcome home, Kook.” The way you say it sparks fireworks in his chest. He knows you mean home as in the city of Seoul, but it feels like more and he likes that - just like how he likes you and this little piece of normalcy.

It feels good to be here with you, seemingly without a care in the world.

It’s distinctly different from anything he’s used to - even better than the long hours spent bonding on the internet. There’s no worry here, no nagging in the back of his mind, no concern that one of his hyungs will burst into his room. It’s just you and him and commentary on his favourite game.

That is, until it’s just him and commentary on his favourite game. He’d lost you somewhere along the way, roughly three hours in. He hadn’t noticed at first, far too focused on the big brain plays unravelling across the screen, but when you started snoring, he knew.

You just snored so damn loudly.

“Jinny.” He feels bad when he has to rouse you, the feeling in his right leg but a distant memory.

You don’t move. He wonders when the last time you slept was.

“Jinny,” he repeats himself, a little louder this time. There’s the beginning of stirrings, your head drifting from its position on his shoulder to nestle into the crease of the couch cushions. “Do you want me to take you to bed?”

It doesn’t immediately dawn on Jungkook how that sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that,” you mumble into the woven fabric, half-asleep.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You’re doing that thing you do when you’re impressed with yourself, teeth littering your bottom lip with indentations. It’s more distracting than it should be, paired with those bedroom eyes he’s not certain you’re in control of.

Get it together , he scolds himself. In his mind, the angel powerbombs the devil into submission.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“No! Not yet.” You’re waving a boneless wrist in his direction, like you’re swatting away an irksome fly. It’s cute, in a frazzled sort of way.

“You want to sleep out here?” He knows you don’t - you’ve complained about it enough times when you wake up with kinks in your neck and soreness in your back.

“No!” A huff puffs out your cheeks, blows your grown-out bangs away from your face. You’re sitting up now, slowly but surely. There are creases all over your face - an ode to the couch. He has to keep from laughing right at you - bites it back with a bitten tongue when you sniff and card a hand over through your hair. “I have a gift for you.”

You say it so sweetly, he can’t help himself.

“Is it you?”

He’s honestly not sure what to expect once he’s spoken. He half thinks you’ll laugh, shove him away from you with a giggle and a roll of your eyes. He hopes you won’t, though - can feel every fibre of his being strung tight with anticipation and hope and the request of please, love me .

“Do you want it to be?” You’re looking at him with the strangest expression. He can’t read it at all, despite how easily he normally does. It’s white noise, static on a television screen.

Uncertainty grips him. “I do.”

“Then I’m yours.”

It’s music to his ears - the key to his heart. It strips away the doubt, turning it on its head.

He finally does what he’s wanted to for the past four hours.

When he kisses you this time, it’s different. It’s urgent but not rushed; he takes his time in exploring the softness of your lips, how they fall open under his careful ministrations. His mouth slants, coaxes you to give everything to him as his tongue passes tentatively over yours. You taste like lemons again - and a touch of honey.

It’s intoxicating and addictive and he chases the high it gives him, large hands finding purchase against the back of your head and the slope of your jaw. Fingers thread through your hair - gentle at first, then with more purpose. He maneuvers you how he needs you and peppers kisses everywhere he can reach. Your eyelids, your nose, your neck.

When he ghosts his mouth across your shoulder - mouthing hot over the soft cotton of your shirt - and finds that particular point where your pulse beats, you gasp.

He’d thought your laugh was his favourite sound but he realizes now how wrong he was.

“Do that again.” You say it together, in perfect sync.

Laughter blooms between you and he muffles his against your throat, nosing over where your perfume lingers most. He inhales once, twice, and holds you somehow closer, all but dragging you into his lap. “You’re my dream girl, you know that?” The words are surprisingly sweet, given the compromising position you’re currently in.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You thread your fingers just as he has, twirling through his just-on-the-right-side-of-too-long strands.

He moves to pull away, a scoff building in his throat, but you’re having none of it, capturing his lips the moment he’s made up his mind. You really could read him like a book. He wonders what you’re thinking now, starts running through possibilities when you bite down just so on his pouting bottom lip.

A not-so-subtle hint to get out of his own head.

“Stop thinking,” you hum, lending your voice to his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he returns in kind, tracing an apologetic tongue over the seam of your lips.

“Show me how sorry.”

You sound positively sinful and while it isn’t the answer he’d expected, it stirs something within him - from his chest to somewhere decidedly further south. He stifles a moan, caging it behind bared teeth as he becomes suddenly far too aware of how you’re making him feel.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was made for you.

“It’s fine - I have self-healing.”

It’s so fucking dorky but somehow, even that makes Jungkook groan. “Seriously - dream girl.”

And then he’s kissing you again and again, a devoted parishioner of your church. They’re this-side of innocent at first, little pecks that dot every sliver of available flesh. His hands roam in tandem with his mouth, flitting beneath the cropped hem of your top before gliding greedily across the tops of your thighs.

“Can I get the rest of the tour now?” He looks like the devil himself, all dishevelled dark hair and that heart-wrenching, lopsided smile.

You’re impatient though - always have been. “Straight down the hall. Last door to the left.”

It’s all he needs to know before he’s on his feet, rising with you as if you were featherlight. Your ankles lock around his waist, clinging to him like the cutest koala he’s ever seen. He doesn’t look away - frankly, can’t – as he follows your directions, gaze trained on your eyes and your lips and the column of your throat he wants to see blooming with roses.

“I’m crazy about you,” he announces, suddenly, as he nudges open your bedroom door.

“I know.” You say it a lot. He wonders if you really know.

By the way you kiss him, he thinks you might have an idea. It’s not enough, though. He wants to show you - needs to show you.

You allow yourself to be tossed upon your bed - soft grey sheets, no stuffed animals in sight, too many pillows again - and he hovers above you, curious. “Are you sure you know?” The question is punctuated by the drop of his knee, cotton of his black joggers a stark contrast to the soft linens.

You’re not sure if this is a game - he can read the question swimming in your eyes. “Maybe?” You’re upspeaking, which is something you never do. It’s disarming in a way that makes him want to hear it again, but with his name over and over.

“Maybe?” He echoes, brow quirked and mouth twisted into an expression that starts butterflies in your stomach. It’s like a switch has flipped. For the first time, he’s the heartthrob you’ve seen on stage, the one fansites rave about with fervour. A force to be reckoned with . “Let me make it clear then?”

It’s spoken like a question, though it begs no answer. You’d give him anything he wanted.

“Can I?” You don’t think you have it in you to respond - not when he’s looking at you the way he is, from behind dark lashes and with the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. But he needs an answer - won’t go further until he has one.

“Yes,” you breathe in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own, far too airy and mellifluous.

He looks like a kid who’s had his heart’s greatest wish granted. There’s unbridled joy spilling into every crevice, streaming out of every pore as he lowers himself onto the bed. You’re trapped beneath him - knees situated comfortably on either side of your legs - when his hands find the shorn hem of your shirt, tugging gently at the offending article of clothing.

“Off,” he says simply. It’s gone before you can think twice. Your sweatpants and socks follow in quick succession - he snorts a laugh when he has to tug your socks off by the ears on either side of your ankles - until you’re left in only black cotton that covers hardly anything at all.

Jungkook sighs a sound that shoots straight into the belly of the beast, sparking warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He sees the uncertainty in your eyes, hands reaching to cover the places you’ve been self-conscious about since you were old enough to understand what bullying was. The modest swell of your chest, the tiger stripes along your hips.

Words are fitted with motion, hands of his own sweeping your arms away from your body. Long fingers curl easily around the dainty turn of your wrist. “Please don’t hide from me.”

You can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.

“Tell me about these?” He means your tattoos, of course. They’re intricate works of art that span nearly a quarter of your flesh, painting grayscale and colour over cream. There’s the jasmine he’d spotted the night you met, coiled around your left forearm and up to your bicep in stark ink. Across your stomach, from the top of your right thigh and over your ribs, are intricate peonies in shades of pink and red and green. Everywhere lines bloom, etched forever into your skin, his mouth follows. He can’t ingrain himself in the same ways but he tries, searing devotion in the form of kisses.

It tickles when he ghosts over your ribs with both tongue and teeth and it’s absolutely indescribable when he catches your nipple between enamel.

You make that sweet sound he so loves - a heady mix between a gasp and a moan - and he repeats the motion. You hardly realize he’s speaking when he does it for the third time and adds nimble fingers to pinch and pull the other into the same pebbled state.

“ Tell me.” He sounds like he’s laughing, trapped halfway down your body with his cheek pressed to the modest swell of your chest.

You’re not sure how you get the words out. “My mom’s a big gardener. She calls me her flower.”

“Her flower, huh?” The question is muffled among your humble cleavage.

“Did I stutter?” That earns you a sharp tweak to your nipple, the pain shooting pleasure through your limbs in a very unexpected way. You’ve never been one for pain but the sight of Jungkook staring up at you, head cocked and hands full - well, there’s a first time for everything.

“You want to be nicer to me,” he states solemnly, like he’s commenting on the weather or the 6 o’clock news and not palming your tits in his much larger hands and drawing out the sweetest murmurs of encouragement.

“I am nice to you,” you retort - or try to at least. You hardly get it out before it’s chased out by another one of those lovely sounds that Jungkook seems to be obsessed with.

“ Nicer , baby.”

As if to drive his point home, he straightens out, face suddenly dangerously close. He crowds you with his entire frame, mouth finding yours easily. It’s not the same sort of kisses you’ve shared all evening; it’s a display of dominance, a reminder that articulates more than he can say.

It’s also a distraction, you realize belatedly, with a gasp tearing its way out of your throat.

Capable hands have found their mark, digits sweeping beneath the seam of your thong. He lingers just shy of where you desperately want him, expertly trailing featherlight touches through your folds. He never goes further - doesn’t stretch where you need him most. He’s careful not to brush your clit, focusing instead on the way you’re coating his fingers.

The shit-eating grin never leaves his lips - which never leave your mouth. He swallows your whines in the same instant he’s pulling them forth, playing you like a fiddle without even really doing anything.

“Can you do that for me?” He coos against your neck, that damned voice of his dripping liquid gold into your ears.

You have to focus hard on what he’s saying because his touch is so distracting. “What?”

“I said—” It stings where his mouth connects, where his teeth nip and spill wine over porcelain. He’s painting the prettiest pictures, signing his name in the form of broken capillaries. “—can you be nice to me?”

You’d like to respond - really, you would - but he punctuates the question with the glide of his finger and you can’t do anything but arch into the sudden intrusion. It feels so good and yet isn’t nearly enough.

“Kook.” You’ve never sounded this whiny in your life. Even his name - one single syllable - hardly makes it past your lips without descending into a cry.

“Use your words , angel.”

If every nerve ending didn’t feel like it was on fire, you might’ve yelled at him. Instead, you can hardly form a coherent thought. You’re too far gone, standing on the edge of a cliff as he teases you open with slow, measured pumps of his wrist.

“I need—” He’s crooking the single digit within you, right against that spot that makes you see stars.

“What do you need? Ask nicely.”

“M-more. I need m-more .” A hiccup. “Please.”

“Like this?” You’re empty all at once and then suddenly far more full, the stretch of two fingers stealing the breath from your throat. “Or like this?” The pad of his thumb finds your clit with ease, sweeping over the sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, three times. “Maybe like this?”

He repeats his earlier movements, curling his knuckles in a come hither motion that has you sobbing out his name.

“That’s right.” Ever the gentleman, he works you through your high, watching your face in rapt fascination as your first orgasm of the night crests and crashes over you, sending shockwaves through your system. He admires the way your mouth falls open - full lips rounding in delight - and how your eyes screw shut.

You’re the hottest thing Jeon Jungkook has ever seen.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your temple, never ceasing the slow drag of his fingers, the carefully measured flick of his thumb. Even when you’re trembling with oversensitivity, he doesn’t relent, choosing instead to reposition.

His weight is gone as he settles between your legs, knees folded beneath him. He only pauses his needy actions - almost doesn’t, when your hips roll in an apparent attempt to draw him back in - to strip you of your thong, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder.

“Give me another, okay?”

You aren’t given a chance to answer before he slips two fingers back where they belong and seals his mouth over your clit. The coil he’d snapped earlier returns, tension increased tenfold as he alternates between sucking hard and licking, dragging his tongue over and around his fingers. There’s too much stimulation. You’re obscenely wet and you’re certain you’d be making a mess, if not for the careful way Jungkook’s devouring you whole, licking up every bit of slick.

“Kook. Jungkook .” His name sounds like heaven coming off your lips. He replays it over and over in his head as he fucks his fingers into you, tapping a brutal rhythm against your g-spot. He can tell you’re close again - can read it in the way your jaw tenses and your breathing goes erratic, lungs heaving.

“Come on, baby. Let go.” The second orgasm hits harder, arching your back off the mattress as you fight to keep your knees from snapping shut. You come with a hoarse cry, legs trembling like a leaf with the effort. “That’s my girl.”

He’s upon you again, this time crowding your space as he settles all one hundred and fifty pounds of himself beside you. He anchors you in reality, preventing your boneless body from floating off by pulling you against his chest.

“You did so good.”

You accept his kisses readily, somehow managing to thread your arm around his neck despite the fact that you feel like you’ve just run a marathon.

Being wrapped up in his embrace is like being home - warm and familiar.

“I want you.”

He laughs and you can hear the sound rattling around in his chest. “You’ve got me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You sound a little petulant, like a child being denied their favourite toy.

“I know what you meant,” he retorts, squeezing your bare hip affectionately. “But you’re also exhausted, so get some sleep. Patience is key, remember?”

You pout up at him with your messy bedhead and sleepy eyes and he almost gives in right then and there. It’s nearly impossible not to, especially when you drag your hip across his, your ankle hooking his in a bid to bring the two of you somehow closer.

He doesn’t expect you to relent so easily but your yawn outs you, forcing itself past the cage you’re trying - and failing - to keep closed. “Fine.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You better be.” It’s an empty threat - you both know he won’t leave. “I still have to give you your present, anyway.”

He feigns surprise then, snickering quietly. “You mean it wasn’t you?”

You don’t have the energy to yell at him, so instead you dig your bony fingers into the vulnerable underside of his ribs. He squirms away from the feeling but never really goes far.

“It’s a Mercy bobblehead, you butt.” You yawn again, shiver running the length of your spine as you snuggle more closely against his side once more. Jungkook tugs your duvet up around your shoulders, tucking you in tightly. The action reminds you of why you’d bought the gift in the first place. “I think you might actually be my guardian angel.”

notes. the end of an era (and by era, i mean a fic). this honestly turned out to be my baby, so i sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it. i'll likely do some drabbles in the future, because i really, really adore this couple. as always, let me know your thoughts. xo

tag list. @letmebeyour-sun @teawithbucky

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

When We Went From Friends to This - a. beauvillier

One day late, but here it is! I’ve been studying for the LSAT, but finally took it today, so I’ll have some more time to be writing more regularly now. Title is from Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings. I loved getting to write this, so please please let me know what you think, my inbox is always open! Reading the tags is one of my favorite things to do, and reblogs help me know people are liking my work.

word count: 7.7k+

September 18 (sat)

Astride Leclair was the kind of person you always wanted on your side. She’d drop anything for a friend, always be the first to reach out, and would never give up on something — or someone — without a fight. She was also incredibly stubborn. Astride had also always had a penchant for adventure, which is how she found herself in a new job 600 miles and one international border from her hometown. And she hated asking for help, it really didn’t matter the circumstance. Which is how she found herself alone, trying to heft an armchair up the stairs of her new apartment building after being very rudely informed by the width of the elevator door that it wasn’t going to fit.

The lump sum her firm gave her for relocation was enough to cover a fair amount of the furniture for her new place and she tried to bring as much as she could on the drive down, but it wasn’t like she was about to rent a U-Haul and there was only so much a Honda Civic could hold. And Astride was still her father’s daughter, still would rather step on a rusty nail than pay Ikea for assembly, so by God she was going to do it herself. And “doing it herself” apparently meant dragging an 80 pound box up three flights of stairs in 90º heat in September, when New York City seemed to have not quite yet gotten the memo that the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was now in fall.

Astride finally managed to get the chair in the door, propping the door open with one of her moving boxes, unceremoniously pulling the box through the entryway as she scooted backwards into the living room. The 600 square foot expanse of her apartment was covered in boxes, more boxes, and for good measure, extra boxes. There were moving boxes, furniture boxes, shoeboxes filled with anything except for actual shoes. There was her guitar leaning against the microwave, three suitcases worth of clothes in the barely-assembled bedroom, and her dog in a crate in the corner, who had started to whine.

“I know, baby, I’ll get you out soon,” Astride said, shooting a sympathetic glance towards the beagle mix. She had adopted Poutine a little over a year ago, soon after starting her first job out of university. It was never a question whether or not she would make the trip with Astride, and thankfully it was much easier than she anticipated to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t too long a walk to Prospect Park, a little under a mile, and she was looking forward to getting out with Poutine later in the day. If, that was, she actually finished unpacking enough boxes to function like a normal human being. She had picked up her mattress-in-a-box earlier in the day, but it was still sitting in the corner of her bedroom and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on the hardwood floor.

---

Three hours later, Astride had finally gotten all of the boxes out of her car and began to make decent headway on assembling the chair, finally having let Poutine out of her crate. The beagle trotted around the apartment, sniffing the baseboards, boxes, and single bag of groceries Astride had picked up from Whole Foods earlier in the day. The rest of her Ikea order was coming the next day, the actual bedframe and couch along with a couple of other larger furniture pieces that she had had to leave in Montréal. Whatever she couldn’t order online she’d find at a thrift store.

Astride looked tiredly over at the kitchen. She really wasn’t in the mood to cook, and was in even less of a mood to dig through all the boxes until she finally found her set of pots and pans. She really should have taken her mom’s advice and labeled everything, but Astride was stubborn as a mule, and once she was stuck in her ways, there was precious little anyone could do to convince her otherwise. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to her Uber Eats, feeling a tiny pang in her heart as she switched her location to New York. Not the language, though. Astride was so hungry that she literally clicked on whatever place could get there the fastest, which ended up being a Chinese place a mile or so away. After placing her order — she got an extra box of chow mein so she wouldn’t have to deal with breakfast the next day — she settled back into the hair, the only fully-assembled piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Her finger hovered over her Instagram for a moment before she clicked on it, liking a few photos before going to post one of her own. It was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as she crossed it that morning, Poutine’s head lolling out the front window. One tap and one caption later, it was posted.

---

Anthony flopped onto his bed, his duffel landing with a satisfying thump on the floor beside him. Training camp had just ended, and while he’d certainly been keeping up on his workouts over the summer, the hours upon hours of skating had nevertheless made him more than a little sore. He grabbed his phone, opening up Instagram and scrolling through the new posts, only half paying attention. Astride’s new photo caught his eye.

Sometimes, needing a change means a new haircut. Sometimes, it means a new country. Very excited to start this next chapter in my life. Salut, New York! Anthony quickly clicked onto her profile page and read her bio. International economics analyst. Eating my way through the world one pancake at a time. BCom McGill. MTL-NYC. He read the last line over and over again. MTL-NYC. He swiped back to the photo; she had tagged herself in Brooklyn. Brooklyn. She was less than an hour away, not even thirty if the traffic wasn’t bad. But she hadn’t told him, she hadn’t said anything. Anthony felt a pang in his heart. Astride knew who he played for — obviously — and she knew that of course he’d want to see her any time they were even remotely in the same place. She knew that. Right?

He spent the next twenty minutes typing out a message to her. Then deleting it. Then retyping it. Then continuing the type-delete-retype cycle until his head was spinning. This was his best friend. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Because she was his best friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. Hey Asty! He internally cringed at himself at the use of her old nickname. I saw you moved to New York, that’s amazing! I’m over on Long Island, so I’d love to catch up with you for coffee or something when you get a chance. It’s been too long :)

It might have been a little petty — scratch that, it definitely was petty — but Astride didn’t respond to his text that night. She didn’t have read receipts on, thank God, but it sat in her messages, without response, like something she was too scared to confront. And she didn’t even know why. Okay, fine, she knew exactly why. She had moved and suddenly they were in the same city for the first time since they were kids and he was, had been, her best friend, but why now of all times? It’s not like he was never in Montréal during the year, or like they couldn’t have committed to a weekly FaceTime or something, or at least texted more than once a month. He could have done something. And that something, that lack of a something, was what kept her from responding until the next morning, tapping out a text as she halfheartedly made her way through a bowl of oatmeal. Hi, Tito, just saw your text! Lie. I did, an opportunity for a transfer came up and I decided to take it. I figured you were pretty close by, so it would be great to catch up. I don’t start at the office for a week, if you’re free any time between now and then. That much was true. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the Islanders played on, well, Long Island, and as much as she wanted to still hold a grudge against him, her heart ached at the prospect of finally being able to see him again.

Anthony responded almost instantly, Astride having just closed the door to the dishwasher — a luxury in New York, she was told — before seeing her phone light up with the telltale bubble. I’d love to, we just finished up training camp so I’m more or less free aside from practices. A second later. Is brunch still your favorite meal?

Astride laughed. It didn’t surprise her that he remembered, but it was still touching to see him say something about it. It is.

How about Tuesday? I’ll send you the directions. It’s this little café in Flatbush, I think you’ll love it.

I’m counting on it.

September 26 (sun)

Brunch had turned into dinner, which had turned into going to a Broadway show — Anthony had insisted the moment she told him she’d never been — which had turned into him coming over for Saturday night movies, an old habit of the pair’s from their days back in Québec. Which had turned into two movies and two bottles of wine, which had turned into Tito sleeping over on the couch instead of driving the thirty-odd minutes back to his apartment. Poutine sniffed him curiously, nudging one hand with her head. Astride stifled a giggle, opening the door to the balcony. “He’s very sleepy, Poutine. It’s not good manners to wake up your guests.”

“Even when they fall asleep on your couch and steal all your blankets?” Anthony said sleepily from behind.

Astride wheeled around, greeted by a half-awake Anthony Beauvillier, who was indeed bundled in all of the blankets she owned that weren’t actively on her bed. “Tito! Oh my God, you scared me. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, about as well as can be expected.” He tapped his phone, cursing when he realized it was dead. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced down at her watch. “8:52, why?”

Anthony jumped up, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his still-dead phone. “I’m supposed to meet Mat for breakfast at 9:30, and the place is,” he paused for a moment, running through the grid system in his head, “probably half an hour away? I’m never the late one, can’t break that streak now.”

“Gotcha.”

He grabbed his keys, looking back at her. “Why don’t you come? You’re already dressed, and you remember Mat, right?”

She wiggled her hand. “Kind of?” She crossed the room, letting Poutine back in. “You only want me for my charged phone and navigation system.”

“You got me,” he said, laughing.

---

“You named your dog Poutine?” Mat snickered, taking a bite of his eggs.

“Would you rather I named him Tim Horton?” Astride deadpanned. “He’s a good Canadian boy with a good Canadian mom. He needed a good Canadian name.”

Mat raised his coffee mug, tilting it over towards her. “Touché.”

Anthony waved his hand in front of Mat’s face, trying to catch his attention from where he was utterly preoccupied with destroying his sourdough toast. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mmm?” He glanced up.

“Did you know that Astride lives right by Barclays? Like, right by Barclays?”

His eyebrows rose. “No way?” Astride nodded. “That’s a great area, would have been awesome if you were here a couple of years ago. Short walk to the games.”

“That’s what I told her yesterday,” Tito responded.

---

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said, looking up at her building, then across the street to Barclays, then back to Astride, one hand tangling through his hair. “We used to play right across from here.”

Astride laughed. “I thought about that,” she said. “You know I still watched your games, right? Even after we fell out of touch?” Anthony shook his head. “You were still someone I cared about, are still someone I care about, even when we only talked a few times a year.”

Beau stood there, unable to formulate a complete sentence. As far as he knew, the last Islanders game she watched had been the 2016 opener, his NHL debut and her first year at McGill. Why did he assume that? Why did he assume the worst? You can care about people even when they’re not in your life anymore. And sometimes, if you get really, really lucky, they come back.

October 9 (sat)

“Ebs is having a barbeque thing over at his house this weekend, just stuff to celebrate the beginning of the season if you wanted to come. No pressure if you’ve got plans already, though,” Anthony said over the FaceTime.

Astride nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds great, I’d love to come! Just let me know when to show up and what to bring, and I’ll be there.”

It was almost a fifty-minute drive for Astride from her apartment in Prospect Heights to the house in Garden City, but there wasn’t too much traffic and besides, she had always liked driving. So she set off in her Civic, plugged her music in, and headed down 495. Anthony met her outside of the house, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as he cocked his head towards the backyard. “Party’s this way. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Astride dutifully followed, trying not to let her nerves take hold of her. Everyone might have already been Beau’s friends, but she didn’t know them, or the dynamic of everyone’s relationships, or really, what to expect at all.

He noticed her apprehension, stopping her with a feather-light touch on her arm just before walking through the back gate. “Hey, Asty. What is it?”

She let out a little huff, still upset that he could read her like a book even after all this time. “I’m just worried that I’ll feel like I’m intruding on everything, like everyone already has their friends and a group and everything, and here comes some random Québécoise who’s a friend of Tito’s—”

He laughed, turning her around to face him. “Astride, they’re going to love you. As long as you’re the hilarious, witty, caring person I know you are, they’re going to love you as much as I do, and you’re going to fit in just fine. Do you trust me?”

She gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good, now come back, everyone’s waiting.”

They walked through the gate, greeted by a crowd of smiling faces as Anthony brought her around to everyone to make their rounds. There was Anders, he was the captain, and his wife. There was Jordan and Lauren, and she already knew Mat, and JGP — who was excited to have another person to speak French to — and a dozen or so others, along with their respective partners and children. Anthony had gone over to talk to Mat and some of the other players, while Astride had wandered over to the drinks table. Some of the other women were chatting nearby; one of them caught Astride’s eye and waved her over to join them.

“Beau didn’t tell us he was bringing anyone!” one of the women said, pulling her over to the group with a bright smile and handing her a glass of sangria.

“Mhm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m new to the city, obviously, so I think he wanted me to have some people I know outside of just work.”

They all nodded. “How long have you two been together, though?” another asked. “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone, did you?” She looked around at the others, who shook their heads as Astride’s eyes bulged.

“Together? No, no, we’re not together. We’ve been best friends for ages, but,” she shook her head.

“Could have fooled me,” Lauren said with the smallest of winks.

Astride suddenly became very interested in the floating berries in her sangria. She looked over at Anthony, who was throwing his head back, laughing at something one of the rookies had said, and smiled. But Lauren’s words kept lingering in the back of her mind. Could have fooled me. Okay, it wasn’t like it was the first time they had been mistaken for a couple; whenever she’d make the trip up to Shawingan to visit him when he was in the QMJHL, more than once she’d have to explain to his teammates that no, she wasn’t Beau’s girlfriend, they were just best friends who had known each other forever. Just best friends.

Astride had always equated her lingering feelings for Anthony to the nostalgia of a childhood crush, the safety and security that came with remembering something from a time that seemed so simple and so easy. But childhood crushes didn’t last for ten years. And that wasn’t something she hadn’t wanted to come to terms with, something she’d been putting off for years if she was being honest with herself.

“You didn’t tell me Astride was coming,” Mat commented, seeing her mid-laugh in conversation with the other girls.

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have any plans for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to introduce her to everyone. I remember how shitty it felt to be in a new city away from your family, don’t want her to be lonely. Plus, I genuinely think she’ll fit in great with everyone.”

Mat hummed his agreement. “She’s changed since Switzerland, don’t you think?” he asked appreciatively, referring to over five years ago, the last time he had seen her in person.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beau mumbled to Mat, seeing his eyebrows go so far up they were hidden in his hairline.

“I see a hot girl, I appreciate a hot girl,” Mat shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I know she’s off-limits.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quicker than she would have thought, and after a few hours and more good conversations, it was time for Astride to leave. “Have a safe drive back,” Anthony said, giving her a hug.

“I will,” she responded.

He opened the driver’s side door for her. “I’m really glad you came, you know. Everyone liked you, you fit in great.”

“It wasn’t all me,” she said, sliding into the seat, turning her head to Anthony to continue the conversation. “Everyone really did seem to go out of their way to make me feel included, I think they understood the feeling of moving to a whole new place without a big support system and wanted to do what they could to help mitigate that for me.” Astride consciously left out Lauren’s little comment, four words that had been bouncing around in her head for hours since they had been said. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know, it could confuse him and complicate things when they were just getting back into the rhythm of friendship, of being each other’s person.

Anthony tapped his fingers on the car door. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

Beau went to sleep that night, Mat’s words bouncing around in his head. “I know she’s off-limits.” It’s not like Cass was his sister or something, someone who would inherently be barred from his best friend’s dating pool. But Mat seemed to know right away, without having ever been told, that she wasn’t someone he could ever even consider pursuing. Why? And what did Mat seem to know that he didn’t?

November 12 (fri)

It was early November, and Anthony and Astride had just settled down at a table in Prospect Park, coffee cups warming their hands through the late fall chill. “How do you feel about last night?” Astride asked teasingly. He had a three point game, two goals and an assist in a 4-1 win over the Canes, so there really wasn’t any question that he was still riding on the high.

Beau rolled his eyes. “Good, obviously. It would have been nice to get a hat trick, but I know that’s asking for a lot and I didn’t want to tempt fate too much. They made a really good push late in the second.”

“But you won,” she said, poking his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her mocha.

“But we won,” he agreed. He suddenly got quiet, the kind of quiet where, if you know the person well enough, you can tell that something’s up. That they’re thinking of something. And Astride was right. “Do you ever think about Switzerland?” he asked.

Astride looked at him from the side, knowing right away that he wasn’t asking about the country. “All the time,” she admitted.

---

It was the spring of 2015, and they were in Lucerne. By they, Astride meant her, Tito, and the rest of the 2015 Canadian U18 World Cup team. And by in Lucerne, she meant crowded into someone’s hotel room with no adult supervision. Anthony wasn’t sure where any of the coaching staff had gone, but if he was being honest, he was riding on way too big of a high to even care. They had clinched the bronze medal earlier that day, celebrating with the family and friends who had made the trip out, gotten dinner, and then packed into the first team room they came to. Well, technically, Astride, Tito, and Mat had made a stop at the grocery store before meeting everyone else back in the room. The drinking age in Switzerland was 16 for everything but spirits, and everyone was planning on taking full advantage of that. The cashier gave them a look as she took her and Anthony’s French licenses and Mat’s English one, but the charge went through just fine, and fifteen minutes later they were walking back through the doorway with three cases of beer and a few bottles of sparkling wine for good measure. Astride had never been so grateful to have her own checking account.

“You ever drink before?” Mat asked her as they opened the cases.

Astride shrugged. “Not really. A glass of wine every now and again back home with my parents, but nothing too crazy.”

He held out a bottle for her, fishing around in his pocket for the bottle opener they had picked up at the store. “Have fun.”

And have fun Astride did. She had finished off two of the beers, and one of the younger teammates — she didn’t remember who — had popped open the wine. In his slightly inebriated state, it took longer than it should have to twist off the muselet, which then led to foam all over the floor and fifteen sixteen and seventeen-year-olds running to the bathroom to grab towels to try and mop it up with. And then running back to the bathroom to get the water glasses because they needed something to drink it out of, right? And then to everyone else’s rooms because they quickly realized that two cups definitely wasn’t enough to go around, and then everyone was back in the room, on the beds and around the beds, finally letting themselves celebrate. Astride was just finishing her glass when Mat spoke. “Anyone up for never have I ever?” Nobody said otherwise, so two minutes later, they were all arranged in what could very generously be called a circle, fresh drinks in hand. After a solid five minutes of repeating the rules — there was always at least one person who seemed to genuinely struggle with the idea that you drank if you had done the thing, not if you hadn’t — they were slowly but surely making their way around the circle.

Questions ranged from the mundane — “Never have I ever gotten detention” — to the raunchy — “Never have I ever had my parents walk in on me” — neither of which Astride or Tito drank to.

By the time it was Mat’s turn, he had had plenty of time to think, looking around the group with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Tito asked skeptically.

He shrugged. “Never have I ever...kissed anyone in the circle.” As expected, nobody drank, but apparently that wasn’t expected, not for Mat, at least. He looked between Anthony and Astride incredulously. “Seriously? You two have never kissed?”

Anthony shook his head. “Nope.”

“How? You’ve been friends for, like, a million years, not even when you were little or anything?” he asked.

“Never,” Astride said. “Kind of hard to kiss your best friend when you haven’t kissed anyone before.” She barely even realized that everyone was still listening in.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Anthony asked, surprised.

Astride looked down at her hands, sipping her beer. “Nope.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but no. Just hasn’t happened yet.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was feelings buried so deeply in Anthony’s mind that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day, let alone have to be confronted, that made him say what he did next. “I could—if you wanted—you don’t have to, but—” he stammered.

Astride laughed, looking at him curiously. “What is it, Tito? You’re not normally one to stumble over your words like that.”

He picked at his fingernails, an old nervous tick from his childhood that his mother was never quite able to get him to break, keenly aware that the whole room had decided to listen into their conversation. “I was just trying to say...I could do it, if you want. Kiss you, I mean. If you just wanted to get it over with, or whatever. I just figured. You know me, you trust me, you’re comfortable with me. Better that than some idiot at school who doesn’t care about you.”

Her cheeks burned as she looked over at him, but even though it took her nearly a minute to respond, she had her answer after five seconds. “Why not?” Astride flashed him the purest, gentlest smile, the kind that let him know just how much she cared about him and how deeply she trusted him. And the look on her face meant the world to him.

Anthony leaned in, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, his fingertips just barely touching her cheek as their foreheads leant together. “You sure about this?” He needed her to be sure.

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I never imagined my first kiss would be in front of an audience,” she paused to giggle at the rest of the team, who were giving the scene their full attention in a way that somehow wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just wholesome and supportive, “but yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all the permission Anthony needed to lean forward, pressing his lips against hers, in a kiss that was soft and sweet and somehow everything Astride needed all in one. He pulled back after a moment, a goofy smile on his face. “How was it?”

Astride couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Good, it was really good, Tito. Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?”

---

“Friends are for kissing each other, apparently,” Astride giggled, leaning into Anthony on his couch.

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over her arm. “Did you ever think something was going to happen between us?” Anthony asked curiously.

Astride shrugged. “At some point, yeah. I think it was kind of hard not to, with our parents and literally everyone we spent time with saying we were destined to fall in love.” She looked down at her hands, trying not to give away the fact that at one point, she had believed them.

November 30 (tues)

“Do you want to come over Friday?” Anthony asked, sprawled out across her couch on one of his rare nights off. He had made the drive over to Astride’s apartment, cooking salmon and roasting vegetables while she took the much more daunting task of picking what to watch on Netflix. She settled on Back to the Future. “I can order in Thai, I know we’re trying to work our way through the Mission Impossibles.”

Astride grimaced. “I actually...kind of have a date Friday night,” she admitted.

Anthony made a hum of surprise. “You do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Tito. There are men in this city of nine million who want to take me out.”

He sputtered. “It’s not that that shocks me, Asty. You’d have men lining up around the block for you if you’d give any of them a second glance. It’s just that. You never seem to bother actually going after any of them. What made this one different?”

“I mean, honestly hour?” Astride said, shrugging.

“Honestly hour.”

“I haven’t been on a date since I left Montréal, you know that. It had been a few months there too. And I’ve loved hanging out with you more, getting to know Mat and the team and everyone’s partners, but...I needed something different, too. Something that felt like a part of my life that wasn’t directly connected to the team. Which, don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, “I love them, and it’s been so nice to be a part of that group, I just…” Astride trailed off.

“You can’t let that be the only part of your life. I get it,” Anthony added helpfully.

“Yeah,” Astride agreed. “So enter Cole. He works in a different division of the IE department, I’m obviously Europe and he’s Asia, mostly does work with Taiwan and Singapore. Um,” she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling, “he seems really nice, did international business at UPenn, which is a great program. Speaks fluent Mandarin, uh, I think he mentioned he’s got a few fish at home.”

Anthony snorted. “What’s wrong with fish?” Astride asked defensively.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong with fish,” he said. “Just seems like an odd choice. Maybe his building doesn’t allow pets or something.”

“Maybe,” Astride responded. “I wouldn’t know, he lives in Manhattan, over in Tribeca. Bikes to work.”

Tito laughed again. “I don’t trust people who bike to work in New York City, Asty. They have zero regard for their own lives or safety.”

She giggled. “That might be true. But I’m looking forward to it, the date, I mean. I really am. It’s been a while since I’ve really put myself back out there, and I’m ready for something good. Something real.”

He gave a half-smile from his side of the couch. “I’m happy for you, Astride. I hope you have a great time, and I hope he treats you right. If he doesn’t, just let him know that you can sic an entire professional hockey team on him with a single phone call.”

“I will,” she said. “I’ll call you when it’s over, tell you how it went.” “

I’ll be waiting,” he said.

Anthony thought back on the conversation as he sat on the corner of his bed that night, about to go to sleep. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, his eyes fixating on the chip in the crown molding that he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. He wasn’t lying to Astride when he said he was happy for her. He was, of course he was, who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? But while he wanted nothing more, nothing more, than to be able to give his full-throated support for her date, and the potential the future held for her and this Cole guy, he couldn’t do it. There was something stopping him. And the worst part of it all was that Anthony was starting to realize what it was.

---

Astride had said that their dinner reservation was at 7, some brasserie in the West Village. “That’s a French thing, right?” Cole had asked.

“It is,” Astride responded, gearing up for her translation skills to be used for the first time in months. She spoke almost exclusively French around Tito, and with JGP and Brassard, but the majority of her day was spent in English. Cole said that the restaurant had come highly recommended from one of his Wall Street friends, something that should have been the first red flag.

“Never trust the finance bros,” Reese, a German specialist and one of her friends at the office, had said. “They all think they’re God’s gift to mankind when I can guarantee you they ain’t shit.”

She had said it was at 7, so Anthony wasn’t expecting to hear from her until much later; honestly, he would have been surprised if she had called before 10. He tried not to think about what it could mean if she didn’t call at all that night. She had said it was at 7, so when he heard a knock at his door at half past nine, he practically jumped out of his skin before scrambling to open the door. His eyebrows rose when he saw Astride on the other side of the door, then his face contorted into a look of sympathy as he saw the sad smile on her lips, her jacket slung over one arm.

“Can I come in?” she asked. He nodded without question, holding the door while stepping out of the way. He padded to the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of Moscato and two glasses. Astride smiled gratefully at him as he uncorked the bottle and poured. He knew that she couldn’t do red wine when she was upset, and she was upset.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively.

Astride shrugged, sipping the wine. “Not much to tell other than it was probably the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

That piqued Anthony’s interest. He’d never be happy that she was upset, but something told him the story wasn’t quite that simple. “What about it was so bad?”

“Where do I begin?” she sighed. “He was on time, but that’s pretty much the only thing Cole did right the entire night. He was rude to the waitress when we had to wait all of ten minutes until our reservation was ready, because the couple ahead had gone long. Then he ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine they had, without even asking me to see what I wanted. He really just was trying to show off that he could afford it. And it was a Sangiovese, and you know I hate dry wines, so I was just trying to choke the whole thing down. And then he insisted on ordering for me, which is probably the most chauvinistic thing I could think of, I mean, who does that anymore?” she asked incredulously.

Tito shrugged. It was disrespectful, absolutely, but more than that, it was just weird. If women have mouths that work, then they’re more than capable of doing something as simple as ordering their own food.

“And he kept trying to pour me more wine after the first glass, even when I told him a million times I was good.” Anthony’s grip on his glass tightened. Astride rubbed her temples with her free hand. “He just kept going on and on about work, and this big promotion he’s insisting he’s going to get even though I know for a fact that they want Maria for it. I could barely get a word in edgewise. That’s when I just decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I faked that Jean-Claude was calling, grabbed my jacket, and caught a cab over here.” She looked up at him, the same disappointed expression she had worn when he opened the door. “I was really hoping this one would pan out, Tito.”

He felt an ache in his heart. He may have been less than thrilled about the prospect of Astride going out on a date, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her so despondent. He leaned over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “I know, Asty. And I’m sorry it didn’t.”

December 13 (mon)

Anthony and Mat were the last ones in the locker room after a morning practice. “I found this new place nearby last week that’s got great smoothie bowls, want to get one after you finish packing your stuff?” Anthony asked, looking over at Mat.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Sounds good,” Mat nodded, half-listening.

Anthony glanced over at him, a weird look on his face. “You good, dude? You sound distracted.”

Mat spoke abruptly, looking over at Tito with a laser-focused expression. “How long have you been in love with Astride?”

Anthony’s eyebrows jumped a foot. “In love with Astride? Why would you think that?”

Mat gave him a look, the kind of look that let Anthony know he was dead serious about what he was saying, and more than that, that he believed it. “Tito, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s that obvious?”

“Yep,” Mat said, popping the p.

“Do you think she knows?” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Mat said, shrugging. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to really be able to know about something as big as that and not address it. Doesn’t like to keep things bottled up, it’s not really her style.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s not.” He raked one hand through his haid, his head still leaning on the other one. “God. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with her?”

Mat put one hand on Beau’s back, comforting him as best he could. “I don’t know, Tito. I wish I could help. What I do know,” he said, “is that you’re going to have to eventually. Because it’s going to tear you up if you don’t.”

December 18 (sat)

Astride tossed one final empty can into the garbage bag. “I think that’s it,” she said, giving his living room a cursory look. What had looked like a warzone only less than an hour before now more closely resembled the somewhat-messy but perfectly respectable bachelor pad of a man in his 20s, like it should have. With the holidays approaching, Anthony had decided to take it into his own hands to host a party — alongside Astride, who he had practically begged for help — intent on showcasing his newly-acquired skills by playing bartender the whole night. He was surprisingly capable, Astride had thought, if her Sazerac was anything to go by.

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Asty. And thanks for staying and helping clean everything up, you really didn’t have to.”

She tied the bag off and set it by the door with the other one. “I wanted to. And besides, I’m staying over,” she said, looking over at Anthony, “so what did you think I was going to do? Lock myself in the guest room while you cleaned up the whole apartment by yourself? What kind of a woman do you take me for?” she asked in mock offense.

Anthony laughed, sitting down on the couch with a satisfying thump, pulling Astride into his side when she settled next to him.

“I’m so glad we got back in contact,” she said, muffled against the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.”

He felt guilty; more than that, he knew that the guilt, at least some of it, was deserved. “I should have done more,” he lamented. “I should have done more to keep in contact, more to show you I cared, more so you’d know that your friendship is one of the things I value most in my life.”

Astride gave a small smile. “It’s a two-way street, Tito. Sure, I won’t lie and say that you really put all that much effort into keeping in contact. You didn’t.” He winced, she shot him a sympathetic look. “I love you, but you know me. I don’t mince my words. But I definitely could have done more than text you congratulations or leave a thirty-second voicemail on your birthday. We both could have done more. We both should have done more,” she said, correcting herself. “What do you think happened, though? Where did we go wrong?” As much as she might have hated it, Astride was that kind of person. She went through every bad decision in her life with a fine-toothed comb, needing to know what went wrong, needing to know what she could have done differently.

“I think,” he began, “that it was just so easy to get distracted from ‘back home’ things. From our friendship, from my relationships with my family. From the important things, the things that I should have made an effort to prioritize even when the season got hectic and games got hard. And I’m not trying to make excuses,” he added quickly, “but there was just something about where I was, physically and mentally. I was 19, a rookie in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I think I just lost sight of things. Between the practices and games and going out and community events and trying to get in more than five hours of sleep a night, it was a lot,” he admitted. “It was stressful, probably weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I’m well aware I was — and am — living a life thousands of kids would kill for, but there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that you don’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. I don’t have many regrets from my rookie season, or really many in my career so far. Don’t regret moving for minors, don’t regret going to the Isles, don’t regret any of the contracts I’ve signed or plays I’ve made. Well,” he smirked, “maybe a few. But the one big one? The only real regret I’ve had? Letting you go.”

Astride swallowed hard, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you mean, letting me go?”

Anthony let out a hard sigh. He’d put it off for long enough. He couldn’t do it any longer. “Never telling you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fingers tangling in the fringe of the fleece blanket that was slung over the couch cushions.

“Like I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “How long have you known?”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “Ever since Switzerland.”

“Six years?”

“Six years.” He reached out slowly, so slowly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she didn’t move back. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Anthony spoke again, his voice wavered. “Asty? Say something.”

Astride’s lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I knew since I was 15.”

His face split into a grin, wider and wider until she was sure she’d never seen a bigger smile. “You did? You do?”

She nodded, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering butterfly-fast underneath her fingertips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was, Tito.”

He pushed forward, pressing his lips against hers for the first time since 2015, the first time since Switzerland. It was gentle and meaningful and somehow communicated all of the love and emotion that had been built up between the two of them in the past six years. Anthony pulled back after a minute, his lips pink and slightly puffy. “Tell me where your head’s at, Astride.”

“Is it too cliché to just say that this might be the happiest I’ve been in years?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.” But there was something that she wasn’t quite letting go of. “What is it, Astride?”

Astride sniffed. “I want this. You and I, I want it so mad it hurts. I just hate the idea that we’d turn into some sort of cliché. Childhood friends who grow up and fall in love, but something goes wrong and they split up and suddenly the dynamic of everything is messed up and I don’t want that, Tito. I don’t know if I could deal with you hating me because of how things ended.”

“But things don’t have to end, Asty. Every broken heart, every date where some asshole has stood you up has led you to know that you deserve more. You deserve so much more, Astride, you deserve the sun and the moon and someone who would hang them in the sky for you. It doesn’t have to end in heartbreak. It doesn’t have to end at all.”

Astride had always been someone who was cautious, someone who thought before she acted and never spoke without thinking through every possible outcome. But this was one of the times that she couldn’t do that, one of the times when, as much as she may have hated it, she needed to take a leap of faith. And so she did. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anthony asked, his voice lifting.

She nodded, the happiness on her face unmistakable. “Okay.”

And as Astride and Anthony FaceTimed her parents to break the news, her mom slapping her dad’s shoulder, claiming that she had “called it” back in 2014, Astride was filled with a sense of undeniable, irreplaceable joy. The kind of joy that the poets write about and artists put brush to canvas trying to depict, the kind that most people go their whole lives only hoping to get a glimpse of. The kind that made Astride more certain of one thing than she had perhaps been in her entire life. It didn’t have to end in heartbreak. And this one didn’t have to end at all.

And as they stood two years later in a little church in their hometown, promising in front of their family and friends and the entire New York Islanders to love each other for the rest of their lives, Astride finally believed it.

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