#I h​ad to look up people smoking and hear them talk about their experience

[lonelysucker7]

Cigarettes out the Window

Pairing: Kaine Parker/Louise Kennedy

Summary: Based on the comic “Spider-Man: The Lost Years” (Specifically issue #3). Kaine Parker remembers his intimate time with detective Louise Kennedy and those cigarettes she never stopped smoking.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, drug references

Not proofread. Wanted to make this after I got inspired by a song. Is it a song fic? Not really, but you could feel the references in here. The fic no one asked but the one I needed haha.

Enjoy!

………………………………………………………………………….

Kaine grew accustomed to the smell of cigarette smoke over the years.

Everywhere he walked, his nose caught the scent of burn wafting in the air from someone smoking in a dark corner. Or someone dangling their hand mindlessly out the window with the stick in their fingers as he swinged through the city.

But every once and then on the top of a rooftop, the highest there could be in Houston he would stare up in the night sky watching the stars glow. And its beauty becomes interrupted by the smell of smoke.

Even at the highest peak, it was always there.

She was there. Louise Kennedy.

A blur of memories that came back to him even in his sleep, startled him awake and he gasped her name out. His mind raced and his eyes searched the darkness of the hotel room and found nothing. Heard nothing.

Kaine would check on the sleeping Aracely, making sure she was alright and unharmed. Then he would leave to hang out on the balcony, taking an overview of the city lights go on and off like little flames in the night.

Nothing would beat their glow except the moon, the stars, the sun and a lighter.

In his own silence he thinks back to those many years ago…

………………………………………………………………………….

“Louise, why do you smoke?”

The half dressed blonde woman looks back over her shoulder towards the man on the couch who called for her attention. Her pink lips stretched to a friendly smile.

“They calm me down from my high. Or at least, feed more pleasure to it.”

The man nods a little, processing her words carefully. He thinks back to their shared kisses of intimacy and the tongue in his mouth swirls a little inside, tasting the faint flavor of smoke. It was sweet and sour.

His mind snaps back to reality as the couch sinks a little and the weight of Louise’s body acknowledges her presence. He can feel himself starting to smile as her head rests on his shoulder. He watches the way her lips move around the stick adjusting it to comfort, and her nose exhaling the smoke from there.

The way she does these things, it’s strange and amusing to him almost. But he can’t help but wrinkle his nose a little and lift a hand to rub the smell away. This action catches Louise’s attention and she leans away from him slightly.

“Oh, sorry about that Kaine.” Her hand comes up to remove and burn out the cigarette on the tray, but her wrist is grabbed gently by him. Kaine shakes his head and assures her.

“Don’t mind me ruining your moment. I’ll get used to it in time.” He offers a faint smile to her. Louise smirks a little in return and she nods, feeling his hand carefully pull away from hers. She drags another bit of the cigarette in her mouth and exhales slowly, letting out a soft giggle.

Louise reaches again for her cigarette and she turns to Kaine, raising it up to him. He eyes it curiously, the smoke following its swift trail behind it. Kaine gets the hint she wants him to try it out. With the back of his hand, he pushes it away from him and says,

“No thank you. I… I don’t like it.”

Louise raises an eyebrow, making a face that she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“How could you not like it?”

“Don’t really like the essence of it.”

“So you’ve never tasted it?”

“Never.” Kaine raises an eyebrow as she scoffs in response. She inhaled the smoke again and exhales it with a sigh. She says,

“Everyone smokes here. Am I supposed to believe that easily you don’t?”

Kaine snorts lightly. “I’m not like anyone else.”

Louise rolls her eyes a bit, and she waves him dismissively. She shifts in her seat and amusingly says, “How many times will you go on saying that?”

Kaine shrugs, pushing some of his curls closer to his face almost creating a curtain between him and Louise. He mumbled, “As much as I need to remind… myself.”

Louise sighs a little bit more loudly, and she gets on the couch to sit up on her knees. Her hands trail up to his arm and she leans closer to him. Kaine could smell her perfumed scent mixed in with the smoke, as he closed his eyes when he heard her soft honeyed voice near his ear.

“You're right. Remind yourself that. But let me add that it’s because you’re unique. Much more than anyone else here. You’re my one in a million.”

Louise's warm hands moved around his body, snaking her arms around him. In the gentle embrace Kaine leaned more into her and let himself be comforted. The tension in his body became relaxed and both him and Louise leaned back on the couch together. He rested his head on her chest, listening to the calm heartbeat and breathing of her smoking.

The dark room is silent for a moment as he breaks it with a soft monotone voice.

“I think I’ll try it out sometime these days. Smoking.”

He feels Louise’s hand pat him lovingly on his back. A soft chuckle rumbles from her.

“Whatever you say sweetheart. I’ll be here for your first.”

………………………………………………………………………….

On the night of her funeral, Kaine did everything in his power to avoid attending. But after everything, after murdering her it was hard not to go back. A final goodbye at least.

For the night he crashed (literally) in her apartment. Kaine remembered how he slept on the couch that night, afraid to go to her room and not find her there despite knowing she was gone.

Everywhere the lingering smell of cigarettes and Louise’s sweet perfume held him on a chokehold. The room illuminated with the glow of the moon, keeping him both awake and asleep.

Eventually he walked to the curtains and closed them completely, leaving him and the darkness in each other's company.

Kaine stared at nothing in the darkness as his tears streamed down the sides of his face. No sound was uttered as he cried and he could feel himself falling apart by the minute. So much for being one in a million. At this moment he had wished Louise pulled the trigger of the gun on him.

The weight of her betrayal was still fresh in his mind as her facade fell and became the monster he overlooked. Her twisted heart capable of fooling a love to a monster left him so blind and vulnerable. And yet in his mind he still insisted he was something, anything to her. She did spare him. She really did…And both paid the price for their faults.

Her screams couldn’t leave his mind as she struggled violently to be let go of his hold, her back pushing against his chest. He recalled his nose burying near her hair as he smelled her one more time. And the feeling of her delicate neck breaking and burning in his hands was a brutal reminder of the horrible joy he got from relieving the burden Louise had become to him. The many times he kissed that neck and face he never saw what the outcome would be in the end for those parts.

Now he knew.

………………………………………………………………………….

He left her place the moment the funeral had passed, bothering to clean up whatever mess he left. Underneath the couch he picked out the pack of cigarettes that she must have dropped and become lost.

Mindlessly he shoved those in his back pocket. And checked the place once again. And left.

Atop the buildings he ran and jumped, the rain crashing down to hit him in the face like a whip. Remembering when he first arrived in Utah, the first thing he saw was the graveyard. Not like it mattered to him at the time, only imagining what he would be like dead in one of those places.

For Louise to make it her final resting place was no surprise. How she died could have ended up differently.

He would have preferred her death to be the hand of her own smoking addiction. Get lung cancer once she aged. One where she’d be a dead woman walking.

Living, but dying.

At last he arrived at the graveyard, and he wasted no time walking around each place to find her name. He could have laughed if he realized it should have been obvious which one was hers. Everyone had their own set of flowers, dead and alive.

Louise Kennedy, had none.

Stopping in front of her, he slowly felt his chest swell up with the bubbling feeling of guilt and anger. It was pathetic and almost pitiful to see how her area was completely empty. Maybe she had no family close to her mourning for her. He didn’t sit down on the ground, instead squatting and hunched over as the rain poured down on his head. Kaine didn’t say a word, and just lowered his eyes feeling incapable of reading her name carved on the headstone.

His legs and body began to hurt from the position he was on and he decided to sit in the moist ground. He felt everything soak him up. His face was becoming wet and he couldn’t tell which of the wetness between the rain and his tears were.

Oddly, it was warm.

In his seat he shifted a little as his eyebrow raised when he felt something discomforting from behind his pants. Pulling it out, a shaky breath exhaled from his mouth. His chest hurt even more now that he was holding something very close to the person that once lived: Her pack of cigarettes.

The box was warm in the grip of his hand. Maybe he didn’t bring flowers but he brought her favorite thing. His silence and the soft trickle of rain hitting the ground were present in the background as he kept staring at the box. The edge of his thoughts kept insisting him to do something right now. In that instant an idea popped in his mind. He stared at the ground of her grave and back at the small pack and a startling giggle escaped his lips.

He remembered how he never really tried his first cigarette. She said she would be witness. And here they were: together again. Such a perfect final goodbye for them both. Shaking the box to his ear to listen if there was enough, he gritted his teeth in satisfaction. He turns to her grave and a rough mock in his tone rings out.

“Share a final smoke with me, Louise. You said you were gonna see me. Now watch.”

Staring at the pack he turned it in his hand noting the wrinkles on the surface. He paused when he noticed a faint pink smudge, and dented teeth on the side. The pad of his thumb traced there a little, feeling the small bumps underneath his fingertip. The pink smudge spread slightly to the right.

Lipstick.

Perhaps her hands were busy at the time and must have held the box in between her teeth. Well no more of that now. Shaking the box, two cigarettes dropped out onto his palm and he pulled out a lighter he had found on a nearby counter.

He ignited the lighter to life with a shaky thumb, taking a couple tries to make the spark. The open flame flickered in and out from the rain that crossed its way. Nearing both cigarette tips, they gently began to burn red and smoke emitted from them.

He closed the cap and tossed it aside on the ground near her headstone. With both sticks in his fingers, he shifted in his seat on the ground. He raised one towards his lips, muttering,

“One for me…”

His chapped lips wrapped around the stick, adjusting them comfortably with a small roll.

“…And one for you.”

He stretched forward and jabbed the cigarette in the middle of the dirt as it stared upwards. Sad quiet eyes watched it fight, keeping itself burning, but the weight of the rain was too much. The stick slowly shrunk down in the dirt, unable to keep its shape intact. The faint sizzle of the stick began to wane, the smoke whipping in the wind.

In an instant… The burn was gone.

Too bad.

Now it was his turn.

Carefully he took a slow drag of the cigarette with a pucker, closing his eyes as the smoke of nicotine settled in his lungs. The rich and nasty flavor settled on his tongue like nothing. The familiar taste of her kiss instantly coming back to him and his eyes watered. The rain pattered on his hair heavily, matting down his curls and they stuck on his breaking skin. His breathing ragged a little, already feeling the pinch on his throat and lungs at the same time, and his hands dug the soft earth beneath him.

A haze moved in his mind, almost leaving him in a trance like state. He lolls his head to the side and his eyes read the letters on the headstone.

R…I…P…L…O…U…I..—

“ARGH—!”

Kaine’s body aggressively recoils forward as the cellular degeneration kicks in, and his mouth drops the cigarette onto the ground. His hands reached up to his face, gripping his cheeks as he felt the skin stretch and rip a little apart. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as the pain of smoke in his lungs and throat adds to his trigger. It burned and cooled, like chewing a mint gum and drinking water. He chokes out his tears, coughing out and huffing as much fresh air he can to ease his pain. His sight keeps being blurred by a mix of his tears and the rain.

His eyes keep darting at her headstone, and he shuffles desperately forward quickly pressing his face on the surface of it. He felt the coldness sink calmly onto his skin, wishing for her warm arms to wrap around him. Just like she always did.

Please… please Louise…

The rain kept on and the rumble of thunder came and went from time to time.

The pain eventually left, and he was left in a mess of grime, dirt, blood, and the taste of smoke. Gently he pulls himself away from the headstone and moves back, gritting his teeth feeling his bones shake inside him.

The feeling of wanting to go home ached immensely. But what home? After this what now? Questions he would soon have to respond on his own with any hope he had left. And that was the problem. He hoped too much.

Kaine pushed himself up from the ground, staggering back with a groan. His eye catches the box of cigarettes on the ground, sticks spilled and stained with dirt from his thrashing.

He didn’t know what to do except push the box near her grave and with the heel of his foot, started grinding it down. And he kept doing it and doing it and doing it, a new found rage burning again. He never liked them anyway. He probably never will. His mind rushed in an angry thrill,

I hate you I hate you I hate you—!

“…I-I love you.”

Hurriedly he pushes the dirt and grass onto the cigarettes, burying them and flats it out as if nothing had happened. And he turned away from Louise’s grave, not wanting to look at her again. He walks away with the bitter taste of her cigarette on his tongue. The rain settled down to a quiet drizzle, the peppered stars on the night sky twinkling.

She will never leave his mind. If there was smoke, she would be there.

Always.

#kaine parker #Louise Kennedy #I hope i didn’t make anyone cry #I cried writing this hahah #writers on tumblr #writer #I said “frick hw I wanna do this instead. #No I don’t smoke #Don’t do drugs kids #I h​ad to look up people smoking and hear them talk about their experience #Ik this is the least ship anyone wanted but it’s the one I needed to be explored a little #Angst #death mention tw #tw violence #tw drugs #Oh by experience I mean like how do cigarettes taste like and all that #Smoking has a new meaning to me now #spider man #It’s just only brief in the beginning that’s why and the rest is just what happened afterwards #Did I even explore the relationship? I’m starting to think not really #This fic is NOT canon to the story I repeat it’s just a FANFIC #marvel comics #Also teeny reference to the lovely #aracely penalba #Spider-Man: The Lost Years #Louise Kennedy/Kaine Parker

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!

author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you! 

Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.

His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub. 

And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option. 

Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself. 

Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-

Ping!

This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device. 

Ping!

It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-

He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it. 

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after. 

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder  he has just to keep track of stock. 

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?.... 

Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please! 

Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?

She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.

The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling. 

Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.

Harry: I’m outside

Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…

Y/n: Be right there!

All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks. 

An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her. 

She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication. 

Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard. 

“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.

Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.” 

“Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”

With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-

He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”

“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate. 

“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders. 

His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…

He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce. 

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.

At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?” 

And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.

“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.

The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon. 

“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.

He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”

The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.” 

Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?” 

Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.” 

“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do. 

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.

Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings. 

Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside. 

“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice. 

There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?” 

Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked. 

“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?” 

She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow. 

“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.” 

Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-” 

She was having a bad trip. 

Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground. 

But his next thought cowed him.

If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this. 

He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”

Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.

“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket. 

 With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”

“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was. 

“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response. 

“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots. 

There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.” 

She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to. 

“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them. 

“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.

“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this. 

She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”

“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.

“Yeah,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him. 

“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”

“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings. 

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

***

On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay. 

Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out. 

Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles. 

Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name. 

He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face. 

Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.” 

His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.” 

Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset. 

Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.” 

“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-” 

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.” 

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 

Realization dawned on in. 

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 

 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 

“Does it, baby?” 

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 

#harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

[poppinisperfection]

Peter Maximoff x Reader // Hello, Monica // WandaVision // Part 2

Part 1

Post Dark Phoenix X-Men & WandaVision fanfiction. FemReader and Peter Maximoff dating when he suddenly disappears.

Xavier returns and a plan is formed.

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: Emotional distress, mentions of violence, blood, gun wounds etc.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

(Y/n) sat by the screen, her vision blurring and bags forming under her eyes. The analog clock ticked with each second as Hank fiddled around with some tech, and the others sat on the floor half asleep. They had eventually contacted Xavier, and he promised to travel back to New York as fast as possible. That was hours ago, and now it was the middle of the night.

There was nothing they could do, even discussion led to nowhere; nothing about the situation made sense. Metal crashed on the floor, causing Scott to Jolt awake and Kurt to bamf in surprise as Professor McCoy gave a frustrated grunt at his clumsiness. The disturbance didn't phase (Y/n) though, as she read the line for the thousandth time,

"Please stand by."

She was somewhere between breaking into tears and punching every wall she saw. In short, (Y/n) was desperate. After hours of thinking, she finally allowed her eyes to close for longer than a short blink. Her mind was crashing around like a restless ocean, and she found herself drowning inside endless possibilities. But at the centre of it all was his face, his smile, his voice... him.

Suddenly the doors opened with a whoosh, and (Y/n) turned her attention towards whoever was entering the labs. A determined looking man wheeled in, locking with (Y/n)'s blood-shot eyes. An alabaster-haired, umber-skinned, and confident woman followed him; shooting a look of concern towards the group.

"Xavier-" Hank exclaimed with some relief at the Professor's appearance. The bald man gave a small hum in response, but he continued to near (Y/n) instead of making conversation. He placed a hand out and gave her a kind look.

"May I?" he crooned in his English accent, as the (h/c) lady nodded and placed her head forward. Closing his eyes and placing two fingers on her temple, and another on his own - Xavier began to see the whole story, without anyone saying a single word. After a few seconds, his pulled back and gave a sharp sigh.

"(Y/n), I am so sorry." the wise man's voice faltered after feeling the gut-wrenching fear that swept through her mind. The worried girl said nothing, but just tried to keep the strength on her face instead of breaking down into tears. "You've got a location?" Xavier turned to the beastly professor, trying to solve the mystery.

"Sort of- I mean, it's unbelievable Charles." he grabbed some pages and handed them to his colleague, "It's like he's traveled to another universe; I've only heard about theories of multiverses, but this- this is more evidence than anything I've ever read..." Hank rambled on, as even Charles Xavier- telepathic mastermind- look on in shock.

Before anyone could say anything, the old computer screen buzzed and the image shifted. (Y/n)'s tired eyes widened as she sat on the edge of her seat. Even Kurt teleported closer in an effort to not miss a second of the developing situation. A lead guitar began to play, and the opening credits rolled...

The group we're unsure if it was the same show, as it looked completely different in style. But their doubts were cleared when that same woman showed up, slamming the door using some sort of powers.

"She's a mutant..." (Y/n) mumbled, as the others looked on in confusion. The opening continued to play on as more characters were shown - most of which they had never seen before. Then finally, a speedy friend appeared.

"As himself?" Scott added, reading the credits. (Y/n) stared at the title and mentally recorded it.

"It's like they're a family." Kurt noticed as Peter integrated himself so naturally with them. The pair of young boys started to monologue about halloween.

"Halloween? This just gets more and more confusing." Scott rubbed his forehead in bewilderment. Ororo stood beside them, barely comprehending what she was watching. She had previously offered to look after the students while the situation was being investigated, and that lost time had undoubtedly caused her to miss a lot of information.

"So Pete's on TV?" Storm questioned in a baffled tone. The silver haired fellow lay on a couch as the twin boys discussed him, and they referred to him as their uncle. "Okay, somebody needs to expla-" she began, but was cut off as Xavier placed a finger to his temple and transferred the information she had missed. Ororo gave a soft gasp, but ultimately was relieved to be filled in. Since the professor had learned about the situation from (Y/n), some of the grief in her mind was passed to Storm; so the loyal mutant placed a caring hand on her friend's shoulder in comfort.

Xavier chatted behind the group of young mutants who watched the show play out.

"She suggested that maybe Kurt could go in, I told her-" Hank whispered to his friend.

"That would be dangerous..." Charles finished his thought, "But dangerous doesn't mean impossible." the telepath looked towards the blue teleporter who stared at the computer screen.

"You can't be serious, Charles." Hank furrowed his thick brows and stared in disbelief.

"Kurt, (Y/n)," the professor called out, catching the pair's attention,

"Come with me."

-------

The small group trailed down the metallic hallway and approached the familiar doors to Cerebro. (Y/n) looked back at the room they had left, still hearing the distant sounds from the broadcast. Her mind travelled to what she was missing; was Peter still okay?

The circular door released and slid open, and the group followed Xavier's lead towards the machine at the end of the walkway. Kurt's tail wrapped around his leg in fear, as he fiddled nervously with his hands. Placing the silver helmet over his head, Charles nodded for the intellectual beast to flip the switch. Immediately, the room lit up and images of people flashed around. A million conversations ran through the professor's mind, but he was only searching for one person.

"Turn it up." Xavier requested as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Reluctantly, Hank did as he said. Soon the voices faded and a only a muffled conversation echoed through the large room. "The whole way, Hank." the british man added.

"Charles that's too mu-"

"Do it!" Xavier demanded his face contorting with the amplification. (Y/n) gave a soft gasp as the voice grew clearer.

"I think mom and dad would've loved it."

Peter's words reverberated, as tears formed in (Y/n)'s eyes. Despite Cerebro being on full power, the only thing that Xavier could access was the detached audio of the mind he was connected to.

"Where were you hiding these kids up til now? I assume they were sleeping peacefully in their beds."

"Can you speak to him Charles?" Hank asked.

"Something's... Something's not right... It's too powerful to see..." Xavier stuttered out, trying not to loose his connection. Peter's voice continued, as the group wondered to who and what he was talking about.

"I'm not some stranger and I'm not your husband, you can talk to me."

"There's something... dark... clouding his mind." the powerful telepath explained, "but he's still in there, somewhere." he added. The group began to notice a purple hue clouding the entire room. The clearer Peter's disembodied voice became, the more the mysterious smoke descended. Kurt and (Y/n) stood back slightly, scared of what it could mean.

"Don't sweat it sis, it's not like your dead husband can die twice."

The sentence rang through their ears, before the whole room erupted in a blast of ruby red energy. It was exactly like the force that 'Wanda' had used earlier. Energy passed through the mutants, as images of terror entered their minds. Fragments of memories flashed; glowing stones, broken families, and piles of ashes.

Xavier groaned with pain, but he kept the connection despite the immense power that surged through his mind. (Y/n) grasped her head and panted heavily. The image of a young man lying cold, bleeding through bullet wounds, on a pile of rubble haunted her. She didn't know who it was, but he seemed familiar for some reason - and her heart broke at the sight of his lifeless form.

"He's slipping... I- I can't hold on..." Xavier cried out through gritted teeth, "I can't latch onto anyone!" the room filled with a booming static noise as the bald man searched though all the available minds in that reality. Hank writhed on the floor, clutching his ears with the horrible sound. Soon he gained the strength to pull a hand up towards the switch and slowly tune down the settings. The din faded, and the only noise that could be heard was the heavy breathing from the group that tried to recover from the experience.

"I didn't tell you to turn it off." Xavier pulled off Cerebro's helmet and placed it harshly on its holder.

"It would've killed you." Hank rebutted, standing on his feet.

"There was something forming, a gap in the reality, I could feel it!" Charles placed a hand on his forehead in frustration, "It's like all the minds were under some sort of deep control - but I could sense other ones... ones that were free."

"But what can we do about it!?" the beastly Professor retaliated, annoyed at his colleague.

"If I can find the free minds, I can see where they are; exactly where they are." Xavier began to ramble, "Then I can show Kurt, and you can get there." (Y/n)'s eyes grew wide at his suggestion. Even though she had considered it earlier, she now began to doubt her logic. If it were just her, then she wouldn't hesitate to risk her life for Peter - but she couldn't ask Kurt to do it too.

"Professor, what if... What if it doesn't work?" (Y/n) piped up, looking to the powerful telepath with concern plastered all over her face.

"We can't risk more of our lives, Kurt you don't have to do this." Hank tried to assure the German mutant.

"Nein." he responded, "Peter is my friend, I vill not leave him in danger. I vill do it." Kurt nodded his head as he stood confident in his decision. Despite the hatred that Kurt Wagner had received his whole life; he was always the most selfless person in the room. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, thankful for his kindness.

"This isn't just about Peter. Somebody brought him there. Somebody, or something, has a power that could change everything we think we know." McCoy warned, trying to convince the group of the dangerous situation.

"Which is why we need to know more." (Y/n) interjected.

"I will be able to communicate with you, as long as you don't go under this person's control." Xavier explained, deep in thought. Hank looked at the trio, and finally gave a deep sigh.

"There's no talking to you people." he shook his head, "I'm sure travelling across the multiverse will be a cinch." his tone dripped with sarcasm as Charles placed Cerebro back on his head.

"Have a little faith, Hank." Xavier joked stiffly as he flipped the switch to the machine. McCoy reluctantly turned the power knob and soon the static noise returned, causing a grimace to appear on everyone's faces. The noise flickered as Xavier passed through more empty minds, searching for one that would work. The sensory overload build up in a crescendo, until everything stopped to a halt.

"Hello, Monica."

#wandavision #apocalypse #dark phoenix #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #xmen #quicksilver #kurt wagner x reader #xmen x reader #marvel #xmen imagine #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff #evan peters #preferences #peter maximoff imagine #maximoff twins #wanda marvel #disney plus #x men #x men fanfiction #fanfiction #charles xavier

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A … Inexperienced

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol' time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 2.1k

Chapter 1: Truth

The night was off to a slow start since you and Daryl had taken watch. The sound of the chain link fence rattling in the wind served as a pendulum in the back of your mind. A chill in the late summer air made the concrete you used as a backrest cool to the touch. Both of you sat against the base of the watchtower on lookout, since the two with the regular shift were on a run.

“Know any games to play to stay awake?” You asked, slumped against a wall, and turning to look at Daryl, who was sitting cross legged, head rested in his hands.

“No,” he replied, “should get some cards or somethin’.”

“Yeah, next time we go into town.”

The night had become dark, no moonlight deciphered the sky from the inside of your eyelids. Time ticked on and before you knew it both of you had fallen asleep.

The rattle of the fence shocked you out of your sleep, and you saw an arm reaching through the fence trying to grab at you. Although a decent distance away, you could still see it’s skin peeled back up to it’s bicep; raw meat dangling behind the wires, so it could fit the exposed bone deeper through the fence.

The growling must have woken Daryl up, because by the time you were standing to go and kill the bloody thing, he had handed you his knife to use. You took it graciously and tiredly walked over to kill it, looking much like a zombie yourself.

Stabbing it through the eye, you could feel the pop of penetration to the skull, and with that it fell to the ground dead, fully dead. With all of its weight moving downwards, the force must have been too much, causing it’s limb to stay on the side of the fence opposite to it’s corpse. You hoped backwards as the appendage reached for your ankle, then shriveled up like the rest of its body.

Returning to your space adjacent to Daryl, you handed his knife back, and sat down breathing heavily.

“You rest, I won’t go back to sleep,” he said leaning on his hip to pull his red rag out from his back pocket. The knife you had used was laying on the ground next to him, beaded with blood.

“No way I’m getting back to sleep, I can hear my blood pounding in my ears.”

“Tell me if you need ta though, ‘cause I’m good,” He said, reassuring you.

You just shook your head and leaned against the wall, propping yourself up with a gun by your side.

You rolled your shoulders back every once in a while to stretch your back. Daryl mindlessly fiddled with a rock that he picked up off the ground. The sky was now dark and all of the stars in the night could be seen. Nothing like this would have ever been possible before. As the stars moved and passed with the coming hours, your tiredness from before seemed to return.

Neither of you had spoken in quite some time, which wasn't weird for you now that you have been taking shifts with Daryl for sometime. At first it was weird doing nothing with him, it was like he wasn't comfortable enough with you to converse, but now you know it's quite the opposite. You guys can communicate by means other than just talking. However, silence needed to be broken if you were going to keep him company until sunrise.

“I miss coffee,” you broke silence, plucking some grass and throwing it past your outstretched feet.

“Huh,” he snickered.

"I don't think I appreciated it before, I don't even remember drinking it that often."

"Don't even remember the last time I had it." He said and spun the little shiny rock he had in his grasp.

“I do,” you said.

He readjusted his position to be facing you holding his knees up to his chest with his chin rested on top. His head tilted down, but his eyes looked up at you to continue.

"Was a date, or not a date, but a meeting. I was out at a cafe, with the TA, for the psych class I was in. And he ordered for us, and after I explicitly told him to get almond milk, he didn't."

"Why?" Daryl asked with conviction.

"Because I'm lactose intolerant and I had to kick him out that night because my stomach hurt so bad." You picked a few sticks up from the ground and broke them into tiny pieces. The stick sprinkled across the ground, and disappeared in the surrounding weeds.

"Didn't mean why are you lactose intolerant, I meant why didn’t he get ya what ya wanted?" He furrowed his brow for a second.

“I don’t know, never thought about it, maybe he’d just forgotten or something. Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t even that good in bed.”

Daryl threw his special rock in the air and caught it swiftly. For just a second it had sparkled in the air, before he held it in his fist like he would never let it go.

“I bet you’ve been on bad dates, too.”

“Nah,” He said and threw his rock across the land and wrapped both his arms around his legs.

“What!? Okay, I guess your fucking perfect,” you said scoffing in a half joking manner.

“No, just didn’t go with too many people.” He mumbled.

“And all of them just happened to be great?” You questioned.

“Never said that,” He tucked his chin under his arms, that still rested on his knees, “I never went on any good ones neither.”

“It’s kinda hard to believe you didn’t date much, I mean, look at you,” you joked, but also couldn’t deny the genuine admiration that he evoked from the people that surrounded him.

“Nah, forget I ever said anythin’. Let’s just go back to sittin’ here.” He turned his head to the side in which the sun would eventually rise.

“No, please, I just came up with a game idea,” you begged.

“Hmm?” He glanced over.

“Truth or dare!” You exclaimed, failing your attempt of hiding your excitement.

“Nuh uh. Not subjecting myself to that shit,” he said tersely.

“Come on, I wanna know about these dates you didn’t go on, and you could dare me to do stupid shit in the mean time,” you said with your shoulders sagging.

“Ain’t gonna ask you nothin’,” he said stubbornly.

“Okay, then it’ll be one-sided truth.” You had as much enthusiasm as a little girl at a sleepover as you asked, “Truth or da…”

“Fine.”

“Okay, when was the last time you got drunk?” you started him off easy.

“Uh… CDC.”

“Wait, the CDC? Like the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta? How have I not heard about this before?” You asked. If this was the easy question,then this game may be more fun than you had previously thought.

“Yeah, stopped there, it’s gone now though,” he said nonchalantly.

“It’s gone? You would think it’d be better guarded or something.” You were astonished by the first question, and immediately got excited for the night to come.

“Blew up. My turn,” he said and pondered for a second, resting his chin on his palms like a winsome child. “What was his name?”

“Who’s name?” You wondered if this was what he was wasting his first question on.

“Coffee date guy,” he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

“I don’t remember,” you shrugged.

“That ain’t how this game works,” he argued back with a pout.

“Okay fine, I think his name was Bryce,” you gave up.

“‘S a douchey name.”

“He was a douche… probably dead now.” You looked down at the weeds growing, plucking a few and tying them together, waiting for someone to speak. You looked over at Daryl, who was patiently waiting for his question. He actually looked like he wasn't completely hating this game.

You thought for a minute, wondering how you could crack the boy in front of you. After some thought you said, “What was your first date like?” It was the perfect question, because really you could not imagine what he’d say.

“I told you, never did that type of thing.” He brought his thumb up to his mouth and started rubbing his lip as he talked.

“Okay then, who was the first person you ever did anything romantic with?” you asked.

“‘S not romantic, but there was this one girl that Merle’d bring out drinking with us sometimes. Name was Candy or something.” He mumbled around his thumb.

“Aww, little 20 something Daryl going out with a girl named Candy,” you teased.

“Wasn’t 20, I musta been ‘bout 13 or 14,” he recalled.

“I thought you said you’d go out drinking together?”

“Yeah, we’d go to this bowling alley, ‘cause they don’t card, and they had a pool table and a back room, I used to pay Merle t’ get me drinks.”

“He have to buy her drinks too?” You questioned.

“Nah, she was ‘bout his age I think, and he’d never buy something for someone else,'' he looked off.

“Wait, she was his age, and they let you drink when you were just a kid?” You tried not to chide.

“Hey, ain’t it supposed to be my turn?”

“Sorry,” you stopped.

“You said you were in a psych class, was that what you were gonna be?” He looked interested, as he inquired, studying your face as he awaited your response.

You explained “That’s what I went to school for, but who knows, I minored in fine arts. Truth is I hated psychology, but my parents needed me to make money for myself, otherwise I could have lived happily as a broke artist. Doesn’t really matter now though,” you trailed off. “Speaking of, what were your parents like?”

“Mean, drunk, dead.” He put it bluntly.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t know. How old were you?"

"With my mom, I’s 9. I was out playing with kids from around where I lived. They were all on bikes and wanted to chase this fire engine trying to see somethin’ exciting. I ran behind, and when I caught up I realized it was my house that was on fire. My mom had been smoking in bed."

"I'm really sorry about that, I didn't know about your mom or anything." You looked at him genuinely, giving a sympathetic smile.

"Was a long time ago,” he shrugged off. “Now for you. What art did you do?"

“I drew, painted, took pictures, everything really.” You added kindly.

He tilted his head back until it hit the wall, he stretched out his legs, and looked up at the stars as he said, “I’ll have to see that sometime.” “It’s not like I still have any of them,” you said, perplexed at his interest.

“Oooh, who was your celebrity crush as a kid,” you asked, “like who did you have posters of above your bed?” “Ya’ know Blondie,” he looked over to get your reaction. As he saw you nod, he said “Yeah, had a Debbie Harry poster, ripped out from a magazine.”

You laughed, and the questions continued; some questions resulted in stories others sat in stillness. The morning was short to come as the warm glow of the sun peered over the trees, and chirping birds made themselves present.

“Okay, what was your first time like?” you pestered.

You were met with a second of awkward silence, before he stumbled over the phrases “ I never, I mean… I did, it wasn’t like that though.” He brought his thumb up to his mouth again.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re a…” he dipped his head down, and looked up at you through his hair. A sickly puppy could make your heart hurt any more, so you danced around your initial wording and asked “uhh, inexperienced?”

“Morning!” sang through the fields, and Daryl had been saved by the bell. Carol stood alongside Carl to take over for the morning shift, and relieve Daryl of his painted flush. She extended her hand out first to you, helping you up. Then to Daryl, letting the hand holding linger as she instructed for you guys to go get some rest.

The walk up was silent, but just before parting you joked with him “If you ever need some more experience, you know where my cell is.” You had said it quiet enough where he could ignore it, but you knew he heard it, because he silently split, seconds after you said it.

#the walking dead #twd #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #carol peletier #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd fanfic #there will be more parts #I am almost done writing it #get ready for some awkward daryl

[lancermylove]

How Does One...? 101.

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: Sinju x Reader

Warning: NS/FW fail? Jk, suggestive.

Requested by: Anon

Prompt:  (light ns/fw maybe) Hello Lancer-senpai! I really adore your writing, especially for BSTS, so I wanted to request an one shot with Sinju! The scenario is; the two of you have dated for a bit and now Sinju is feeling it is time to go all the way, maybe (the s/o ofc really wants it too!)? It can be crack, fluff or NS/FW I just want to see what you come up with because I love what you do! I hope this isn't too vague :'D

A/N: Your request is not vague at all! I had so much fun writing this request. So, I decided to make it comical and include the Starless members in the start. I am SO sorry that reader enters much later on, but I couldn’t stop writing the first “half”. 😂

Word Count: 3,892

———————————————

Sinju shifted back onto the park bench, but his eyes remained fix on the shimmering water in front of him. He paid no heed to the people walking by nor to the conversation of the couple sitting next to him.

'What should I do?' The young boy kept asking himself again and again. 'We have been dating for a while, but..'

Shaking his head vigorously, he sighed, "Maybe I should ask someone for help."

He tightened his grip on the white paper cup in his left hand and stood up. Taking one last sip of his vanilla latte, he tossed the cup into the trash can and headed towards Starless.

"Hey, Rindou?" Sinju couldn't think of anyone better to ask for help than his trusted leader.

"What's wrong, Sinju?" Rindou gave him a warm smile, "Did something happen?"

"Do you have a few minutes? I need your advice on something."

The older male nodded and motioned his teammate to sit on the chair across him. Though he trusted his team leader, the young boy was nervous to talk openly about such a sensitive subject.

"So, I have a girlfriend, and we have been dating for a while now. Um...I-I have been thinking about...um, taking things one s-step further." Sinju shyly glanced at Rindou while drawing circles on the table in front of him. "I have n-no experience, so how do I go about it?"

Rindou tilted his head slightly, "Go about what?"

"You know." Sinju hoped that his team leader would catch on but seeing Rindou clueless, he had no choice but to say it, "How do I k-know that she'll be okay with me getting close to her? And...how do I properly m-make lo-love?"

The green-haired man's face turned bright red as he bit the corner of his lower lip. "U-uh...w-well...S-Sinju, I am not s-sure how to answer that..."

The usually cheerful boy lowered his eyes and mumbled, "I a-am sorry."

"Please don't apologize," Rindou spoke in a timid voice, "It's difficult for me to answer such a question, but...you could try asking the others?"

Sinju nodded, not wanting the moment to get any more awkward, "I will do that. Sorry again."

"Please don't apologize. I'm sorry for not being able to help."

Sinju smiled and thanked Rindou again before quickly walking out of the restaurant area. He stopped near the rehearsal room and placed his hand on his chest, drawing in deep breaths.

'Who do I ask now? Menou?' 

The orange-haired man's expressionless face appeared in his mind, causing his eyes to widen.

'Maybe not him. Yakou?' 

The memories of his trainee group flooded his head - his excitement, the company excusing him, his decision to leave without telling his group, his fight with Yakou, and his friend's attempt to overthrow Rindou.

He let out a heavy sigh and mumbled under his breath, "No way, I can ask him. Then, what about Ma-"

Before he could say the singer's name, a vivid image of a hole in a wall flashed in his mind. A chill ran down his spine, "I don't want to die yet."

"Why are you standing here talking to yourself?" A gruff voice called out behind him, causing the young boy to jump.

"K-Kokuyou, s-sorry." Sinju nervously tugged at his jacket's sleeve, "Say, can I ask you something?"

The taller man looked at his questioningly but waited for him to continue.

"U-Uh, well, I-I..."

"Stop stuttering and say whatever the hell you want to say!"

Sinju raised his hands in defense and shook his head, "Nothing! Sorry!"

With those words, he ran down the hall while Kokuyou stared at his back, confused. "What's his problem?"

Sinju ran out to the back alley and leaned his back against one of the walls, catching his breath. While waiting for his racing heart to calm down, he thought about who else he could ask.

'Akira might know, but what if he tells the other cast members about this? They won't let me live it down. Taiga may find this topic awkward. Sin...' Sinju paused and thought of the conversation he had with Sin a few days ago.

--

"Hi, Sin! How are you?"

"The waves sway to the wind's command even if they sought freedom."

Sinju tilted his head to the left and blinked, "What does that mean?"

Sin gave a smile and added a spoonful of tea leaves to a light blue teapot, "The moon may light the darkness, but a single cloud possesses the power to engulf the light."

The young boy felt blood rushing to his brain as he tried his hardest to decipher the poetic male's words.

--

"How does Team W understand him?" Sinju blinked away a few tears trying to escape his eyes. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, "Maybe I could try asking Takami later."

"It's rare seeing you in the back alley."

"H-Hey, Sotetsu." Sinju watched as the tall man sat down on one of the steps and took out a pack of cigarettes.

"Did you join the dark side and start smoking?" He chuckled and lit one of the cigarettes before taking a long puff.

"N-No." Sinju followed the smoke lazily and sighed, "If I ask you a question, will you charge me for it?"

Sotetsu started laughing, "You know me too well." He carefully analyzed Sinju's reaction before speaking again, "What's your question?"

"I can't pay you anything right now." He lowered his gaze, kicking a gray pebble in front of his shoe.

"Don't worry. I am asking to satisfy my curiosity."

"How do you know what woman want? I mean...are there specific signals or signs?" Team P's member mumbled, keeping his gaze on the ground.

He failed to notice an amused smirk forming on the older man's lips, "What do you mean?" Though he knew fully well what Sinju was insinuating, Sotetsu decided to test the water a little.

"I mean, how do you tell if a girl wan-" Sinju suddenly froze when it hit him that asking Sotetsu may be just as bad as asking Akira. 'What if he tells the others?'

"I just remembered that I have to...uh...go help Rindou. See you later." Sinju quickly walked past Sotetsu without glancing at him once.

Team K's member laughed to himself, "You can't even lie properly...you're too honest for your own good."

Once again lost in thought, Sinju absentmindedly turned a corner and nearly ran into Ginsei and Gui, but ended up losing his balance and fell on his behind.

"S-sorry, Sinju," Ginsei held out a hand and helped the blue-haired boy onto his feet, "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Actually, no, I am trying to figure something out but can't find an answer."

"What are you trying to find out?" Team K's second inquired.

"Ginsei, how do you properly treat a woman?" Sinju asked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket.

"Well, that depends on the woman, but you have to be nice to her, listen to her words, treat her with respect-"

Shaking his head, Sinju interrupted, "T-That's not what I mean. How do you know what women want?"

"That again depends on the woman. Some like attention, some like their space," Ginsei paused after seeing a disappointed expression on Sinju's face, "Is that not what you're asking?"

Sinju shook his head and drew in a deep breath, gathering courage, "Is there a proper way to have s*x?"

Ginsei's jaw dropped at hearing Sinju's question as his face turned various shades of red. Not expecting such a bold question, Ginsei was at a complete loss of words, "U-Uh, I-I...w-well...um..."

Seeing the silver-haired man stuttering, Sinju bit the bottom of his lip, "I am sorry for being so straightforward." He hung his head and dragged his heavy feet out of there.

"Ginsei?" Gui called him but got no response. He shook his team member gently, "Ginsei?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"What does s*x mean?" Gui asked innocently, leaning his head to one side.

Ginsei nearly dropped to the ground. His eyes grew as wide as they possibly could while his cheeks kept getting redder. "Gui, don't EVER ask that question to anyone. Actually, forget that you ever heard that word."

Back to square one, Sinju trudged his way through the empty halls of Starless. As he made his way back towards the rehearsal room, he heard a faint sound coming from inside. Taking a peek inside, he saw Mokuren stretching his muscles.

"Mokuren." Sinju cautiously stepped inside, but as soon as he saw Moku's glare, he retreated out of the room, "I am sorry to disturb you!"

"Someone seems frazzled."

Sinju swiftly turned around to see Zakuro and Hari standing behind him. He pondered for a second but decided that he didn't know them well enough to tell them his issue. "I'm okay."

Heading into the locker room, Sinju ran down his now nearly depleted list of who to ask. 'I don't want to ask Rico...he's most likely going to make fun of me. Asking Ran and Mizuki is out of the question. Heath might get embarrassed.'

He plopped onto the chair in front of the makeup vanity and stared at himself in the mirror, examining his dark circles and pale face. Sinju slouched further into the chair and closed his eyes. 'That leaves Kei, Takami, Qu, Kasumi, and Kongou.'

----

It was a new day, and Sinju decided to try his luck once again, hoping that he will get an answer or answers this time around. He poked his head into the management office and spoke in a shaky voice, "Kei, do you h-have a minute?"

Kei glanced at him and nodded, motioning him to come inside. "Why do you sound nervous? Did your team members get into another fight?"

Sinju closed the door behind him before shaking his head. "Thankfully, no, but I wanted to ask you something. I h-have a kinda personal question," he raised his hands in front of him, "not personal as in prying information about you."

"What do you want to know?" Kei asked in his signature baritone voice, maintaining a straight face.

"H-How do I know my girlfriend is...um...ready to get c-close to me? And how do I...ma-make love properly?" Sinju couldn't meet the older male's eyes after those words left his mouth.

Kei's lips slightly parted, and his eyebrows rose a notch. Though he was astonished, Kei quickly gathered himself. A smile soon appeared on his lips. Sinju slowly drew his eyes up to see Kei smiling, much to his surprise.

"If your girlfriend wants you to get close to her, you will be able to tell from her body language." Kei paused to allow Sinju to ask any new questions.

"Body..language?"

"Yes. Each female has her way of hinting that she's ready. You will have to figure this out on your own, but ask yourself, is she doing anything out of the usual?" Kei studied Sinju's expressions before continuing, "To answer your second question, there is no proper way of making love. But, make sure to pay attention to her needs."

"I see." Sinju rubbed the back of his head, taking in the information piece-by-piece, "Thank you, Kei."

Bowing slightly, he turned on his heels and headed towards the door, overjoyed that he finally got an answer to his question. Meanwhile, Kei quietly chuckled and whispered to himself, "How sweet."

Sinju skipped to the locker room but stopped upon hearing his name. Spinning around, he saw Takami walking towards him. "Someone is happy today."

The young boy gave a grin, "Hey, Takami."

"Did something good happen?"

"I finally got an answer to my question." Sinju leaned against the door to the locker room and spoke in a quiet voice.

"What question would that be?" Takami asked curiously, pushing his glasses closer to his face with his index finger.

Sinju pressed his lips together, thinking whether or not he should ask Takami as well. 'More opinions won't hurt, right? After all, Kei said there's no right way.'

Before asking, Sinju looked up and down the hallway, making sure that no one was around. "Takami, do you have any tips for...my f-first time?"

"First time?" He asked in a whisper.

"Yes, first time...getting close to my g-girlfriend."

Takami smiled at Sinju's nervousness, "Follow your instincts and have patience."

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Takami. I need to get ready for floor duty."

Team W's member smirked a little as he watched his co-worker disappear into the locker room. "That was unexpected."

----

Once Team W started their show, Sinju followed Qu and Kasumi back to the locker room for a short break. He sat on one of the benches and stretched his legs, "That was hectic."

"It's pretty busy for a weekday," Kasumi chimed in while nodding in agreement.

Qu finished touching up his foundation and gazed at Sinju through the mirror, "Sinju, did something happen yesterday?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Hari and Zakuro were saying something about you not looking too well," Qu said in a concerned tone.

"Oh, that? Can I ask you two a question? You promise to keep it a secret?" Sinju asked, looking back and forth at the friends. They nodded in unison.

"I am thinking about taking my relationship with my girlfriend one step further. Do you two have any suggestions?"

A gentle smile danced on Qu's lips, "Well, you could try to set up the mood. Soft music, roses, candles..."

Kasumi leaned back on the bench and added, "You could start by watching a romantic movie."

The corner of Sinju's lips rose little-by-little as he began to picture the date in his mind. "Sounds perfect."

"Good luck, Sinju." Kasumi patted his shoulder as Qu nodded in agreement.

"Now, shall we get back to our duty?" The silver-haired beauty chuckled and warned the men that their break was coming to an end.

----

The day was almost over. Sinju was one of the last ones left in the store. He opened his locker and started gathering his belonging, humming to himself.

"Sinju, you are still here?"

"I had to finish cleaning. Are you locking up the store today, Kongou?" Sinju closed his locker and made his way to the ex-wrestler.

"Yeah. Are you heading to the train station? If so, mind if we walk together?" Kongou asked politely.

"I'll wait for you at the entrance." Sinju smiled and excused himself.

Locking up the store, the two men walked past a crowd of tourists, giving each one of them a smile. Even at a distance, they could hear the females in the group giggling.

"So, how was your day?" Kongou asked, "I heard floor duty was an adventure today."

"Yeah, there were so many demands. I am sure you were super busy in the kitchen."

"It was busy, but at least there were no accidents." Kongou laughed.

Silence filled the air as the two men walked past a usually busy park. A light breeze ruffled a few of Sinju's loose hair strands. "Hey Kongou, do you have a girlfriend?"

Surprised by the sudden question, the tall man turned his head towards Sinju, "Well, n-no, but why do you ask?"

Realizing that he may sound nosy, the young boy quickly apologized, "Oh, s-sorry. I have received a lot of good tips today about how to treat my girlfriend, but I want to ask you for your opinion as well."

"Treat as in?"

"Get c-close to her." He whispered and puffed his cheek.

Though Kongou was taken aback by the question, he found Sinju's expressions to be quite cute. Clearing his throat, he spoke calmly, "Since it sounds like your first time, I suggest you pay heavy attention to foreplay to get both of you ready. Also remember to use protection."

Sinju nodded and thanked Kongou for his advice before parting ways with him. While on the train, he took out his phone and texted you.

Sinju: Are you free the day after tomorrow? You: I have all the time in the world for you.❤️   Sinju: 😀 Then, do you want to come over to my house? Um...in the evening?

Not seeing an immediate reply, almost made Sinju regret asking you. ‘Did I scare her off? Does she think I’m moving too fast? Maybe she isn’t ready.’ DING. DING. DING.

Sinju was startled to hearing his notification going off. He scrambled to unlock his phone, nearly dropping it in the process. An elder lady sitting across from him even asked him to calm down. Apologizing to her, the nervous boy opened your messages.

You: I would love to come over. About time you asked. You: AHHH I can’t wait!!! You: See you in two days! ❤️❤️❤️

Though you sent him three messages, Sinju’s eyes were glued to the first message. He kept reading it over and over.

“...but ask yourself, is she doing anything out of the usual?”

Kei’s words echoed in Sinju’s ears. ‘What does she mean by ‘about time I asked’? Does this mean...she has been waiting for me to make a move?’

----

Sinju spent the entire morning jumping from one shop to another. He wanted to make the date night as perfect as he possibly could. After all, this was going to be the best night of your life as well as his. After nearly spending three hours picking out items, he returned to his home and began to decorate the living room.

Evening came around, and Sinju got dressed in his finest white shirt and black dress pants. He dabbed a bit of your favorite cologne on his neck and fixed his hair.

Knock. Knock. 

Sinju nearly ran to the door after hearing the knocking. He took a deep breath and opened the door, "Hey, (Y/N). How-"

The words got caught in his throat when his eyes landed on you. Sinju slowly moves his eyes downwards, taking in your short plunging V-neck, spaghetti strap, red lace dress. No one told him that you would dress this way for the date.

"So? How do I look?" You asked, twirling around, causing the ruffle hem of your dress to lift a little.

Sinju quickly averted your eyes and mumbled, "You look g-great. Come in."

As soon as you stepped in, you were stunned by the effort your boyfriend put into the decoration. Candles were methodically placed to create a pathway leading to a petal covered coffee table. Amidst the red rose petals laid a dark green wine bottle, a pair of wine glasses, and a snack platter. To add to the atmosphere, Sinju had closed the curtains and shut off the lights.

"Beautiful..."

A grin appeared on Sinju's lips as he took hold of your hand, leading you towards the living area. Sitting you on the sofa, he opened the wine bottle and poured the aromatic dark red liquid into both glasses.

Once you were comfortable, Sinju turned on the TV and started the movie he had picked. A few minutes into the movie, Sinju's gaze meandered over at your legs. How he wished that your dress would slide up just a little more so he could get a glimpse of - he caught his wandering mind and forced his attention back to the TV screen.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, making him smile. He leaned over to kiss the top of your head when he saw an unavoidable view - your pushed up mounds nearly spilling out of your dress. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't avert his gaze. His pants were becoming too tight for his liking.

'Patience. Have patience.' He reminded himself, tapping his foot in a rhythmic pattern. You felt his eyes on you but decided to ignore it for the time being. 

Then it came on - the scene Sinju had been waiting for. The actor and actress drew near, pressing their lips firmly together. Not a moment later, their clothes were flying left and right. Both of you were speechless as you gawked at their naked bodies melting together. You slowly shifted your eyes to meet Sinju's orange ones.

'This is my chance.' He leaned down closer to your face, eyes staring straight into yours. You eagerly waited for his warm lips, but instead, his nose collided with yours, causing both of you to pull back.

"S-sorry." Sinju had never felt more embarrassed, but your giggle gave him the courage to try again. Once again, leaning in, he tilted his head and met your lips. 

The kiss that started sweet had now turned passionate. Sinju rested his hand on one of your exposed legs, not breaking the kiss, and began to stroke up. Rip. Sinju broke the kiss and looked down at your dress. His bracelet got caught on the lace and managed to rip a small portion.

'Why does this keep happening?' Sinju apologized to you, but instead of getting angry, you started laughing.

"Don't worry about it. Forget about that." You whispered and helped free his bracelet, "Where were we?"

Sinju smiled shyly and peppered your face with kisses while running his hand to your back. Not being able to control his excitement, he tried to untie the strings holding up your dress.

"Sinju, what's wrong?" You asked breathlessly.

"You dress is a little complicated to remove." His voice had a range of emotions.

"It's okay, take your time. Meanwhile, let me have a little fun." You whispered playfully and pushed him back on the sofa.

Sinju stared at you with wide eyes while you climbed on top of him, blushing deeply. Running your hands up his chest, you began to unbutton his shirt, wanting to feast your eyes on his muscles.

Being too shocked to move, Sinju ran over the list of things the members had told him. Patience, foreplay, pay attention to her needs, follow instincts, and mood. No one warned him that you would attempt to seduce him. No one warned him that you would be undressing him. NO ONE warned him. He was far from mentally prepared for this.

You stopped when you realized that Sinju was not reacting to your touch; instead, he was staring off into space, looking like he saw a ghost.

"Sinju? What's wrong?"

He shook his head and sat up with you, "N-nothing."

The room went silent. Neither Sinju nor you moved from your place. Everything was supposed to be perfect, but everything was far from perfect. Both of you were disappointed.

Not wanting to face you anymore, Sinju went to get up but accidentally poked the side of your waist, earning a yelp from you.

"Sinju!"

A playful smile slowly appeared on his lips.

"What's that smile for? Sinju? What are you planning to do?" You shifted back on the couch in apprehension.

Out of nowhere, Sinju dug his fingers into your sides and began to tickle you. No matter how many times you asked him to stop, he refused to listen. Grabbing a pillow near you, you began hitting Sinju with it.

Laughter echoed through his apartment. Sinju chased you around his home, trying to tickle you while you grabbed any soft item you could and threw it at him. What was supposed to be a perfect, romantic date night had now turned into a cute date.

Though this was far from what Sinju expected, he knew there was always next time.

#bsts #bsts sinju #blackstar theater starless

[freddiesaysalright]

The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 6

Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!

Word Count: 10.1k (this one’s a DOOZY)

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @moon-stars-soul​, @danadeacon​, @deacyblues​, @thesundrop​, @cupidben​, @lostlittlenerd​, @delilahmay39​, @timmvrphy​, @queenmylovely​, @loveandbeloved29​, @free-pool-trash​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @local-troubled-writer​, @babyalienfairy​, @littlecarowrites​, @allthethingsicant​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @squishy-gay-astronaut​, @sherlollydramoine​, @butlegendsneverdie​, @dogmom2014​, @rocketrhap917​, @26-7-49​, @lelifesaver​, @frozenhuntress67​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: A note on the names in this chapter! So, I went with Ben’s family name being Hardy since we all know him with that name. I understand that in reality, his parents would be Mr. and Mrs. Jones. And with Rami’s sister, I couldn’t get a confirmation on whether her name is spelled Jasmine or Yasmine so I went with the J spelling because that was what I saw first.

Warning(s): Mentions of racism.

Night 1  Week 1  Week 2  Week 3  Week 4  Week 5

Week 6 here we go!!!

Your first hometown date was with Ben in Sherborne, UK. You met him at the center of the town, which was small and quaint. But you liked it. Especially once you saw Ben walking over to you. You ran to him and leaped into his arms. He caught you with a laugh and a sweet kiss.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, shaking his head. “In Sherborne.”

“I can’t believe it either,” you replied. “But I’m so happy that I am!”

“Me too,” he agreed as he set you down. “I thought I’d just give you a bit of a tour so you can see where I grew up before we head to my parents, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect!” 

He took your hand and started down the road. At the end of the street was a vintage car. It was a black convertible, like you’d seen in old movies. It looked glamorous.

“This,” Ben said, walking up to the car. “Is our ride for the day.”

“Are you serious?!” you cried. “Oh my God!”

“Glad you like it,” he chuckled.

“I love it!” you told him.

He opened the passenger side door for you and you slid in. Then he walked around to the driver’s side and got in beside you. He looked at you, smirked, and then started the engine. He looked so sexy behind the wheel you had to turn your attention to the road so he wouldn’t see you blushing.

He drove slowly. There wasn’t much traffic, anyway, so you really could see all the places he was pointing out to you. He showed you the church he attended as a kid. Where he went to primary school. The tree under which he had his first kiss. It was all so sweet. It was all so Ben.

“I wish you could be here in October sometime,” he said. “We’ve got the Pack Monday Fair, which is always a great time.”

He told you about the fair and all his fondest memories, especially attending with his father. You were melting.

“So, how often do you get here to visit your family?” you wondered.

“As often as I can,” he said. “I’m all the way in London, and it’s not like I’ve got weekends off. But I definitely get here for special occasions and holidays.”

“Do you think you’d want to settle down here?” you asked. “When you’re ready to start a family?”

“As much as I love it here, I’d rather stay in London,” he said. “There’s more opportunity there and more diversity, which is something I want my children to experience. But believe me, they’ll be coming here to visit Nan as often as possible. My mum can’t wait for me to have kids, so she’ll be all over them.”

You giggled. “I like that. I want an involved family.”

“You might regret saying that one day,” he joked.

You drove on, and by the end, you felt you had seen almost the entire town. You stopped at the store to pick up a bottle of wine and some flowers for his mother, before at last going to the house. It was a cozy little home, and it looked inviting. You took a deep breath before starting up the driveway.

“Nervous?” Ben asked.

“A bit,” you admitted.

“Don’t be,” he said and kissed your cheek. “They’re gonna love you.”

Before you could argue, he reached out and opened the door, allowing you inside first. 

“Hello!” Ben called.

Seconds after his voice rang out, a swarm of people were upon you. All rushing to hug Ben and get a glimpse of you. He introduced you to his mother and father, and then to his aunts and uncles who were there. His grandmother remained seated on the couch, so you all made your way back to her so Ben could say hello.

“These are for you,” you said to Mrs. Hardy, handing her the wine and flowers.

“Oh, thank you, darling,” she replied. “They’re beautiful!”

You smiled as she disappeared into the kitchen to put them in a vase. Then Ben’s father approached you. You smiled and shook hands again.

“Y/N, right?” he asked.

“Yep, that’s right,” you told him.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” he said.

“Won’t say no to that,” you replied.

You followed him into the kitchen. Mrs. Hardy had already set out the flowers on the counter, and she was fussing around the food, which was evidently almost ready. Mr. Hardy poured you a glass of wine and handed it to you.

“Thank you,” you said.

Ben’s parents were surprisingly easy to talk to. You offered to help his mother with dinner, but she insisted you just relax. His father was a lot like Ben. A bit reserved, but friendly. So you chatted with them for a bit while Ben got caught up with the rest of his family.

When dinner was ready, you all sat around the dining room table. Mrs. Hardy served up a delicious meal, and then told you all to “tuck in.” You had a great time during the meal. His family was funny and warm. They welcomed you with open arms. You felt comfortable with them immediately.

“So, Y/N, can we have a chat?” asked Mrs. Hardy once the plates were clear.

“Of course,” you agreed.

You followed her to the sitting room. You sat together on the couch, and she gave your knee a maternal pat.

“How’s it all going?” she asked. “With Ben, that is.”

You smiled. “Ben and I have something really special,” you told her. “He told me that he’s falling in love with me, and I feel the same. Which I’ve told him.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Has he told you that he’s never been in love before?”

“He has,” you said. “And I’m still a little worried about that.”

“Worried? Why?” she asked.

“Well, because I don’t want him to feel like there’s more out there,” you said. “Or to get confused. I don’t want him to wake up say, ten years from now and wonder if he made a mistake because he didn’t really know what he was doing.”

“I don’t think you need worry about that,” she said. “Ben is...a unique man. He’s struggled to find love because he’s quite aware of his feelings. He has told me about girls he’s gone with and expressed things like ‘Mum, I liked her, but I don’t think she’s the one,’ or ‘Mum, she’s beautiful, but I can’t go forward just because we’re attracted to each other.’ If he’s falling in love with you, then he means it. He isn’t confused.”

“That’s a relief to hear you say that,” you said. “Because I just wasn’t really sure if he knew. But you’re right, Ben is a self-aware person, and I have faith that what he’s telling me is true. I did promise him I’d never doubt him.”

You explained to her what Luke had once said about him.

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Ben’s honest and kind. And, Y/N...he’s ready. He’s ready to find his partner and settle down.”

“I think he’d be a wonderful husband,” you told her. “And I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

She giggled and took your hand. You smiled at each other.

Meanwhile, Ben was talking to his father. They stood out on the back patio, each smoking a cigarette. You didn’t like that Ben smoked, but he did it pretty rarely since he was an athlete. And he also told you it was his goal to quit by the time he had children.

“So, Benny,” Mr. Hardy said. “How’re you feeling?”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Ben said. “I’ve...well, I’ve fallen in love with her.”

“Has she fallen in love with you?” Mr. Hardy wondered.

“She says she’s getting there,” Ben told him. “But there are still three other guys.”

“They good blokes?”

“Yeah, actually, I like them a lot. Consider them friends, even.”

“That’s good, it shows she’s got taste,” Mr. Hardy joked.

Ben chuckled. “Yeah. I’m just worried. I want to tell her that I love her. But I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

“There’s no way to fall in love without taking that risk,” Mr. Hardy said. “If you love her, love her with everything you’ve got. Pursue her. Let her know why she should choose you.”

Ben smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

You switched parents, so Ben went to speak to his mother, and you went to speak to his father. You looked at Mr. Hardy and saw Ben’s features in his face. It was like looking through time and seeing Ben as an older man. Only, Mr. Hardy had brown eyes. Ben got his eyes from his mother.

“Can I ask you how you feel about Ben?” Mr. Hardy asked.

“I care a lot about him,” you said. “He’s probably the sweetest person I’ve ever met and...well, I’m falling in love with him.”

“He’s not hard to look at, either,” he joked.

“Well, he gets it from somewhere,” you returned, pointing at him.

He laughed. 

“You seem like a nice girl,” he said. “I think you’d be a good wife to Ben, if that’s what you both want. I’m just happy if he’s happy. And he seems quite happy with you.”

You looked at Ben through the window, where he was sitting with his mom.

“You guys must miss him a lot,” you said.

“Terribly,” Mr. Hardy said. “But once again, he’s happy.”

“I’ve so appreciated you welcoming me into your home,” you said. “A home as loving as this shows me what I can expect from Ben. Thank you.”

He opened his arms to you, and you gladly accepted them.

Inside, Ben was telling his mother exactly what he’d told his father. That he was in love with you and was nervous about telling you.

“I agree with Dad, darling,” Mrs. Hardy said. “I think if that’s what you’re feeling, you should be honest with her.”

“It’s just scary since...well, I’ve never done it before,” he said. “How do I…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“Do you think it matters to her how you say it?” she asked.

“No, I think she just wants me to be honest,” he returned.

“Then there you have it, love,” she said.

The night wound down and it was time for you to go. You said fond goodbyes to Ben’s family and he walked you out to the van already waiting for you.

“Today was such a great day,” he said. “They really seemed to like you.”

“I really like them,” you told him. “You have a great family, Ben.”

“I hope you come back,” he said.

“Me too,” you replied.

A beat passed. Ben pulled you into a tight hug. Then he lowered his lips to your ear.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave a small squeeze. 

“It means so much to hear you say that,” you said.

You desperately wanted to tell him that you loved him too. Because you did. But you knew it was a bad idea. All you could do was convey how you felt through the embrace. And then when he kissed you...it was nothing like the way he’d kissed you before. This was something else entirely. It felt more like a promise.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you told him.

With that, he opened the car door for you. You slid into the back seat and smiled at him once more before he closed it. He stood on the street and watched you go, feeling like you were taking his heart with you.

Your next hometown date was with Gwilym. Like Ben, he currently lived in London, but his hometown was Sutton Coldfield, where much of his family still resided. Gwilym had told you a little bit about his hometown, so you were excited to see it in person. You met him at Sutton Park.

He looked dashing where he stood waiting for you, despite only wearing a sweater and jeans. You ran up to him and he caught you in his arms. He planted a warm and welcoming kiss on your lips. You held him a little tighter.

“I’m so glad you’re here, cariad,” he said as you parted. 

“I’m glad to be here,” you replied.

“I figured I’d show you Sutton Park,” he said. “It’s a staple of the town and quite lovely on a day like today when we’ve got nice weather. Fancy a walk?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed.

He offered you his arm, which you took. It really was a pleasant day, with a rare bit of sunshine. As you walked, he told you who you would be meeting that day. His family kept it small, so it would just be his parents and siblings. Gwilym was the youngest. It was difficult for you to picture him the youngest sibling, since he always struck you as mature and grown up. He assured you that his childhood was normal, and that he and his siblings were very close now that they were all adults.

You walked together in the park for about an hour. Then he told you there was another stop to make before going to his parents’ home. You emerged from the park, walked another fifteen minutes or so, and then you saw it - a library.

“Since you saw my personal collection, I thought I’d show you where I first gained an appreciation for literature,” he said. “Right here at the Sutton Coldfield Library.”

“I can’t wait,” you told him.

He smiled, took your hand, and led you inside. The library looked fairly typical. It wasn’t grand or beautiful, but it had some charm to it. You tried to imagine young Gwilym poring over the books, trying to decide the one he’d like best. You smiled at the thought.

You were just about to tell him so when a distraction in the shape of a little girl came hurtling over, throwing her arms around Gwilym’s legs. She was maybe six years old. Her blonde ringlets settled against her face.

“Mr. Gwilym, you’re back!” she cried, clutching a handful of his jeans. “We’ve missed you!”

You blinked, shocked at the sudden appearance of the girl, but even more surprised that she knew Gwilym and was comfortable enough to hug him so tightly.

“Hello, Rosie,” Gwilym replied, patting her head. “I’ve missed you all too.”

Suddenly, more children emerged from a section you saw was the children’s library. Their little faces lit up at the sight of Gwilym, and they all followed Rosie’s example of throwing themselves on him. He laughed and then saw your bemused expression.

“I come home twice a month to read to the kids,” he told you. “To give back to this place.”

A little boy had clamored onto Gwilym’s back.

“Where’ve you been, Mr. Gwilym?” he wondered with a pout.

“Well, you see, children,” Gwilym said, nodding toward you. “I’ve met someone very special.”

In a swarm, they detached themselves from him and walked over to you, staring. You bit back a laugh.

“Hey, kids,” you said kindly. “I’m sorry for keeping Mr. Gwilym away.”

“You’re pretty,” Rosie said. “Are you Mr. Gwilym’s girlfriend?” 

“I am,” you told her.

“Are you gonna get married?” asked another girl beside you.

“Maybe!” you said. 

You met Gwilym’s gaze as the children demanded more information and you did your best to answer them. A future with him was suddenly much clearer.

“Alright, everyone leave Mr. Gwilym and his friend alone,” said the librarian, an elderly woman with her silver hair in a long braid down her back.

“Hello, Joan,” Gwilym said warmly, bending down to kiss the woman’s cheek.

Joan smiled at you as Gwil introduced you and she asked how everything was going. You told her it was all wonderful, and Gwilym agreed. Then Rosie returned and tugged on Gwilym’s pant leg.

“What are you going to read for us today?” she asked.

“Oh, Rosie, I’m sorry, we just popped over to say hello,” he told her. “We don’t have a story today.”

Tears shone in her big, blue eyes and you nearly started crying yourself. 

“Please,” Rosie begged.

“Please!” the other children echoed.

“Read them a story, you monster,” you teased, punching his arm lightly.

“Alright, I’ll read you a story,” Gwilym said. “If Miss Y/N reads it with me.”

“Please, Miss Y/N!” they cried.

You laughed. “Alright, then,” you agreed. “Story time it is.”

They all cheered, returned to the children’s library, and settled into the back corner. It was a cozy little set up, with bean bag chairs and cushions and stuffed animals everywhere. A wide bench was placed under the window, where the reader would sit. The kids picked out a story while you and Gwilym took your places. 

He started off the story, and his enthusiasm was not something you had seen him yet. He did voices, he made faces, anything to amuse the children. They giggled and snickered, enjoying themselves to the fullest, and totally riveted by him. You were too. You knew you were reading the words and doing your best to be convincing, but your mind was on Gwilym and how impressed you were with him. It showed you how much he valued learning, and the kind of father he might be.

When the story was over, you had to say goodbye and head to the Lee household. The kids were sorry to see you go, but their parents were arriving to pick them up. Gwilym even knew their parents, and said quick hellos before guiding you out and down the street.

“That was….” you trailed off. “So amazing. I feel like every time we’re together, you show me a new side of you. And I think that one is my favorite.”

He chuckled. “I just want to give back to the next generation,” he said. “Maybe they’ll go on to be great writers or professors. Maybe they won’t. But no matter what, they’ll support their local library.”

“You’re the actual sweetest, you know that?” you said.

He only laughed before throwing his arm over your shoulder and leading you away.

For the evening, you went to his parents’ home. It was a bit larger than what you were used to seeing in the UK, but looked inviting. You met Gwilym outside, and he hugged you tightly. You did your best to return it with the flowers and wine in your hands.

“Are you ready, love?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

“Let’s go in.”

Together, you walked across the threshold as Gwilym called out to his family. The first person to round the corner was his father, who wrapped his son up in the friendliest bear hug. His brothers and sister were not far behind. His mother approached you first.

“Hello, dear,” she said kindly. “I’m Ceinwen. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied. “I’m Y/N.”

Gwilym introduced to his father, Tom, his brothers, Geraint and Owen, and his sister, Rhiannon. They were all very friendly and gave you hugs as they met you. You followed them into the kitchen, and as you walked, you observed your surroundings. This family was undeniably Welsh, and proud of it. Gwilym told you that both his parents were from Wales, and he connected strongly to that heritage. Seeing the home, you understood why. You envied that connection a little bit.

“You have such a lovely home,” you said to Ceinwen. “Thank you for having me.”

“We’re glad to have you,” she replied. “Come, sit down for dinner.”

It was already on the table when you arrived, so she said you had perfect timing.

“I’m relieved,” Gwilym said. “We got a bit delayed at the library.”

“Oh, did you take her to see the children?” Ceinwen asked.

“I did,” he told her. “We had a wonderful time with them, didn’t we?”

He looked over at you and took your hand. You beamed.

“We really did,” you said. 

They asked how your day was overall, and you were excited to tell them that it was great. You always felt like you could gush about Gwilym. His family exchanged happy glances at your every word.

After dinner, Rhiannon asked to speak to you. You happily agreed and followed her into the sitting room. You each took a seat on the couch.

“How’s this whole process been for you?” she asked.

“It hasn’t been easy,” you told her. “I’ve had to make really difficult decisions, but I’m just following my heart the best I can.”

“How many men are left?” she wondered.

“Including Gwilym, there are four,” you said. 

“And how are you feeling about him as compared to the other three?” she pressed.

You swallowed. “That’s difficult to say. I sort of have to compartmentalize each relationship and evaluate it on its own strengths or weaknesses. I know that Gwilym and I have been strong since the beginning. He’s really opened up to me, as I have to him, and we’re falling steadily in love.”

“And has Gwil expressed his feelings for you?”

“He’s told me that he’s falling in love with me,” you said. “Which made me so happy because I’m falling in love with him too.”

“Have you told him that?”

You shook your head. “I haven’t. But I plan on letting him know soon.”

“As long as you’re honest with him, he’ll be honest with you,” she said with a smile. “Gwilym’s reserved, but not afraid of the truth.”

“I definitely see that about him,” you agreed. “We’ve always been totally honest with each other.”

You smiled at each other. You spoke to his parents next. His mother sat on the couch beside you and his father in a chair across the coffee table.

“Can I just start by saying what a wonderful man you have raised?” you began. “Honestly, Gwilym has been such a dream and completely unafraid of the risk involved in this. He’s great.”

They both grinned.

“Thank you,” Tom said. “We hope that means you’re feeling strongly for him.”

“I am,” you assured him. “I told Rhiannon that I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ceinwen said. “He told us the same about you.”

“Now, there are still other people involved in this,” Tom said. 

“I know,” you said. “But believe me. I care so deeply for Gwilym. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him.”

“You must understand,” his mother said. “As his parents, that’s our worst fear. After he lost his fiance, he was a wreck. I don’t want him to return to that.”

“I understand,” you assured her. “I will do what I can to keep him from that. But please understand my position as well. I can’t make any promises right now.”

“Right, of course,” Tom said. 

You chatted a little longer, and you once again told them how much you admired Gwilym. Meanwhile, he was talking to his siblings.

“So, how are you feeling about her?” asked Owen. 

“I’m falling in love with her, for sure,” Gwilym answered. “I really could see her being my wife.”

“But you’re not completely in love?” questioned Geraint.

“I dunno if I could say that with other men involved,” Gwilym replied. “I want to be down on one knee before I give myself that completely.”

“She seems like a great girl, Gwil,” Rhiannon added. “You two seem compatible. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. But are you sure you could propose after just a few weeks?”

Gwilym looked at his wine glass and swirled the deep purple liquid around, just for something to do while he considered this question.

“You all know how seriously I would take an engagement,” he began. “I think, if within the coming weeks, Y/N and I find ourselves at that point, then yes. I could see myself proposing.”

The siblings all exchanged a look. If he was that serious about you, they would support him.

Overall, Gwilym’s hometown went well. It wasn’t as smooth as Ben’s, but given Gwilym’s history, you understood his family’s skepticism. Even so, they seemed genuinely happy for him. As Gwilym led you out, you swung your clasped hands with joy. He smiled at you.

“Gwilym,” you said. “You told me back in London that you’re falling in love with me.”

“Yes, I remember,” he said.

“Well, I just wanted to tell you that….I’m falling in love with you too,” you said. “Hard and fast.”

His smile widened.

“I’m happy to hear it, cariad,” he replied.

With that, he turned you toward him and pulled you in for a kiss. His lips pressed into yours with a need you had not felt from him before. His gratitude for your validation was deeper than you thought. Perhaps his feelings were as well.

When you broke apart, you coiled your arms around his neck and held him close. You stood there for what felt like hours. Despite everything you had been through with him, and the beauty of that moment on the London Eye, this was the most romantic moment you felt with Gwilym. Just you and him. Outside his childhood home, knowing each other without even speaking.

“You need to get going,” he finally said.

“I wish I didn’t,” you replied.

“I do too,” he agreed. “But there’s more to this journey.”

You stood on your toes and kissed him again.

“I’ll see you soon,” you whispered.

“I can’t wait,” he replied.

He walked you to the car and opened the door for you. With one last kiss, you got in. As you drove away, you felt your heart breaking without him.

After Gwilym’s hometown, it was time to leave the UK and head back to the states. Your first stop was in New York for Joe’s hometown. He was from Hyde Park, which you knew nothing about. You were excited to see it though and understand Joe better.

You arrived at Hyde Park and met Joe on what appeared to be a random street. You sprinted to him, eager to be in his arms. You had missed him desperately while you were apart. He caught you and spun you around with a laugh before he kissed you.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you more,” you returned.

“Wanna bet?” he shot back.

You laughed. “What are you going to show me today?”

“Hyde Park isn’t exactly known for tourism,” he said. “We’ve got the Vanderbilt Mansion, sure, but other than that we’re just your average town.”

“So, are we going to see the mansion?” you wondered.

“Actually, I thought we’d do something better,” he said. “Come with me.”

He took your hand and began to lead you down the street. This community was clearly close-knit, as several people stopped Joe to talk to him and catch up. He introduced you as his girlfriend and they all smiled happily for him. Finally, you stopped outside a restaurant. The name on it was Mazzello’s. You grinned.

“Your family’s restaurant!” you cried. “I’m gonna get to see it?!”

“Absolutely!” he returned. “My brother, John, has been handling things since I’ve been away, so he’ll be the first family member you meet.”

“I can’t wait!”

You followed him inside. A wave of voices overtook you as Joe walked through the door. It seemed his whole family had surprised even him by showing up at the restaurant. His mother was there, as were his brother and sister. His nieces and nephews raced to hug him and he miraculously scooped all of them into his arms. 

There were hugs all around. The Mazzellos had spared no one in coming to meet you. Joe’s grandparents were there. His aunts and uncles. Family friends. Even restaurant regulars. It showed you how well Joe was loved in his community. It made you love him even more.

Joe introduced you first to his mother, Virginia, his sister, Mary, and then his brother, John. They were all thrilled to meet you. As you made your way through the crowd to meet everyone else, you felt there was a missing piece. When you looked over at the counter you realized what it was. A picture of Joe’s father hung behind the register.

You turned your eyes to Joe and saw that he was looking at it too. He shook his head and then looked at you.

“Come on,” he said with a small smile. “Let me show you the kitchen.”

“Alrighty,” you agreed.

You walked with him behind the counter and into the back of the restaurant. The kitchen was huge, with everything you could ever need to make Italian food. And it was authentic. Joe showed you where they made dough, how they turned it into noodles or pizza crust. The massive cooler for all the fresh vegetables. They also had a garden behind the restaurant where they grew their own herbs.

“Joe, this is incredible,” you said, still looking around in awe.

“My dad was dedicated to being authentic,” he said. “So we’ve kept it the way he started it.”

“You shouldn’t change a thing,” you told him.

You were alone together in the kitchen, so he took this opportunity to pull you into his arms. He held you for a long moment, and you felt him shake as he released a breath. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him gently.

“Thanks,” he sniffled. “Being back is just bringing up a lot of emotions.”

“I’m here, baby,” you said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on,” he said. “I’ve gotta show you how to make all this.”

“We’re gonna cook?” you asked, surprised.

“Course,” he said with a wink. He tossed you an apron. “You gotta learn if you’re gonna be a part of the family.”

You smirked. Then you tied the apron on, rolled up your sleeves, and got to work. His family joined you to help out as well, and Joe took every moment he could to flirt with you. When he showed you something, he stood behind you and put his arms around your waist. If he helped you get something, he reached over you, putting his chest to your face. If he was passing you and no one was around, he gave you a light pat on your ass. You had never had so much fun.

Together, you and the Mazzellos prepared a huge meal for everyone there to see Joe and meet you. Joe’s family was just as fun as he was. They poked fun at him - in the most loving way possible - and welcomed you warmly. As you all sat down to eat, Joe said a quick prayer. Then you dug in to the food.

“Oh my God,” you moaned as you took the first bite. “This is delicious!”

They laughed with you. Sharing a meal with them was like nothing you had ever experienced. Everyone at the table got a say in any discussion, even the children. In fact, Joe frequently consulted them. It seemed that Uncle Joe was a popular person. Many people had questions for you, and Virginia made a special effort to make you feel included. Not that she had to try too hard. You already felt like one of them.

After your meal, they opened a bottle of wine. When the glasses were distributed, you made a toast. Then, Virginia pulled you aside. You followed her to one of the small tables on the patio and sat across from her.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Joe’s been talking about you since he got home and we were all so anxious.”

“I’m glad I don’t disappoint,” you replied.

“Never,” she said. “All I want is for Joe to be happy. He’s been burned in the past and I just want to protect him.”

“Of course you do,” you returned. “You’re an amazing mother. I can’t promise you that Joe and I will end up together because I’m not sure how this will go yet.”

“How do you feel about Joe?” she asked.

You took a moment to form a response. There were so many things you admired about Joe. His humor, his wit, his good heart. The way he made you feel understood and loved. The way you could rely on him. Tears suddenly stung your eyes.

“Oh!” Virginia gasped when she noticed. “Well, then. That tells me all I need to know.”

“I love him,” you choked out anyway.

It felt good to say it to someone. You were in love with Joe. But he hadn’t said it to you, so you weren’t sure about saying it to him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said graciously. 

She paused a moment before continuing.

“It’s funny, seeing you two together,” she said. “I’m reminded of myself and Mr. Mazzello. The way you seem so at ease with one another and have fun. But behind all of it...I see the depth of what you feel. I know you’d be there for him when things got rough, just as he would be there for you.”

“Joe has been the most solid connection I’ve had,” you said. “He’s never let me down. Truly, Mrs. Mazzello, I see a future with him. Especially after today.” You took a moment to take a breath since your emotion was threatening to overwhelm you again. “I see it so clearly.”

“I’m touched that he means so much to you,” she said, opening her arms. “Come here, Y/N.”

You melted into her and let out a small sob. It hit you so suddenly how much you loved Joe and it had caught you off guard. When you settled down, she wiped your cheeks before kissing them. You beamed at each other.

Joe spoke to his mother next, while you went to chat with his siblings. Virginia took her son in her arms and held him for a quick moment before they sat down together.

“So, how’d it go with Y/N?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” she replied. “She cares for you, Joe.”

“I hope so,” he said with a chuckle.

“No, listen to me, honey,” she said. “I asked her point blank how she felt about you. And she started to cry. You mean a great deal to her.”

Joe flushed, both pleased and distressed by his mother’s words. He hated that you had gotten upset, but he was also touched by the sentiment. He had confessed that he was falling in love with you. Was now the time to tell you that he was there? He was so madly in love with you that he’d do anything in the world for you?

Inside, you had begun talking to Joe’s siblings, but his nieces and nephew quickly interjected.

“What’s your favorite thing about Uncle Joe?” you asked them.

“He’s fun!” his oldest nephew cried. “He always plays with us when the grown ups are being boring.”

“What’s your favorite game to play with him?” you asked.

“Tickle monster!” they all agreed.

“Do you want him to get married?” you wondered.

“Yes!” said his niece eagerly. “That way he can have babies too, and we’ll have even more cousins to play with!”

“Do you wanna have babies with Uncle Joe?” asked his other nephew.

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Then you smiled.

“Very much.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John and Mary grin at one another.

All too soon, the sun went down and it was time for you to go. You said warm goodbyes to everyone before Joe led you out to the car that was waiting for you.

“What a great day,” he said, before leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

“It was wonderful,” you said. “Do you think if we asked nicely, they’d let us do it again?”

He chuckled. “Afraid not, babe. But hey, I’ll see you again soon.”

You looked into his eyes. He felt the brutal urge to tell you now that he was fully in love with you. He opened his mouth to let it out, but then closed it again. Something in his heart was telling him to wait.

Your brow furrowed. You were hoping Joe would say “I love you.” When he didn’t you were a bit disappointed.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly. “Yeah, I just...I had such a good time today and I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you said.

You rested your head against his chest, not ready to let him go. You got a sudden burst of bravery.

“Joe, I -”

You stopped yourself. Why were you hesitating?

“Yes?” he pressed.

“I...I really am gonna miss you.”

His face fell, and you felt terrible. Why was this so hard to say? Perhaps because it meant so much.

“I’ll see you at the rose ceremony,” he said with a smile.

He kissed you once more. Then he opened the car door and you slid inside. You whispered a tearful goodbye to him, which he returned. Then he closed the door. The driver started down the street. You hung your head in your hands. 

“That was stupid,” you said to the camera. “I should have just told him.”

Little did you know, Joe was giving himself the exact same lecture. His only regret in the journey so far was not telling you just then that he loved you. He hoped it didn’t cost him a rose.

From New York, you flew back to Los Angeles for Rami’s hometown. The first three had gone so well, you had high hopes for the last. Rami’s family lived in Sherman Oaks. Most of his extended family was in Egypt, so - like Gwilym’s hometown - you would just be meeting his parents and his siblings. You were a bit nervous going in, since he had mentioned that his sister was protective.

All nerves melted away when you saw him. You surged forward to get to him and planted an enthusiastic kiss on him. He laughed into it, and held you tight.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said. 

“I’m glad to see you too!” you returned. 

“I know you’re familiar with Los Angeles, so I wasn’t sure what we could do today,” he said. “But I thought of just a tour of where I grew up.”

“That’s perfect,” you said. “The whole idea is to get to know you better.”

“Awesome, let’s get started!”

For your tour of Rami’s corner of Los Angeles, you had scooters. They were ridiculously fun, even though frightening at first. Rami took you all over Sherman Oaks. He showed you his high school, where a few big name actors had also attended. He took you around his neighborhood, pointing out houses where his friends once lived, and the times they had together. You stopped at a park, where you got some ice cream and sat on a bench together.

“So, it seems like you enjoyed growing up here,” you said.

“I did,” he replied hesitantly.

You frowned. “What is it?”

“Y’know, growing up here was amazing,” he said. “But after 9/11, things changed. People say California is so progressive and welcoming, but after that happened, my family was treated differently, even here.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, taking his hand. “That’s terrible.”

“We stopped speaking Arabic in public,” he said. “We tried even harder to assimilate. My father took down the Egyptian flag we used to hang outside. Even though we aren’t Muslim...or from the country that attacked that day...we were Middle Eastern enough for people to suddenly suspect us.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” you told him. “That’s just...horrible. And so brutally unfair.”

“It is,” he said. “Eventually, things settled down again, and our neighbors warmed back up. But it was never really the same. In school, I always felt like I was struggling. Having to tell people how to pronounce my name, only to have them butcher it or say it with some offensive accent. It wasn’t easy.”

He took a deep breath.

“But I’m really proud of my heritage,” he said. “I am Egyptian. No matter the generation or where I grew up. It’s part of me.”

“That’s beautiful, Rami,” you said. “You should be proud.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he replied. “I just wanted to tell you this because my hometown isn’t all great memories. Parts of growing up were very difficult for me. And I wanted you to understand.”

“Believe me, I’m glad to listen to every part of how you grew up,” you said. “The good, the bad, and the ugly. I want to support you and help you through it.”

“You’re amazing,” he said.

“You’re even more so,” you returned.

You kissed him with a smile.

You didn’t stay out too much longer before you headed to his parents’ home. It was a decent sized suburban house, and you hoped his mother would appreciate the flowers. Rami told you to skip the wine because his parents didn’t drink. Out of respect for their home, you decided you would not partake while there. Rami told you how much he appreciated it.

When you walked up to the door, you gulped. You were always nervous right before meeting them. Then Rami kissed your cheek swiftly before opening the door. 

As soon as you were into the foyer, Rami’s brother crashed into him.

“Rami!” he cried, engulfing him into a hug.

Though he and his brother were twins, they had their distinctions. Rami was slimmer and just an inch or two shorter. Sami was broader with a more relaxed air about him. 

“Oh, this must be Y/N,” Sami said as he released his brother. “I’m Sami. It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sami, are they -” Rami’s sister, Jasmine, came into the hall and stopped herself. “They are!”

She went to Rami and hugged him similarly to Sami. His parents appeared behind their daughter and grinned at the sight. You went over to them and offered the flowers.

“For you, Mrs. Malek,” you said.

She grinned. “Thank you, Y/N.”

His father also shook your hand before calling his children back with him to the kitchen. Mrs. Malek, whose name was Nelly, put the flowers into a vase. Mr. Malek, whose name was Said, checked on something in the oven which smelled delicious. You told him so and they thanked you.

“So, how’s it been so far?” Sami asked. “Been anywhere exciting?”

“We’ve been to Asheville, North Carolina,” Rami said. “Then we went to London.”

“Oh, I love London,” Jasmine interjected.

“It was amazing,” Rami told her. “And after that we went to Killarney, Ireland.”

“How fun!” Nelly said.

“We had a great time in Killarney,” you said, looking fondly at Rami and recalling your magical one on one date. 

“It was beautiful,” Rami agreed. “Especially the company.”

He put his arm around your shoulders and squeezed you as you giggled. You caught a disgusted look on Jasmine’s face, which discouraged you. You had the sense that she would take a while to warm up to you. Unfortunately, you only had one evening to change her mind.

Rami’s parents were incredibly kind. His mother was already teaching you some Arabic as you helped her prepare more food. It was just simple words here and there, but she told you that you were doing a great job. Meanwhile, Rami spoke to his siblings in the living room.

“Rami, I hate to be the wet blanket here,” Jasmine said. “But what are you doing?”

“Enjoying an evening with my girlfriend and family,” he replied. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve known this girl barely two months,” she continued. “All while she’s been dating thirty other men.”

“I know what I signed up for,” he said.

“I still don’t understand why you even signed up,” she snapped.

“Hey, calm down,” Sami said. “Love happens in crazy ways. Who's to say this isn’t how it’s meant to work out for Rami?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” Jasmine said. “How can she really love you if she is also falling in love elsewhere? And what about your career?”

“What about it?” Rami demanded.

“Don’t you think you should wait for marriage and a family until you’ve established yourself more as an actor?” she wondered. “This is a huge commitment.”

“We’ve talked about it,” he said. “She knows that we could balance it.”

“Probably not the way she’s thinking,” she said. “I saw her on the last season. This girl is ready to settle down properly. Is that something you want?”

“We can talk more about it,” Rami said. “Right now, all I need for you to do is be my sister and support me.”

“I am doing that,” she said. “And one day, you’ll see just how much.”

With that, she swept from the room. Rami scowled.

“She’s making some good points, Rami,” Sami said. 

“No, she isn’t,” Rami argued. “This is something Y/N and I have already discussed and worked out.”

Sami sighed. “Alright then.”

Dinner was ready within the next few minutes. It went smoothly. You liked Rami’s family and the way they interacted. Teasing and fun, but with lots of love. Rami was clearly the apple of his mother’s eye especially. 

When dinner was over, Jasmine asked to speak to you. You were glad for the chance because you wanted to be close to her if it was you and Rami at the end of this. Together, you went out to the back porch and took seats on the cushioned wicker furniture.

“Y/N, I want to start by saying that I don’t have a problem with you personally, but this process makes no sense to me,” she began.

“I understand that,” you said. “It’s difficult for lots of people to understand unless you’re in it. But it’s just a way for people to find love. Like any dating app or even the traditional stuff. It just happens to be on TV as well.”

“But the expectation is not traditional,” Jasmine said. “The idea is to get engaged after just two months.”

“It seems fast, but believe me, the feelings are real,” you told her. “What I feel for Rami...that’s real. Whether other people understand it or not.”

“But you also have real feelings for three other men,” she pointed out.

That stung. You understood why the families were concerned about this. They didn’t want their loved one to be the one to get hurt. But this was the process that you all signed up for, and you were growing tired of this being thrown in your face.

“I do,” you said. “But every relationship is different.”

“So, tell me what you and Rami have discussed about life outside of this,” she said. “You know he wants to be an actor.”

“He already is an actor,” you replied. “We’ve talked about how we would balance schedules with each other and if we have children.”

Jasmine sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she looked at you, a hard expression in her eyes.

“Rami is ambitious about his acting career,” she said. “Now isn’t the time for him to be getting married and starting a family.”

You wanted to flare up and scream at her, but you held back.

“Don’t you think that’s something Rami should decide for himself?” you countered.

“Y/N, listen to me,” she said. “I’m not saying this to be a bitch. I’m saying this for both your sakes. Let’s say this goes well and you and Rami get engaged. If you have to wait for his acting career to take off before you can be a mother, you are going to resent him. If he sacrifices his aspirations in order to stay where he is and be with you, he is going to resent you. He’s not ready.”

“Why would he come on this show if he’s not ready?” you challenged, trying not to let her words take root in your heart. But you couldn’t deny the truth of them.

“Probably because - like anyone - he does want love,” she said. “But he’s not ready for the commitment you want from him.”

You let that sink in. Tears welled up in your eyes. You were still falling in love with Rami, and hated the thought of saying goodbye to him.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting up from your seat.

You walked out into the yard and around the side of the house, sniffling. A tear slid down your cheek. This was the last thing you expected from his family. For them to tell you that even if you and Rami love each other, these things would get in the way. It hurt so much to hear because Jasmine was right. You were afraid of resentment building if either of you had to wait for your dreams.

“Hey.”

You turned and saw Rami standing there, a little winded and looking concerned. 

“What did she say?” he demanded when he saw you crying.

You broke down and told him. He heaved a sigh and pulled you into his arms.

“Y/N, don’t listen to that,” he said. “We can figure out how to plan our lives after an engagement. We don’t have to get married and have kids right away, we’ve got a lot of time.”

You pushed him away.

“Is that what you think I want?” you asked. “To just be indefinitely engaged? Without a plan? To basically be dating each other after this?”

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I understand you want a serious commitment, and I’m willing to give that to you if I have to.”

“If you have to?” you questioned. “Rami, I need someone who really, really wants that. I’m upset because I think Jasmine is right. We don’t want the same things going back into the world after all this.”

His eyes filled with tears too. “I want you, Y/N. I love you.”

You blinked and looked at the ground. “I don’t know if that’s enough.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at your words, and you couldn’t look at him.

“So...what do we do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

You stood there a brief moment, wondering where to go from here. 

“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” you said. 

“I’m not either,” he said.

“At least we can agree on that,” you said with a humorless laugh.

Another beat passed.

“I need to go,” you said. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Y/N, please…” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just have to go.”

With that, you walked out to the front of the house. You couldn’t say goodbye to his family like this, not when you were falling apart. Alone, you went to the car that was waiting for you and climbed into the back seat, closing the door behind you. As you pulled away, you looked into the camera.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you said. “I really just don’t know.”

The next day, you woke still conflicted. You had a rose ceremony that night, and you had to decide who to send home. Rami’s hometown date had been the least successful, but it opened your eyes to what might happen if you went down this road with him. But you also felt confused about Joe because of the moment before you left and he didn’t tell you he loved you. But Gwilym hadn’t either. The only one you were sure was getting a rose so far was Ben. His family was sweet, and you had no doubts about where you stood with him. You were absolutely ready to move forward with that relationship. The others...you had to consider and weigh your options.

You were meeting the men back at the Bachelor Mansion, where the journey began. Chris stood out front, where you had been night one to meet the men. The remaining four were arriving one by one before going into the rose ceremony.

Joe was the first to arrive. He smiled at Chris as he walked up to shake his hand.

“Joe, how are you?” Chris asked politely.

“I’m feeling pretty good,” Joe answered. “I think my hometown could have ended better, but I hope that’s not enough to lose a rose tonight.”

“Well, good luck, my friend,” Chris said. “Go ahead inside.”

“Thanks,” Joe replied.

He walked through the house and into the courtyard. He stood to one side and looked at the little table with just three roses on it.

Rami arrived next. He couldn’t smile just yet. 

“Rami, how’re you doing?” Chris asked.

“I’m anxious,” Rami said. “Things didn’t go well on the hometown date and I...I wish I had more time to talk to her before all this.”

“If the connection is there, she knows how to move forward,” Chris said. “Go ahead inside and good luck.”

“Thank you, Chris,” Rami said.

He followed Joe’s path. He finally grinned when he saw Joe and the two embraced. Then Rami spotted the roses and swallowed, wondering if he would get one.

Ben was third to arrive. He had a wide smile on his face.

“What’s up, buddy?” Chris asked as they shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder. “You look happy.”

“I am happy,” Ben said. “I think things went really well, so I’m feeling confident about tonight.”

“That’s great to hear,” Chris said. “Go ahead inside and best of luck to you.”

“Thank you,” Ben replied.

He walked into the courtyard and he was pleased to see Joe and Rami already there. He gave them both quick hugs before taking his place in line.

Finally, Gwilym arrived. He straightened his tie as he stepped out of the limo and approached Chris.

“Gwilym, how are you?” Chris asked as they shook hands.

“I’m nervous,” Gwil admitted. “But I think everything went well enough. I just hope she feels the same way I do.”

“I hope so too,” Chris said. “Go ahead in and good luck.”

“Thank you so much,” Gwilym returned.

He too made his way to the courtyard, where the other three men stood. They all embraced him when he arrived, but quickly resumed their spots. Things had changed between them now that it was more serious. They all considered each other friends, and they respected one another, but there was some tension now. They waited.

You were the last one to get there. As you walked into the courtyard in your gown, you took a deep breath. You had made up your mind, but now you had to go through with it. You were going to hurt someone you cared a lot about - someone you loved - and that was never easy.

“Hi,” you said meekly as you looked at the four men before you. “Thank you all for being so gracious and allowing me to meet the important people in your life. I felt truly honored. I got a glimpse into what the future would be like with each of you, and it really helped me see who has the most potential to be my husband.”

Rami hung his head at these words. Then he looked at you again as you picked up the first rose. 

“Ben,” you said.

He let out a sigh and walked up to you.

“Ben, will you accept this rose?” you asked.

“I will,” he replied.

You pinned it to his jacket. You picked up the second.

“Gwilym,” you called.

His body relaxed at the sound of his name and then he approached you.

“Gwilym, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course I will.”

You pinned it on and he kissed your cheek before returning to his spot. Your heart began to pound inside your chest. Chris came out and put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, gentlemen,” he said. “This is the final rose tonight. Whenever you’re ready.”

He let go and you inhaled deeply. The exhale was slow and shaky. With a trembling hand, you picked up the last rose. You looked at Rami and you looked at Joe. Your eyes watered.

“Joe,” you choked out.

Joe’s relief was written all over his face as he walked over to you.

“Joe, will you accept this rose?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“I will, Y/N, thank you,” he replied.

He had to help you put it on since your hands were so unsteady. Then he gave you a quick hug before returning to his spot.

“Rami, I’m sorry,” Chris said. “Take a moment, say your goodbyes.”

Rami was shaken. He had hoped that you could move past what Jasmine said and work through those issues together. Especially since you told him you weren’t ready to say goodbye. And here you were, saying it anyway.

He gave short hugs to the remaining men, who all whispered some words of comfort to him. Then he slowly walked to you. You had tears streaming steadily down your face. You tried to inhale, but you were short of breath.

“Can I - can I walk you out?” you asked through a sob.

“Yeah,” he said gently.

You took his hand and started back inside the mansion to exit through the front door. When you got to the driveway, you stopped and sat him down on a bench.

“I’m so sorry, Rami,” you whimpered. “I just...I don’t ever want to hold you back. You’re so talented and you’ve got so much to give, and I never want to stand in your way.”

“I don’t think you would…” he said.

Rami was numb. He still could hardly believe it was ending.

“I would,” you sobbed. “I want to settle down and have someone who comes home every night to me and the kids, y’know? And with what you want out of your life, that could never be us. As much as I care about you…”

He blinked and you saw a tear roll down his cheek slowly.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too, Rami,” you replied. “But that kind of love isn’t enough to have a successful marriage between people as different as we are.”

A beat passed and you sniffled again.

“I want you to know that you’re amazing,” you said. “My feelings for you are so deep and so real, and that’s why this hurts so much. You deserve a successful career and someone who can be there for you through it. But that’s just not me.”

“I understand,” he said.

He began to move, as if suddenly gaining feeling back in his limbs.

“This is where we say goodbye, then,” he said.

“Goodbye, Rami,” you returned.

He hugged you. You held him for a moment, but you knew you had to let him go.

“When you win an Oscar, I’ll be cheering for you,” you teased, forcing a smile through your tears.

He chuckled halfheartedly. “Thanks. Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye,” you breathed.

With that, he opened the door and climbed in. You closed it and watched the tail lights disappear through the gate. You let out one final sob and dabbed at your eyes.

Rami, once inside the car, put his head in his hands and tried to breathe. He released a small whine, but kept his face covered. Then he took a deep breath and moved his hands to wipe his face.

“God,” he sighed. “I’m...I hate this. I really wanted to be with her and I hate that she couldn’t see a future anymore. F**k.”

He paused.

“I still love her.”

Back at the mansion, you had your makeup touched up before returning to the three men you had left. Your nose still ran and bit, and your eyes were still red and puffy, but you went to them anyway. They offered sympathetic smiles as you walked up.

“So, um,” you began, voice shaking again. “That was really difficult. But, I really am happy to be moving forward with all of you.”

Joe handed you a glass of champagne. They all already held one.

“Next week is a big week,” you said. “It’s fantasy suites, and where we’re going really is a fantasy.”

“Where is it?” wondered Ben.

“Gentlemen, we are going to New Zealand!”

They cheered and toasted to that. You hoped you were ready for the overnight dates. But you looked at the faces of each of these men and smiled. You were ready. You absolutely trusted them with your heart.

#ben hardy #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #ben hardy x reader #gwilym lee x reader #joe mazzello x reader #rami malek x reader #ben hardy imagine #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello imagine #rami malek imagine #ben hardy x you #gwilym lee x you #joe mazzello x you #rami malek x you #borhap boys #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys imagine #borhap boys x you #BoRhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast imagine #BoRhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #Queen #queen imagine #the most dramatic season ever series

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 2: Guidance (originally published December 14, 2020)

Author's note: I think I'm gonna try releasing new chapters every Monday, for Part 1 at least. Anyway, here's Guidance.

Synopsis: Steven helps the students of Little Homeschool get jobs, but they're not very good at them.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven, Onion

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate,

Ian Jones-Quartey as Bixbite, Snowflake Obsidian

Michelle Maryk as Larimar

Aparna Nancherla as Nephrite

Charlyne Yi as Doc, Leggy, Army

Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon

Kimberly Brooks as Zebra Jasper, Cherry Quartz

Natasha Lyonne as Smoky Quartz

Colton Dunn as Mr. Smiley

Dave Willis as Andy

--

On another lovely day in Beach City, Amethyst was walking along the boardwalk with a blindfolded Steven into Fish Stew Pizza. "Okay, two steps to the left." Amethyst instructed him as the two stepped into the pizza shop. "There's a chair right behind you." Steven did as he was told and sat down across from his sister figure. "Sit down aaaaand….okay."

When Steven undid his blindfold, he found himself inside Fish Stew Pizza with Amethyst in front of him and another Gem making pizza for them. "TADA!" Amethyst exclaimed with her arms excitedly spread out.

"Fish Stew Pizza? What a nice surprise." Steven giggled amusedly. "I mean, it has been a while since we last been here."

"No, that's not the surprise." Amethyst corrected him. "Notice anything different?" She gestured over to the Gem working with Kiki Pizza, perfectly slicing the toppings to pieces with utmost grace, laying them atop a crust that was put into the oven by Kiki.

"Oh, hi Steven!" the crab-like Gem greeted Steven.

"Bixbite? Is she working here?" Steven asked Amethyst.

"Yeah dude, and she's crushing it!" Amethyst answered. "Bixbite is an expert on slicing and dicing, and now she can put those skills to good use in a pizza parlor."

Another pizza came in fresh from the oven courtesy of Kofi, and Bixbite obediently brought it over to her friends. "Order up you guys!" she declared while setting the pie down. "So, any thoughts?"

"That's awesome!" Steven gasped at the pizza in awe of how well-made it was.

"Check out that 'za brah." Amethyst agreed, shapeshifting her hand into a ruler and a protractor to measure Bixbite's cuts. "Each slice exactly the same length, 45 degrees." She concluded, and then took a slice to eat. "Wow, pure perfection! I almost feel bad for eating this! You made me proud Bixie."

"Thanks for the compliments you guys." Bixbite thanked the pair. "And I couldn't have gotten here without you Amethyst."

As Bixbite walked away, Steven took a slice of the perfect pizza too. "I didn't even know she wanted a culinary career."

"Yeah, we talked a lot about her interests and experiences the other day." Amethyst revealed. "Then I set her up with Kofi, and here we are. Bixie is just the beginning y'know. I've been wanting to do something big for the school, so I've been helping Gems get human jobs, and everything is going amazing so far! I call it Gem-Human Excellence Mentorship, or G.H.E.M for short."

"I get it, like Gem." Steven came to a realization, much to Amethyst's mild frustration.

"No, I said Gem-Human Excellence Mentorship." Amethyst corrected. "Anote the H."

Suddenly, a Ruby clad in a suit and sunglasses burst through the door and let out a war cry while tearing off her sleeves, revealing the gemstone on her left shoulder before regaining her composure. "All clear my mayor."

Another Ruby dressed in the same clothes entered Fish Stew Pizza, wearing her shades over a yellow visor, by somersaulting into the room and stood alongside her compatriot. "All clear too." She repeated before allowing Mayor Nanafua to enter the pizza joint.

"You got Rubies in your program too?" Steven asked. "And why those Rubies in particular? I mean, they didn't try to kill me like Eyeball and Navy did, but they're still a little intense. Especially Army."

"I just found them to be a little more agreeable compared to those two." Amethyst replied while Doc & Army surveyed the area and Leggy helped the mayor to a chair. "Anyway, I got them working as bodyguards for the mayor."

"How many other Gems have you given jobs?" Steven asked again.

"Glad you asked!" Amethyst replied with a smile, and took Steven outside to show him her progress.

--

Amethyst took Steven from Fish Stew Pizza all the way to Beach City Funland, where she showed him just how many Gems she got to work there.

"Blue Lace Agate?" Steven gasped, seeing Blue Lace working at the ring toss booth and using her horns as targets, before discovering Biggs Jasper operating the Ferris wheel and Crazy Lace Agate handing out balloons. "Biggs? Crazy Lace? Have the Quartzes taken over Funland?"

"Yeah, I've been understaffed for so long so it was about time I had a few extra hands." Mr. Smiley said as he appeared behind the two Crystal Gems. "It could take a whole army to keep this park running!"

"An army?" Steven became worried, but then became distracted by what was going on in the sky.

"Hey check it out, Nephrite's doing some skywriting!" Amethyst cheerfully pointed out Nephrite drawing Steven's face in the sky with the smoke from Steven's cousin Andy's plane. "With all her experience flying dropships, it was only natural she do skywriting. Heck, she might even be better at flying than Andy! Still a bit of a perfectionist though."

As Nephrite crossed out her drawing, Steven began getting a little concerned with Amethyst's idea while they walked through Funland. "Um, Amethyst, isn't this a little on the nose?" he asked.

Amethyst however didn't pay him any mind, and instead pointed towards a pair of Gems giving a snowcone to the mayor. "Oh oh, look! Snowflake and Larimar found an ice-related job on the boardwalk!" she shouted while Snowflake Obsidian summoned a large pillar of ice for Larimar to scrape at, and the shavings formed a snowcone for Nanafua to enjoy.

"I still don't know about this." Steven muttered bemusedly.

"About what?" Amethyst asked him. "Everyone's doing pretty fine here."

"I mean, ice Gems doing ice jobs, pilot Gems piloting and guard Gems still guarding." Steven pointed out. "These are basically the exact same jobs they did on Homeworld."

"I swear Stee, these are totally different!" Amethyst nervously assured Steven, only for Leggy to walk by and prove her wrong.

"Wow, these jobs are exactly like what we once did in the old days." Leggy said before she high-fived Army.

"Thanks for the help Amethyst!" Army yelled to Amethyst.

"These are the jobs they wanted, I swear!" Amethyst continued nervously.

"Well sure, maybe they think they want to do this stuff," Steven explained. "but it's still up to us to get them out of their comfort zones!"

"I dunno man." Amethyst objected. "Comfortable can be good too."

"Bear with me for a bit here." Steven declared, and walked towards Snowflake and Larimar. "Hey you two, I just wanted to know what your duties were back on Homeworld."

"I dug ice trenches for the army!" Snowflake answered.

"And I made ice sculptures for the Diamonds!" Larimar added. "You should've really been there for some of my finest work, it was some of the best I've ever car-"

"So is ice kinda your default mode?" Steven cut Larimar off.

"Uh, yeah." Snowflake stated, sharing a look with the smaller Gem. "I mean, with a name like Snowflake Obsidian, what else do you think I do?"

"That's not the point I'm trying to make." Steven said. "Did you ever try doing something else?"

"Like filling ice trenches?" Snowflake answered, just as Nephrite coincidentally flew overhead on Andy's plane, giving Steven an idea.

"How about flying a plane?" Steven suggested.

--

Steven and Snowflake followed the plane to an open meadow where it landed. When Nephrite noticed Steven waving her down, she jumped out to see what was up.

"Hey Steven, what do you need?" Nephrite asked him.

"I'm gonna need you and Andy to talk with Snowflake here for a bit." Steven said, bringing attention to the Obsidian behind him. "I want to get her out of her comfort zone for a bit, so I think maybe she'd like to fly a plane."

"You sure about this kiddo?" Andy asked his cousin worriedly. "I mean, I already got a fine pilot right here." He patted Nephrite on the back, which gave her a smile. "But then again, I'll try anything once. Come on big guy."

Snowflake sheepishly got on the plane with Andy and began for take-off. "I don't snow about this." She punned while the flying machine quickly flew away.

"What's that, can't hear you!" Steven cried over the sound of the engine turning on and the plane finally leaving for the skies. "Have fun!"

--

Next, Steven took Larimar by the hand to the Appalachian, where Cherry Quartz was currently working. "I have an idea for you Larimar." He said to the little ice-carver. "You could operate the Funland roller-coaster. It's a great job, and you get to help people have fun."

"He's right, though I'd really like to actually ride it myself." Cherry agreed with Steven.

"Oh, what is that wonderful noise?!" Larimar asked excitedly while the coaster riders cheered from the adrenaline.

"That's just the screams of joy from everyone on this old thing." Cherry answered proudly.

"Human screams are my favorite of Earth's delights!" Larimar exclaimed happily. "I'll take his job, so I can hear them screaming forever!"

"Okay, that's a little creepy." Steven beamed nervously at Larimar's off-putting enthusiasm. "But I'm glad your heart's in the right place."

"One day, I shall make you scream Steven." Larimar said, before she was taken to the coaster's control room. "I suppose this must help it function, correct?"

"Yeah, you just pull the lever up and down to either speed it up or stop it." Steven instructed. "Why don't you give it a shot?"

"Give me the screams!" Larimar shrieked eagerly, pulling the lever up and making the riders yell louder, while Steven returned from the control room to see Amethyst waiting for him.

"See Amethyst? With just a few small changes, your plan is working even better than before!" Steven claimed, but the overcooked Quartz wasn't buying it. "Don't look so worried, let's go help more Gems!"

--

Much to Amethyst's dismay, Steven went around the town assigning the Gems new jobs far more different than the ones Amethyst gave them.

Instead of working at Funland, Ocean and Zebra Jasper were taken to work at Fish Stew Pizza. Bixbite, meanwhile, was now selling balloons. Army was now selling flowers, Teal Zircon was dragged out to become a taxi driver, Nephrite now worked selling snow cones, and Amethyst was still powerless to stop Steven.

"Wow, sure feels good to be helpful." Steven congratulated himself as he sat at a table at Fish Stew Pizza. "Hopefully everyone can get more experience outside of their comfort zones, but for now, I think I'm beat."

But just when Steven thought he could relax after a job well done, he instead got a pizza to the face. "Order up!" Zebra Jasper cried while she tossed more pizza at Steven and began messily cutting the pies up.

"Delivery, delivery, delivery!" Ocean Jasper yelled as she delivered pizzas by throwing them at passerby's outside.

"Here you go, and I'll take that." Leggy said to a downed person, handing him some flowers and taking his wallet. "Here you go." She added to a woman covered in pizza before taking her purse, and then triumphantly holding up the valuables while setting them on fire. "Yeah, mission complete!"

While Bixbite was handing out balloons, Ocean Jasper threw some pizza at her head, causing her to pop some of her merchandise and let the rest fly away. "Oh no, not the balloons!"

The balloons floated towards Andy's plane, giving Snowflake a shock and causing her to cover the aircraft in ice, making it lose control while the two screamed in fear.

Back on the ground, a car driven by Teal Zircon beeped loudly while it crashed into a lamppost, to the anger of her passenger. "Apologies sir, I have no idea how cars work." She apologized to her customer, who simply walked away in a huff. "Aw come on, not even a hug to make it up to you?!"

As Steven witnessed all the chaos he had accidentally created, he had only one thing to say. "I've made a huge mistake."

--

"Hit me with another Nephs." Amethyst ordered Nephrite to make her a syrupy snowcone at the arcade, oblivious to the chaos outside, when Steven came running in. "Oh hey Steven, want some?"

"No Amethyst, I need your help!" Steven panted in resignation. "Our brilliant plan is basically kaput. I tried to help all the Gems get out of their comfort zones, and look what happened!"

"See Steven, this is what happens when you don't listen!" Amethyst declared accusingly. "You didn't listen to any of my ideas today!"

"That's not true; the Gem mentorship thing is a great idea!" Steven tried assuring his friend.

"It was a great idea when the Gems were doing what they thought they were best at," Amethyst continued. "but then you came in and told everyone what you think they should do! Even me!"

"I was wrong." Steven admitted. "I should've put more trust in you with the program. I don't know why I thought I could just take it over like that! I'm so sorry for today."

"Well, I'm glad you came around Steven." Amethyst accepted his apology with a hug. "Cause right now, I think we have our work cut out for us."

Outside, Teal Zircon was trying her hardest to fix the car she crashed, but to no avail. When she noticed Steven and Amethyst looking at her, TZ changed her tune immediately. "Hey guys! Don't worry, I have this totally under control!" The car then burst into flames. "I'm being serious. Totally under control."

"Yeah, I can see." Steven replied sarcastically to Teal. "So what do you say Amethyst? Want to help me unhelp everyone I've helped?"

"Yeah, alright." Amethyst replied before noticing that Snowflake and Andy were close to crash-landing. With no time to lose, she dragged Steven by the arm out of the arcade, and they formed the chubby half-human fusion Smoky Quartz. "SMOKY!"

Summoning their yo-yo, Smoky Quartz tossed it at the plane and wrapped the string around its tail, but they accidentally cause the tail to break off and make everything worse. "Uh, oops."

While the plane kept spiraling out of control, Smoky bounded off Teal Zircon's destroyed car and summoned another yo-yo to keep them airborne. A third yo-yo was tossed soon after, forming a net that caught the plane and allowed Smoky to return it to the ground safely. "Hey guys, you cool?" Smoky giggled at their pun. "Get it, because of the ice?" The giggling soon ceased and they started panicking. "Anyways, I'm so sorry! You okay?"

"I'm fine." Snowflake answered while clambering out of the plane. "Except that I now have a fear of flying, so there's that."

"Seriously, my life flashed before my eyes for a bit." Andy added, adjusting his flight cap. "Good thing you came in for the save."

"Phew, thanks Uncle Andy." Smoky let out a sigh of relief before they turned to the havoc at Funland. "Gotta run, roller coaster on the fritz!" With that, Smoky made a run for the amusement park, in the process putting out the flaming car with the wind, where the Appalachian had now spun out of control.

"These are not the screams I was hoping for!" Larimar cried, unable to regain control of the ride.

Smoky Quartz began running faster as the coaster started to fall apart, all while having an inner argument with themselves. "Seriously, we're not gonna make it in time! C'mon, faster!"

"If you can save the universe Steven, then I can sure save a roller coaster!" Amethyst declared through Smoky.

"But saving the universe took time!" Steven replied hastily. "I don't have any time, and I sure won't take thousands of years to save this!"

As more of the coaster began falling apart, Smoky was in full panic mode. "Agh, what do I do?!"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Steven replied through their fusion, just as panicked. "Just give me a second!"

Suddenly, Smoky began turning pink thanks to the parts of them that came from Steven, and they suddenly started going even faster than before. Or rather, everything became slower.

"Whoa, cool!" Smoky gasped in amazement at their new form just as they made it to the Appalachian in time and jumped onto the broken rails. "Gotcha!" they exclaimed, but then they noticed how slow-moving everything and everyone had now become. With this sudden new power of slowing down time, Smoky decided to use it to their advantage.

At the front were Sour Cream and the ex-Mayor Dewey, whose hat was flying off his head from the intense speed. "Whoa okay, that goes there." Smoky muttered, putting the hat back on Mr. Dewey while borrowing Sour Cream's phone to take a picture of the three of them with, before returning the device to its owner. "Okay everyone, last stop!"

Smoky quickly got to work, taking all the humans out of the coaster, and safely returned them to the ground. As they were all tossed out of the ride and back onto the pier, they were dropped incredibly slowly due to the intense slowing of time. When Smoky rescued the last of the riders & safely returned them to the ground, time finally returned to its normal flow and they were no longer pink.

"Everybody's all safe and accounted for!" Smoky stated. "Now onto saving that coast-" They were too late to save the roller coaster as it went off the rails and launched off the broken rails into the ocean. "Ah well." They muttered. "Sometimes you can save the people from the roller coaster, but you can't save the coaster itself."

The coaster then combusted in the water, leaving a massive mushroom cloud in its wake. "And that's okay."

--

Later that day, Steven and Amethyst had successfully returned everything to normal and treated themselves to snow cones as a reward. Steven was mostly silent throughout, but Amethyst was ecstatic at how they had controlled time earlier as Smoky Quartz.

"Dude, that was intense!" Amethyst exclaimed. "We basically slowed time just like in one of those manga Lapis reads, but I'm bummed that it didn't come with the power to summon steamrollers. We were going so fast; everything almost came to a screeching halt!"

"Yeah, that was pretty nuts." Steven giggled anxiously.

"It was awesome!" Amethyst added, still super excited. The two of them looked around to admire what they fixed. Bixbite was back to working at Fish Stew Pizza, Nephrite was flying with Andy again, Teal Zircon swore never to drive a car again and the Rubies had now returned to defending the mayor.

"Now that I look at it, you were pretty spot-on with everyone's jobs." Steven confessed. "It just makes me wonder, you think I'm a bit too controlling?"

"Okay, maybe a teeny bit." Amethyst admitted to Steven. "As for me, I didn't just guess what everyone wanted to do. I actually sat down with all these Gems and asked what they wanted. Everyone has had a crazy history, so I felt they should be able to choose how they feel and what they should do in the future. I feel like I finally know what I needed to do; I just needed to figure it out for myself. But now, I feel like I'm just as good at helping Gems decide that for themselves."

"Yeah, you're right." Steven agreed.

"So, what about you?" Amethyst asked Steven. "Now that things are starting to settle down, what do you want to do? Come on, let's talk about your future! The doc is in, first session is free!"

"Thanks Amethyst." Steven laughed lightly. "But I don't know. I still want to help people, but I think I might be losing my touch."

Just then, Steven felt someone tap his shoulder, and he turned to see Larimar standing before him, with a large stuffed bear poorly hidden behind her. "Hello Steven, it's me, Little Larimar!" Larimar greeted Steven. "I got you a surprise. Can you guess what it is?"

"Uh, no." Steven answered, clearly noticing Larimar's bear, but he decided to play dumb to humor her.

"It's a teddy bear!" Larimar announced as she presented the bear to Steven, who took the toy kindly.

"That's so nice Larimar, thanks." Steven thanked Larimar. "But why did you get me this?"

"I got this for you as a way of saying thank you." Larimar responded. "I know I'm not great at handling the roller coaster, but I find myself excelling at giving things to others, like handing prizes to children! Oh, their joyous laughter warms me so. It sounds kind of like screaming!"

Steven and Amethyst were a little weirded out by Larimar's comparisons, but they were still happy she found something that made her happy.

"I think these Earth children quite like me too." Larimar continued. "I never felt so happy in my life."

Steven and Amethyst's nervous expressions turned into sweet smiles, but as the destroyed roller coaster drifted past them in the ocean, Steven made a shocking realization. "Oh my gosh, we forgot Onion!" he panicked seeing Onion still in the coaster, and Onion gave him a little wave, which eased Steven's nerves. "Eh, I'm sure he'll be fine."

--

Thanks for joining me for another chapter of Alternate Future. Like in Regular Future, Little Homeworld and Guidance were merely appetizers for what's to come, because the next chapter will be where things get really interesting. It will be a fusion of Rose Buds and Volleyball, and we'll even get our first hint of something, or someone, plotting against Steven and Era 3. What am I even talking about? Well, tune in next week to find out!

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #amethyst #bixbite #little larimar #snowflake obsidian #teal zircon #nephrite #smoky quartz

[floralelu]

Le Fleuriste Episode III:

WARNING: MENTIONS/USE OF ALCOHOL AND SMOKING

Word Count: 4,402

Summary: Lucas is confronted with the man of his dreams, as of one day of course. How will it go? Will Lucas fall deeper into love, or convince himself that Eliott isn’t the boy for him.

———————————————————————

Lucas spent the first few minutes after Eliott had sent the message standing on the sidewalk and staring at his screen. He exited the app and reopened it to make sure the message wasn’t a figment of his imagination and his mind wasn’t playing, what would be, a very mean trick on him. It wasn’t until his brain kicked into gear that he started to freak out.

“Oh my god, he really just-” Lucas didn’t know what to do. Here was the boy that he liked if he could even call it that seeing as it had only been one day since they met, saying that Lucas was beautiful and now all of a sudden Lucas didn’t know how to act. Maybe Yann would know? Lucas opened his messages and tapped on the conversation with Yann.

13:23 pm Lucas: YANN

13:25 pm Lucas: YANN JSNDJE

13:26 pm Lucas: LOIK AT RHIS

13:26 pm Lucas: [1 image attatchment]

13:27 pm Lucas: WHAT DO I DO?

13:31 pm Lucas: STOP FLIRTING WITH EMMA AND HELP ME

13:37 pm Lucas: you suck, i’m coming to the store

The walk back to King’s Grove felt like it took forever. Now that it was later in the day more people were outside. Some were running errands, some were just out walking, but all of them were in Lucas’ way. He lost count of how many shoulders he bumped into. It wasn’t until Lucas was pulling open the door to Frizzies that he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Emma looked up from her place at the register as the bell above the door rang.

She smiled at him, “Lucas! You’re back.”

“Hi Em, do you know where Yann is?”

“We were just talking a minute ago,” Lucas mentally rolled his eyes, “he might be in the back? You’re welcome to go look.”

Lucas thanked Emma and headed towards the back room. He found Yann sitting at a table, eating a sandwich from the cafe. Lucas walked up behind him and lightly slapped his shoulder.

Yann whipped his head around, “Ow! What the hell?”

Lucas glared at him, “That’s for not answering my messages. I’m in the middle of a crisis, Yann!” Lucas sat down into a chair across from his friend. Yann rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“What are you talking about?”

Lucas opened up his phone to his messages with Eliott and slid it across the table, “This!”

Yann read the messages and looked back up at Lucas after a minute. The two stared at each other, but Lucas was the first to speak.

“What?”

Yann sighed, “Lucas… you know he can see that you read this right? And it’s been what? Almost two hours since he sent it?”

Lucas twisted his head around to find the clock attached to the wall, his eyes growing wide while reading 14:35, “Oh shit, oh my god. He probably thinks he creeped me out or something. I just didn’t know how to respond. Yann, I have to fix this.”

“Woah, breathe Luc. It’s gonna be okay. Just message him back and say thank you.” Yann reached over the table and laid a comforting hand onto Lucas’s shoulder.

“I know it seems like I’m overreacting, and maybe I am, but no one like Eliott has ever made me feel like this, Yann. It’s been less than 24 hours since I met the guy but I can’t get him out of my head. There’s something here that I don’t want to lose, I just don’t know what that thing is yet.”

Yann looked across the table at Lucas, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Lucas may not know what it is, but Yann sure had a guess. Lucas had never talked about someone like this. After Lucas came out, the gang had promised to always have Lucas’s back, and they’d be his wingmen when needed. While most of the time, the boys failed to find someone up to his “standards” (though Yann would disagree with that statement, simply calling Lucas picky), Lucas was glad to have friends like them. Seeing Lucas so upset at the current situation, Yann knew that he truly didn’t want this to ruin his chances with Eliott.

“Well, we know he finds you attractive, so that’s a good sign, right?” Yann asked.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” Lucas shrugged, “but that won’t mean anything if he decides he doesn’t want to talk to me because I left him on seen.” Lucas put his head in his hands, “I’m usually able to talk to guys, why is this so hard?”

Yann chuckled, “Luc, I think you actually like this guy, that’s the difference.”

“That’s the thing though, I don’t even know anything about him. I know his name, his Instagram and where he works, but that’s it.”

“So? Find something to talk about, learn more about him. What do you think dates are for?” Yann raised an eyebrow, “I bet if you asked him to go out right now he’d say yes.”

Lucas raised his head, “Haha, very funny. Not happening. I don’t need to embarrass myself anymore just because you think he’d say yes.”

Yann raised his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, I’m just saying. When have I ever been wrong?”

“Well,” Lucas tilted his head to the side, “how about the time we went to that party and I said maybe we shouldn’t get completely wasted because we had a test the next day and you said, “Luc, we’ll be fine!” but we ended up missing that test because we were nursing our hangovers? Or there was the time you told Baz that the girl at the pretzel stand was hitting on him, so he went up there only to get a smoothie thrown in his face? And let’s not forget the time when the only milk left in the fridge was expired but you said it would be okay to drink and all four of us-”

“Okay!” Yann cut Lucas off, “There have been times where I was wrong, I get it. But I know I’m right about this.”

Lucas hummed in response, looking back at the open messages on his phone when Yann spoke up again, “What if you went to see him?”

Lucas’s head shot up at the suggestion, “You mean like right now?”

“Well, yeah. His store is just across the street, it’s not like you have to go far.” Yann was looking at Lucas, waiting for his reply.

“I don’t know, Yann.” Lucas sighed, “Wouldn’t be weird for me to show up to his store after not replying to his message. By accident.”

“Right. Well, as I said earlier, maybe just respond with a thank you and see where it goes? At least let him know you didn’t mind the compliment. With leaving him on seen he might think you aren’t interested.”

“I hate this. I’m gonna head over the cafe to get some lunch. Thanks, Yann.”

Yann smiled at him, “No problem, dude. We’ll figure this out.”

Lucas made his way out of the backroom and towards the front of the store. Emma was still at the register. Lucas said goodbye as he left the music store and headed across the street to the cafe. Lucas pulled the door open and stepped inside. All at once, he was hit with the smell of fresh-baked bread and lemon. He glanced around the cafe, spotting Manon behind the counter ringing a customer up and Alexia plating some pastries behind the glass display case. Lucas was here to eat lunch, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to update the girls on the Eliott situation. He made his way over to the line behind the register and looked up at the menu. He settled on a sandwich and, of course, one of their danishes.

“Hey!” Manon was looking at him with a smile on her face, “you’re back again! What can I get you?”

Lucas told her his order and Manon rang him out. It wasn’t until she was handing him his change that he added, “When you and Alex get a second, could I talk to you guys?”

Manon looked at him questioningly, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes! I think. I just have to tell you guys about the Eliott thing.”

A smile broke out on Manon’s face, “Oh! The Eliott thing, is that what we’re calling this? Once Alexia and I can catch a break we’ll come to find you.”

“Thanks, Manon.”

She nodded her head and Lucas went to go sit down. He picked a booth in the back corner, away from the late lunchtime rush. Lucas peered out the window and watched the people outside. There was an older man laughing at something the woman next to him said. There was also a little boy holding on to his mother’s hand as they walked down the cobblestone street. They reminded Lucas of himself and his mother when he was younger and everything was a little less complicated. Lucas didn’t hear the incoming footsteps, but the voice startled him out of his daze.

“Hi there.” It was Eliott.

“Uh, h-hi.” Lucas gulped, was Eliott angry with him? For not replying to his message?

“Is everything alright?” Eliott asked. “You look like you might faint.”

Oh god, Lucas would never be able to face Eliott again if he fainted. He needed to chill the fuck out. He could be suave right? He had been with the ladies once upon a time.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, dude. Nothing to worry about here,” Lucas chuckled. “Just haven’t eaten in a while, you know?”

Eliott slid into the booth across from him. His knees brushed Lucas’ and Lucas couldn’t help but blush at the slightest bit of contact.

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning, business is always busy at Barney’s, especially during this time of year.” Eliott smiled at him.

God, that smile. All Lucas wanted was to be able to make Eliott smile, and kiss the apples of his cheeks when he did.

“I’ll be right back, I’ve been craving one of their danishes lately,” Eliott stood up and then turned back at Lucas. “By the way, you’re cute when you blush.”

Once Eliott had reached the counter and began ordering, Lucas finally felt his lungs give out from the breath he had been holding. This boy was so flirtatious, and Lucas had no experience in flirting, at least with men anyway.

Eliott returned to his seat across from Lucas, only to be greeted with Alexia carrying plates of food in her arms.

“Ham and cheese sandwich accompanied by a sweet cheese danish for Lucas,” Alexia retrieved Lucas’ plate and set it across from him. “And a cherry jam danish for the dashing gentleman.” Alexia smiled at Eliott and offered her hand. “I’m Alexia, you must be Eliott, the boy Lucas won’t stop talking about.”

Eliott glanced at Alexia’s hand before shaking it. “So he’s been talking about me?” Eliott grinned at Alexia before he cocked an eyebrow at Lucas, which only made Lucas blush harder.

“He sprinted in here this morning bright and early just for us to tell him all about you. However, he only ran into a dead end since we didn’t know much about you. The love in his eyes would make any woman melt or man in this case.”

Lucas slapped Alexia’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

Lucas widened his eyes and nodded towards Eliott.

“Right! I’ll leave you guys alone. Have fun you two!” Alexia smiled and waved back at them as she was heading towards the counter to return to her duties.

“So, you’ve been talking about me?”

“Yeah,” Lucas felt cornered. Was he really going to confess his one-day-old crush to Eliott already? No, no way. “She’s just joking, you know how best friends are.” Lucas poked and prodded at his danish, embarrassed.

“Yeah, Idriss wouldn’t stop talking about how clumsy I was to Mrs. Lawerence one day when I broke two vases. The first time wasn’t even my fault! Ginger was the one who knocked the vase over!” Eliott shook his head and took a bite of his danish.

“Okay, wait, who’s Mrs. Lawerence and Ginger?” Lucas asked.

“Mrs. Lawerence was a good friend of my grandfather’s and Ginger is the cat that always hangs out in the garden behind the shop and sometimes hangs out inside during the summers, she gets herself into trouble.”

“I see,” Lucas chuckled, both at the story and the fact that he was starting to relax. “Hey, I’m sorry for not replying to your message earlier.”

“Oh! It’s okay, I figured you got busy or something,” Eliott took another bite of his sandwich. “I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything by what I said. I have a tendency-”

Lucas cut him off.

“You didn’t freak me out.”

“Good,” Eliott sighed in relief. “Would you like to hang out after this? If you’re not busy of course, we could go to the garden behind the shop. Maybe you can meet Ginger?”

Was Eliott asking him out on...a date? No, he couldn’t be. They’re just going to “hang out”, as friends do, not as boyfriends do.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas took a bite of his sandwich. “I’d love to.”

———————————————————————

It was dusk now, the birds were singing peaceful lullabies and most of the shops were closing for the day, including Barney’s. Lucas followed Eliott into the alleyway.

“This looks like a great place for me to get murdered, great choice, Eliott,” Lucas chuckled at his own joke unless...was Eliott a serial killer?

“And then, Lucas was never to be seen again,” Eliott said and then laughed wickedly. “Seriously, I’m not a serial killer though.” Eliott finally unlocked the wooden gate leading to the oasis among the shops. “Welcome to my evil lair!” Eliott laughed maniacally again.

“You’re starting to creep me out,” Lucas chuckled and followed Eliott through the gate.

Lucas gaped at the garden before him. A gravel path trailed down the center of the garden. It was divided by another, less intimidating wooden fence than before, guarded by another gate. Behind the gate was a greenhouse that held fruit trees of many kinds as well as tropical flowers. A variety of trees and shrubbery surrounded the greenhouse. To the right of the greenhouse were wooden boxes, displaying newly sprouted plants from the soil, each marked by a popsicle stick that labeled the names of each row of sprouts. On the other side of the divided garden was what looked like to be a place for hosting and maybe being a place to get away from the busy shop life. Lucas knew he could spend hours here, especially with Eliott.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Eliott asked, looking down and meeting Lucas’ eyes. “I used to come out here all the time when I was a kid, to paint and to read, I still do.”

Lucas jumped at the sudden contract at his feet with an orange cat, brushing between his ankles and it’s tail wrapping around his leg.

“This is Ginger, I’m assuming?”

“The very one,” Eliott squatted down to pet her and Lucas matched his stance. “She likes to be petted on her neck.”

“Here?” Lucas asked and touched Ginger’s neck to which she hissed and pawed at Lucas, catching him off guard. Lucas leaned back, missing Ginger’s claws.

“No,” Eliott laughed and reached for Lucas’ hand. He placed it on the side of Ginger’s neck. “See? Feel her purring?”

Lucas could feel it, but it wasn’t the only thing purring. Lucas’ heart raced and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Eliott didn’t remove his hand. It was warm and comforting. He kept it there and felt Ginger’s purring with him. Lucas prayed it was too dark to tell that Lucas was blushing even though Eliott already called it cute.

Lucas felt the need to change the subject in order to keep his cool.

“So, you paint?” Lucas asked, glancing between Eliott and the cat.

“Yeah! I actually used to host art shows in this garden, but I mostly paint for myself now,” Ginger became fed up with Lucas’ atrocious petting technique and moved into Eliott’s lap, Eliott petted her tenderly. “It’s funny,” Eliott giggled. “I have this obsession with sunflowers.”

Lucas remembered the sunflower being held up in front of Eliott’s face on his Instagram profile.

“I assume that’s your favorite flower then?” Lucas asked, picking at the grass beneath him.

“It’s only the best choice as far as favorite flowers go,” Eliott explained, rolling the sleeves up of his grey sweater, revealing a tattoo of a flower with an eye in the middle along with another tattoo in a cursive script that Lucas couldn’t read in the dim light. “I mean, who wouldn’t choose that as their favorite flower? It’s bright and beautiful, it reminds me of summer no matter what time of year I look at it.”

Lucas smiled at the easy conversation. That’s how everything has felt so far with Eliott. Easy. He couldn’t even think as to why he was so nervous this morning, all he had to do was talk to him.

“Lucas, you look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Eliott stared at him and tilted his head like a confused puppy. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking…” Lucas trailed off. He couldn’t reveal how much this conversation meant to him. He couldn’t tell Eliott that his eyes had a certain sparkle no star could ever match when he talked about something that he was passionate about. Shit, for all Lucas knows, Eliott is straight. “about how much I want to see these paintings of yours.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!” Eliott jumped up and offered his hand to Lucas.

“Wait, now? Where are we going?”

“To my apartment!” Eliott exclaimed. Lucas saw Eliott’s frown in reaction to Lucas’ panicked look. “Lucas, you don’t have to go,” Eliott started giggling. “I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Lucas couldn’t let this get to him. This boy is straight, Lucas told himself. Nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t that Lucas was afraid of Eliott being a serial killer or anything of the sort, he was afraid that he would have his first kiss tonight, or his first time. A series of new experiences could happen tonight, one after another, but was Lucas ready for it?

“Says you! I bet your last victim is buried beneath me right now!” Lucas joked. Eliott’s expression remained unchanged. “I’m kidding.” Lucas took Eliott’s hand and stood up. He blushed at contact that sent shivers through his spine and butterflies soaring in his stomach.

“So, you’ll come with me?” Eliott smiled, still holding Lucas’ hand. Lucas nodded and felt Eliott’s thumb stroke his knuckles.

———————————————————————

At the end of King’s Grove were some apartment complexes, mostly for the shop keepers, but some hipsters and retired folks lived among them too. The buildings matched the rest of Annecy with a bright color palette. The apartment complex was only a short walk from the flower shop.

The two trailed up the stairs and were greeted by a white door with a wreath made up of delicate flowers including some Baby’s Breath from what Lucas could recognize.

“Cute wreath.” Lucas chuckled.

“I know, I know, it was a housewarming gift from Mrs. Lawrence,” Eliott unlocked the door. “Anyways, welcome to casa de Eliott.”

Lucas was greeted with a massive amount of greenery scattered about the apartment. There were flowers tucked in various vases and bottles, and pots of ferns and vines rested upon shelves. All of the plants were kept neatly trimmed and didn’t appear to be unruly. Along the walls were paintings of sunflowers in many styles, some realistic and others more cartoonish. The kitchen and the living room were joined together and felt spacious despite how small the apartment actually was. Lucas walked around in the living room as Eliott was looking for something to drink in the fridge. Lucas could spot what seemed to be a garden on the balcony.

“Don’t trip on Francine!” Eliott warned Lucas. Lucas looked down at the small pot of succulents at his feet. “She’s very fragile,” Eliott walked over, handing Lucas one of the beers he found in the fridge and moved “Francine” to the coffee table behind Lucas. “My apologies for all the plants, whatever we don’t have room for in the shop, I take home.”

“But you name your plants?” Lucas asked, twisting off the metal lid off the bottle.

“Of course! What do you think I am? Crazy?” Eliott grabbed his beer and twisted off the cap as well. “Cheers.” The two clinked bottles and took a drink.

“Well, I don’t own any plants to name, plus I’d kill them anyway,” Lucas approached the wall, studying one of the sunflower paintings. It was just a sunflower on a white canvas, but it was painted thick globs of paint that appeared still wet as if Lucas could mess it up with a single touch. “I like this one,” Lucas said as Eliott stood beside him.

“Me too,” Eliott smiled, admiring the painting before them, taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. “I feel like a sunflower is somehow the representation of me.”

“What do you mean?” Lucas asked, giving Eliott a puzzled look.

“Sometimes, I appear happy and people don’t see the darkness that goes on within me, you know?” Eliott’s bright smile left his face.

“Wow, that was pretty deep,” Lucas chuckled at his comment, trying to lighten the mood. “What flower do you think represents me?”

Eliott turned to face Lucas now, they were so close to each other. Lucas could feel Eliott’s breath on his face.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”

It felt like Eliott was staring into his soul. Lucas could kiss him, right here, right now. He could push every fear aside and just kiss him. He could make their forever start today, he could-.

“Do you smoke?” Eliott asked, pulling a joint from his pocket.

“Oh, I used to,” Lucas stared at the joint. Getting drunk and high with Eliott? What could go wrong! “I still do sometimes, with my friends.”

Eliott nodded and lit the join between his lips, once he lit it he took a long drag and removed it from his lips. Lucas stared at the puff of smoke that escaped from Eliott’s lips. Fuck, he’s so hot.

Eliott offered Lucas the joint and he took it, taking a long drag from it and exhaling. He was starting to relax more and more as the alcohol and weed took effect. He felt himself beginning to unwind.

“God, I can’t believe someone like you names their plants,” Lucas said as he leaned back on the couch. “You’re, like, ridiculously handsome too, I bet women find it sweet as hell that a hot guy like you names his plants.” Lucas laughed and shook his head. Fuck, what was he even saying right now?

“They do,” Eliott laughed along with him. “My ex-girlfriend found it hilarious.”

So that was it, Eliott was straight. Lucas was just starting to think that he got lucky, being in the apartment and sitting across from the most beautiful man he had ever seen. That was it, the end of their forever, all over in the span of one day. Lucas felt a sob in the back of his throat, he could never change how Eliott saw him. He could never kiss those lips or play with his gorgeous golden hair. Back to the fucking drawing board.

Ping! Finally, something to pull Lucas out of his thoughts and get him out of here. He could breakdown at any moment.

22:17 p.m. Yann: Hey, Lu. I just got home. Where are you?

“Everything alright?” Eliott asked.

22:18 p.m. Lucas: yeah, sorry, i had a drink with eliott and lost track of time.

22:19 p.m. Yann: Oooooo. I hope I’m not interrupting! Are you still a virgin?

“Um, yeah, I should go. My friends are wondering where I am,” Lucas glanced up at Eliott, hardly able to look at him. Hard to think that Lucas possibly had a chance with a boy like Eliott.

22:19 p.m. Lucas: no you’re fine. i actually was just leaving. and yes, i am very much a virgin.

22:20 p.m. Yann: Lucas, I don’t want you to walk home by yourself. I‘m sending an uber for you. Send me your location.

22:20 p.m. Lucas: [Lucas shared his location with you]

Lucas stood up and placed his phone in his pocket. He headed for the door and Eliott followed.

“Lucas, are you sure you’re okay?” Eliott asked as Lucas stepped into the hall.

“Yeah, yeah fine. It’s just been a while since I was high,” Lucas lied. Well, not a total lie, but that wasn’t what was causing his sudden urge to bolt. “Been a while, you know?” Eliott nodded.

“I hope you feel better,” Eliott said, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder.

As much as Lucas didn’t want to feel the sparks and the butterflies, he did. Lucas smiled and waved before heading down the stairs.

Lucas reached the bottom of the stairs and waited for Uber to arrive. He hugged himself to keep himself warm from the cold breeze that was blowing. How could he be so stupid? Falling for a boy who is out of his league and is straight. He felt like a fool.

The Uber pulled up, rolling down her windows and greeting Lucas. Lucas was about to enter the car when he heard running footsteps and a voice.

“Wait!”

It was Eliott. What could he possibly want out of me? Lucas thought.

“Lucas, wait,” Lucas turned to meet Eliott jogging up to him. “Let me take you out tomorrow.”

“Out? Why?” Lucas asked, gazing up at Eliott. God, that face, he would never get tired of looking at it.

“I want to get to know you,” Eliott explained. Lucas was silent, thinking if he should really continue to break his heart more. “Please, for me, for us.”

Lucas couldn’t pass this up. He might not get his forever with Eliott as lovers, but he couldn’t pass up a forever with him as friends.

“I’d love to, Eliott.”

#elu fic #elu au #lucas x eliott #skam france eliott #eliott demaury #eliottandlucas #lucas and eliott #lucas lallemant #skam fr s3 #skam france #skam rekames #skam fanfic #skam fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #eliott x lucas #elu #le fleuriste #evak fic #skam evak #even x isak #skamfr #plants #succulents #wildflowers #flowers #indoor plants

[willddheartt]

Babylon: Neon Lights | C.H. Chapter Nine: Best Friend

“she is both hellfire and holy water, the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her”

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong.

DISCLAIMER: SOME PARTS MIGHT BE R RATED !!

Series warnings: Substances (alcohol & cigarettes), Anger (snappy comments), Smut

Series Masterlist

September 4th Labor Day weekend. Well not technically yet, but I didn’t have work for the last two days and Monday the store is closed. We all showed up at Michaels with coolers full of alcohol that would surely go home empty on Monday.  Where it was our first night and the weekend was still young the drinks were light but still enough to have most passed out by 12:00 PM. 

It was shocking how much the moonlight lit up Michael's kitchen as Calum and I sat on the floor, passing a spoon between the pair of us as we dug into a tub of chocolate ice cream.  “I’m not sure,” I shrugged, handing him the spoon, “I mean I know I don’t want to stay working the same job when I’m 40, but I feel stuck. I just don't know how I could get out, you know?” I asked, answering his question on if I was doing something I truly loved.  “It's easy to get out you know,” Calum said, “Sure it seems hard when you just think about it and before you do it. But once you’re actually out it's the best thing you’ll do,” He added   “What about you?” I asked, “Is this something you love doing?” He nodded, passing the spoon my way, “Sure it's crazy and being an online presence is stressful sometimes but I wouldn't trade it. The band is the best thing I ever did,” He spoke.  “How’s it feel knowing any of the fans would probably jump on the chance of being your friend? The legal ones,” I asked  “I think some of them just say that because they know a version of myself I want them to.” 

“Mmm, I have a good one,” Calum said holding his hand up as he talked, “Your passions, tell me about them.”  I shrugged, “I don't know, I don't like saying one thing is a passion or a hobby then having people expect me do those things,”  “Okay, then what do you do when you’re not with us, or when you’re alone?” Calum rephrased  “I make what some would like to call art, doodles and some poetry, but that is something I keep for myself, I don't ever share it. I like having my secrets, even from people close to me, its my way of staying myself. But I also take photos, sometimes if I need some extra cash, I’ll sell some prints or take photos for someone but that doesn't happen a lot. When money gets involved it feels more like a job than something I enjoy doing.” I explained, noticing how Calum’s dark brows knit together as he listened to what I was saying, nodding to indicate he got it all. “Your turn, what are your hobbies?” I asked turning his question on himself 

As Calum explained what he does in his free time, I realized neither of us knew that much about each other, and that we were just as deep as the other. There were different levels and layers. That of an onion or an ogre. 

Though I was paying attention and trying my hardest to keep my focus on his words, the dark abyss that was his eyes captivated me. In any lighting Calum's eyes looked almost blacker than any darkness night could come up with, but in the pale moonlight, you could faintly see the outline of his pupil in his iris. Naturally his eyes were beautiful, just like everything else about Calum, but tonight it was consuming, how beautiful his eyes were.

I fell so far into the dark pools that I almost missed his next question, “What was your high school experience like?”  I laughed at the question, “Really?” I asked.  Calum nodded, “I know you know mine, but I don’t know much about you in school and I want to,”  “Nobody knows about it, I don’t flaunt it. High school wasn’t an exciting experience for me and I’ve mostly left it behind. I changed everything about myself when I left, name, hair colour, everything. I was alone most of the time and spent way too much time thinking about leaving and getting out. Sleeping my teenage years away.”  “Now you have us, I think your high school self would be proud,” Calum smiled. I nodded, “I would be.” I chucked “Although, I’m still mad I never got to have the high school cliche of slow dancing with my boyfriend at a school dance,”  “You’ve never slow danced?” Calum asked, astounded  I nodded, “I didn’t go to dances.” 

Calum jumped up to his feet, holding his hand out to me, “I'm going to change that right now,” He said, pulling me up once I grabbed his hand.  “Now?” I asked, “But there no music,”  “There will be,” Calum said, pulling me into him as he started humming a slow song.  I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held my waist, humming close to my ear. Calum swayed us slowly from side to side as he slowly moved us in a circle. 

A few minutes later when Calum pulled back he smiled, “How was that?” He asked  “It was nice,” I smiled 

-

The entire weekend went by in a slow blur. I vaguely remembered things from the days, but few from the night. It was like a weekend long bender. I spent most days tipsy and smoking, Calum by my side doing the same. Violet left Sunday morning to spend the remainder of the weekend with Travis.  The 72 hours of drinking and laughs came to an end when Monday rolled around, leaving me bedridden with a terrible hangover. 

My skull felt like it was being gripped by the hands of a giant, one who was too friendly to crush it but who also wanted to cause temporary pain. When I stumbled into the apartment the first thing I did was draw the curtains shut before grabbing a bottle of water and debating the thought of taking more than the recommended amount of aspirin.  Sleeping most of Monday away. I didn’t even hear when Violet came home in the afternoon, or the countless messages that dinged on my phone with photos and videos from the weekend that was probably full of bad and stupid ideas. 

September 8th Thankfully, the hangover from hell only lasted a day and by  I had the afternoon, or closing, shift, leaving me folding up the clothes and cleaning up the store from the people in the morning. Something I didn’t mind in all honesty. 

As I hid away folding a pile of men's dress pants back in the dressing rooms, I kept my phone on me since the manager was never in for closing shifts.  Calum and I were talking my entire shift, laughing over the weekend, talking about what we were doing tonight and eventually coming up with pizza at his place after I got off. I smiled to myself, tucking my phone back in my pocket, knowing he didn’t have just pizza in mind. Since we had distinguished our friends with benefits type of relationship, I was over at his place almost every night but Wednesday and Friday. 

When I came into work at one, I was unable to cover the marks on my neck that were a memory of the weekend we just had, and everyone gave me hell for it. Thankfully the manager wasn’t in or I would have got it worse then I already did. Sure our friends knew about Calum and I but when Rylee from the shop saw the dark purple marks peeking up from the collar of my t-shirt and lost it, rapid firing multiple questions, much like Violet did but less personal towards the person who left them. 

Although my shift was only five hours it felt like nine. When I walked into Calum’s apartment, I dropped my purse at the door, kicking my shoes off and dramatically laid down on the couch.  “Long day?” He chuckled from the kitchen, as he brought the box of pizza and our drinks over to the table in the living room “You wouldn't even believe it,” I sighed, sitting up when Calum handed me a glass of soda. 

“You got a little something right, there.” He smirked, pointing to his neck  “Every cover up attempt I tried this morning failed so they stayed,” I laughed  “Boss say anything?”  I shook my head, “They’re normally not in for the afternoon shifts,”  “What I'm getting from that statement is, when you work in the afternoons and stay over we can spend more time cuddling.” Calum smirked  I laughed, “Sure, Cal,” 

The pizza box laid closed on the coffee table, having been finished long ago. Calum laid in between my legs as we watched t.v. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair. Everything about this was not your traditional FWB scenario, we did more than fuck, most times he greets me with a kiss either to my cheek or by pressing one to my lips, and most mornings we cuddle. It's more than a recurring night stand. 

Calum turned over so he was low looking at me, a small smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, one that didn't seem to leave tonight.  “Sup?” I asked softly  “Nothin,” He smiled, “You’re pretty though,”  “So are you,” I replied, bringing the hand that was running through his hair down to hold his chin, bringing him up so I could peck his lips. 

One kiss turned into another, and then another until we were making out on the couch. Calum sat back, pulling me to sit up with him as he pulled me onto his lap. My hands roamed over his body, from his shoulders down his chest, and under his shirt. Once I started tugging on the hem of his shirt and slowly pushing it up, Calum pulled away quickly to remove the article of clothing, quickly connecting our lips back and slipping his tongue in my mouth. 

One kiss, two kiss, red kiss, blue kiss, and my shirt had come off along with my jeans. His hands came down to the waistband of my underwear, he smiled into the kiss against my neck once he noticed the little bat print, looking up at me, “Batman?”  I nodded, with a sheepish smile as a slight blush crept up onto my cheeks, up until this point he had only seen my nice lacy panties.  “Cute,” Calum mumbled before capturing my lips again, slipping a hand past the waistband of my batman underwear, chuckling when an involuntary squeak of surprise slips past my lips when his fingers swiped at my heat.  “Love catching you off guard,” He teased as I tugged his bottom lip between my teeth  “Listen, I know you’re going for slow here but could you get on with it?” I breathed out.  “Is that your way of asking for me to get on with it and fuck you?” Calum laughed as I nodded, sucking on the side of his neck.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagine #Calum hood #Calum hood imagine #Calum hood smut #Ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings #Luke hemmings imagine #Michael clifford #Michael clifford imagine #5sos smut

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, part 9.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Y’all thought that I’m dead? I am back, bitcheees. Also, I want you to listen to a song Fly Me To The Moon by Bobby Womack because it influenced the ending a lot.

Warnings: You are not going to be pleased about what Fezco has to confess. Also revealing a bit of Fran’s past, so some big angst and sadness.

Word Count: 3.7 K

Read the rest here, babe:  PART 1  PART 2  PART 3  PART 4  PART 5  PART 6  PART 7  PART 8

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum (I wasn't going tagging with this shit, but I just wanted to let ya know, bro), @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers

There's a lot of things from your growing up that you completely forget as time passes by. There's only so little that you remember. Probably your first day at high school. Your first kiss. Your first alcohol experience. Your first sex.

And surely that one thing which needs a shit ton of courage. That step. That big, big step right into the lair of adulthood. To have your parents meet the person you love for the first time.

When you're introducing the first one, you're somehow ridiculously nervous - your parents aren't, because they know that most probably they aren't the first and the last love of your life. But that meeting is really important to you. Probably so important that you feel sick and your hands tremble.

You tried to keep your relationship away from the knowledge of your parents for the longest you could. But nobody said that you're good at keeping secrets. Your mom already knew that something's up when she was putting someone's clothes into the washing machine. But she didn't say anything.

Then, you started to go out a lot more often than before. You still were hanging out with Rue, Jules, Lexi and sometimes even Fran, but the truth was that Fezco was taking a good portion of your time.

Sometimes you went to his shop to help him and Ash with the business, sometimes he invited you over to have dinner and watch some movie together. Sometimes you just hung out in the park, he was taking a nap on your booty, taking it as a pillow while you studied. But it was taking you a lot of time to be fair.

The last sign of you having a boyfriend was a hickey. You didn't have any idea of how that happened, but one time you came home from Rue's hangout evening and there was a bright, red hickey. And your mom wasn't blind.

"What's his name? Or hers, I don't judge after Fran's big coming out." - She asked with a playful voice. You were sitting at the table, eating your dinner slowly, but you almost choked at her words. Your eyes almost popped out like if you were a deer in the headlights, you hadn't got any idea of what the fuck you should tell her. - "Come on now, you're with him or her for a long time now. Do they even have something to wear when you took all of their clothes?" - She asked again when you sat there in shock for another minute.

"Fezco. We call him Fezco." - You said quietly. After all that time, you were a part of his life as he slowly told you most of the things step by step. Once, he started with Ash and his past. That got you pretty deep. Life was cruel to them in all of the ways it could.

When you were ready to ask about the back part of his house, he told you about his grandma. Fezco tried his best to explain what happened to her and why he's taking care of her. He owned his grandma everything he had. Sometime later he told you what was the reason for him dropping out of school. He was a complex person with a colorful past, which made you sad, to say at least.

"So you have a boyfriend. I see." - Your mom giggled. Sometimes you two were arguing, those arguments were heated and loud, but which parent who had a normal relationship with their child didn't argue with them at some point? And sometimes you were just best friends, like at that moment. - "Is he younger? Older? Hope he's not like... Forty."

"Mom!" - You cried out loud. This conversation was just embarrassing at that point. - "He's five years older than me."

"That's nice, so he's an adult. I'm expecting that he has his thoughts and priorities set straight. How much handsome he is?" - She asked the next question very blatantly, without giving a single shit about your nervousness.

"Oh, you have no idea." - You sighed dreamily. Your mom was thrilled.

"I got that feeling when I met your dad. He was fuckable to say at least." - She giggled and your brain went on an automatic shut down. Your mom, a Christian lady in her best years, just told you that she thought about fucking your dad. You didn't know if you were more shocked or more amused. She certainly was happy that you have a boy - since Fran's 'first time' was a girl, but she put too much effort.

"That's enough. I'm ending the conversation right here." - You stuttered and got up to get the plate into the sink.

"Ok. Say to Fez that we'll be having lasagna this Sunday. He should come and say hi." - And that was the official moment you were fucked. Before you even got a chance to pull your shit together, Fran was making fun of you for being so obvious. You could keep that relationship secret for at least other few months before your parents would find out.

"But obviously, ya the clumsiest little shit ever, aren't ya, sis?" - Fran asked with her laptop on her thighs, smoking a joint and eating a load of cookies in the process. What? She was hungry as fuck when she was stoning her ass the hell out. - "And I'm curious about dat mysterious boy as well."

To be honest, you didn't know that Fezco is dealing. You had no idea at that point. You may hear some talks, but you weren't sure. And Fran didn't know that her dealer is your boyfriend. And if you had any idea that all of those worlds will collapse and explode, becoming one and new. Agatha Christie couldn't write a better plot twist.

Your last chance at that point was Fezco. You were praying for him not wanting to go on your family meeting - but that fucker was all positive about that. You didn't ask further questions, but it was because he hadn't a normal family on his own, so he wanted to meet yours. Secretly, he was eager for that meeting to happen three days prior.

"You look like a normal, subtle boy. Jesus. Can we get out of the car, for god's sake?" - You mumbled to him nervously. Your mom was taking the meeting really seriously - she ordered you to take a dress and some nice shoes and Fezco was aboard with that idea. He took the white shirt and black tuxedo pants that he got on your first date.

"Ya really think dat ya ma gonna like the bowl we bought?" - Fezco asked as he undid the seatbelt. At that point, he was just messing with you. The worst part was that you knew it. He loved the nervous you because you couldn't sit still and you mumbled all the time. You were cute as hell.

"Fuck that bowl and let's go. I want it to end already." - You got out and he did as well with a confident chuckle. You weren't too far from murdering him at the spot at that moment. Fezco looked like a fucking piece of cake, a delight to be around, and that made everything even worse for you. How someone so muted and... How was he able to pull off those looks so easily? It was fucking you up.

"Geez, chill. It's going to be just fine, baby girl. Ya will see." - He smiled at you and kissed your temple. Your mom was already opening the door for you when he saw you and a slim, nice looking boy by your side. Of course, she had her dark violet dress on.

Your dad was looking just fine. But you knew he ain't too happy about you bringing a boy to his house. You were his little girl and while he was ready to take Fran as the irresponsible adult she was, you were the sweet one who was never supposed to grow up. And yet, there you were, shining in your glory with a nervous smile on your lips.

Your mom made even Fran and Cal dress up too. Cal loved dressing up for an occasion since he was a little kid, but you were sure as hell that your mom was holding a knife under Fran’s throat to make her do it. 

The actual introduction went without further problems. Your mom was kind and nice to him, he also had a big plus because of the bowl he bought, your dad had an unnatural expression on his face and Cal was pulling off his best words. But when Fez was offering his hand to Fran, her face got paler as she shook it. 

Something wasn't adding up. She watched Fezco without a word, without a single emotion in her face - it was like if she was looking at a ghost. That wasn’t your Fran at all. 

The dinner was quite nice, which you didn't expect at all. Your mom pulled off the best lasagna in the whole world, Fezco tried his best to speak formally for that one evening and Cal was constantly asking him stupid questions. Only Fran was sitting quietly on the other side of the table, playing with her food with a fork, she wasn't speaking that much. That was bugging you off so much. 

Sometime after the dinner was over and your mom and dad were preparing the sweet dessert in the kitchen while they chattered loud about Fezco being an overall nice boy, you couldn't overhear his conversation with Fran. It was more a whisper shouting argument than a conversation. 

“And how da fuck was I supposed to know, Fran? Ya aren't a single shitty bit similar.” - Fezco answered something she said and you heard her sigh loudly before she thought of her answer.

“Ya could just ask me, fuck! Hey, isn't Y/N your sibling or somethin’? And yeah, man, we’re dating by the way. That would do the fuckin’ trick. ” - She answered. You listened to them with a serious, thoughtful face. 

“Fran, there isn't another Fezco in this fuckin’ town.” - He whisper-shouted back. - “I'm gonna tell you diz: I'm in love with that girl. She doesn't know shit. I'm trying to keep her away from dat shit. I swear to ya, I'm doin’ ma best.”

“What are you two doing?” - You interrupted them, taking Fezcos side without further thinking, his hand automatically gripping your side. - “Seems like you have a serious conversation. What's that about? You know each other?”

“Go on, Texas. Tell her right in front of me.” - Fran told him with a furious face. Fez looked down for a moment before he glanced on your scared face for a moment. 

“Just promise ya will not lose your shit, okay?” - He carefully put his palms on your shoulders. You glanced at Fran's angry face once again before diving into the gaze of his eyes. - “Ya promise?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise. Can you tell me what is going on?” - You took hold at one of his hands, gulping out loud. You were nervous as fuck at the exact moment.

“Okay, here goes nothin’. I deal. I deal every fuckin’ shit you can think of. I was the one who dealt the shit to Rue, I'm the one who is dealing weed to Fran. I have a lot of kiddos coming to me regularly, to be honest.” - He spoke quietly and softly, having tears in his baby blue eyes. You were fucking out of your mind at that moment, you were just too shocked to lose everything and snap.

Fezco was a fucking drug dealer. He was probably dealing at every party that you went to together. Just moments before kissing the shit out of you, he was selling drugs to somebody. 

But also knew that you need to remain as calm as possible. You were in your very own house, your parents were three rooms away, preparing something for a sweet tooth. So you just stood there with your mouth opened, staring Fezco down. 

“This isn't some fucking joke, is it?” - You spoke after a long minute. There was shit exploding inside you - Rue had OD herself. And now you knew who have done it to her. It was your very own fucking boyfriend, the one who was looking in the eyes at the very moment. Great. Just fucking great. - "Ok. We'll play like nothing's happening. We're in my parent's house, so we'll be acting like adults. But we'll have a loong discussion, you fucking bet." - You hissed to Fezco. You weren't using curse words so much, so he knew that he had fucked up, plus your hurt look? That was fucking something.

You did exactly what you intended to do. You and Fezco played the perfect couple for the rest of the night, smiling and laughing at what your parents said. But on the inside, you were ready to snap at any given chance. Fezco was a lucky guy - he found himself a girl which was reasonable and smart to say at least. And who was beautiful and nice as well.

He was on fire the whole night, his hand tensing on your thigh at a few moments. He was afraid that you'll leave him because of it.

Fezco was exactly who your parents always told you to avoid. The bad boy, someone who was nice on the outside, but rotten inside. But that wasn't true, you realized. Fezco, your Fezco, was a wonderful, gentle young man who would give anything up just to make you happy. You were torn inside - he was doing something illegal.

Even though your parents were telling you to cut those people off, you were madly in love with that boy. And he confessed to Fran that he's in love with you as well. You were very angry with him for not telling you. You were supposed to be a couple without those poisoning secrets and yet, he kept the biggest away from you.

The inside your head was almost unbearable. One voice was telling you to immediately break up with him because he was doing such bullshit. But the second voice was reasoning with you about his qualities. You needed to talk to him about his dirty business. You were strangely sure that he can explain himself.

It was bittersweet when he was leaving. He held you tight like it was the last time he was able to see you. That kiss didn't have his usual spark and taste and you looked... Surprised and let down. Your smile wasn't even that big when the door closed. But your mom wanted to chat with you so hard that Die Hard had nothing on her.

"That young man is so... Nice. Maybe a bit out of this world, but what do I know, right?" - She handed you a root beer and you glanced over Fran who stood in the doorframe with teary eyes.

As soon as he told you, she realized how shitty her move even was. Fran would swear that at that one moment she could feel every emotion you were feeling for that guy. That love was warm, fuzzy and raw like nothing she saw you feeling before. Until that moment, you shined with confidence and gentle manners for your man. But after the confrontation? You were different, distant and lost in your own thoughts.

She was glad that you finally knew everything about Fezco, but she wanted to take all of it back. She hurt you. And that was something bigger sisters aren't supposed to do. She was about to cry, so she went to her room so she could get all of it out.

"Do you like him?" - You asked your mom as you helped her with washing the dishes. She nudged your side playfully.

"It isn't what I and dad expected, not gonna lie, but I like the way he listens to you and how he feels you. Not only physically, but mentally. We had the feeling that he's answering directly on your thoughts at moments." - She sighed with a slight smile. - "You're in love with very, very much, am I right?"

You sighed as well. What should you tell her? Yes, you were, but to be honest, you were madder than in love at that moment. You needed to be alone for a few days. Maybe hang out with Jules and read some articles online with her, or watch animated movies and Love Island with Rue. No Fezco for at least a week. That should give him time to think it through as well.

"Yeah, I've fallen hard." - You said quietly, concentrating on the dishes in your hand.

"We've been like you and Fran, and how Cal will be, Y/N. I and dad. We were young when we have met and we did some good things... And some bad things, but we did them together. That love never left me. And you... You should let it blossom inside of you until you can. Harvest it, take care of that feeling, protect it. Maybe it won't work out... But what if it does? Huh? Until you're happy with that boy and until he isn't harming you or your life, we'll support you." - Your mom told seriously all of a sudden. You gave her a long look and you felt as your eyes watered. - "I'm sorry that he doesn't have parents. But when we get to know him better, he can be a part of our family. Now he's a stranger who is dating our baby girl. But we like that stranger. Alright?"

You just hugged her with your wet hands, crying at that moment. You were so grateful that the people who raised you were so wise, and that they loved you. No matter what life path you chose, they were by your side - supporting you when you did something you were happy about and nursing you when the sadness fell on your shoulder. 

That night, your window stayed shut as you layed down on your bed and watched the ceiling. Your door was locked and the only sound in the room was your breathing and quiet music coming out of your earbuds.  

Fly Me To the Moon. Your safe song. Your and Fran’s save song. The one who was always supposed to hold you up, on the top of the water surface. But at that moment, the song felt so heavy as your eyes cried by their own will. 

Memories were flashing in front of your eyes so fast you couldn’t even catch them properly to feel those little, magical moments. Your first ice-skating, when Fran held your waist and you both laughed. You were six. The first time when she tried to put make-up on your waist and then you stole mom’s high heels. You were eight at that point. The moment when she stole candy from the store because you wanted some and you were crying because mom refused to buy you some. You were five. 

The first time she stoned herselft and vomitted all over the terrace, back in Arizona. When she came home drunk and just came out to your parents, yelling it out loud to your father’s face. She yelled that she is a dike and he yelled at her to calm down, they had a huge argument that night. The first time you and dad went to pick up Fran to the police station because she had beaten down the boy who was bullying you at school. You just turned fifteen that day. The first day she got excluded out of college for the first time because she sometimes couldn't keep her shit together.

The bad things started to mix with the good ones - you and Fran singing Fly Me To The Moon when you were doing dishes, dancing. Next flash: Fran sobering in the bathroom before she fainted. Blood poisoning. She went to rehab for some time. Next memory: you playing Scrabble and she was cheating so much it made you laugh. Then a next one came - Fran, totally drunk out of her mind, begging you not being like her, crying like a little girl, phlegm dripping out of her nose, holding your arms and head and mumbling it over and over and over again. She told you that you have so much bigger potential she will ever have.

Fran had her bad, rotten side and moments. But sometimes it seemed like she is far over all of it. But then it usually came again - she drunk her ass down, she cheated on a test or... She was doing so much bullshit. But you loved her no matter what. 

And the same feeling you had for Fezco. Even he was flashing in front of your eyes - you and him dancing to some song in the shop while Rue laughed loudly, a kiss behind the ear when you were too occupied with watching the movie, those night in your bed when you just chatted about everything and nothing, making you giggle, feeling so happy. And then the freshest memory came up. Him being a fucking dealer. 

All the memories took a strange, bad turn at one moment and you just layed there while your phone buzzed every five minutes - either it was Fez trying to call you or text you, whether it was Rue who got to know what happened just minutes after Fezco left your home or Jules who was worried as hell. 

You didn’t feel like responding. You just wanted to be left alone while you cried and flown to the moon. 

#fezco euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco hbo #fezco imagine #fez euphoria #fezco #fez #euphoria series #fly me to the moon #remember kids #nobody’s a saint #and yet you love them #rue bennett #jules euphoria #jules vaughn #rue euphoria

[zen3to5]

J/H 6-02: Join Together

On we go with Zen 3 to 5+! Last time, we made a real storyline out of Kelso's giving up his feelings for Jackie, but she and Hyde have yet to speak this season. Time to fix that...

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT   The same night as the credits scene from 6-01. HYDE is passed out in his chair, with SCHATZI asleep in his arms. Smoke still lingers in the air.   The basement door opens. JACKIE enters.   JACKIE: Steven?   She shuts the door. Hyde jerks awake, which wakes up Schatzi.   HYDE: It’s oregano!   He shakes off the last of sleep, sees Jackie. They stare across the room at each other until Jackie crosses to the couch and sits at the end near Hyde’s chair.   JACKIE: Okay, Steven, I’m here to tell you, now that summer’s almost over, I’ve made my decision. I choose you.   She leans over the arm of the couch to kiss him. When she recovers, Hyde starts leaning in to follow, but stops himself, sits up straight, and sets Schatzi down on the coffee table.   HYDE: Good to know.   He stands and crosses to the deep freeze.   JACKIE: “Good to know?” That’s all you have to say?   HYDE: I’ll figure out the rest after I spend a summer at the pool.   He turns to smirk Jackie’s way; she pouts.   JACKIE: Ha, ha. You’ve made your point, Steven. Now you sit back down and french me.   HYDE: Jackie, when I said, “choose between me and Kelso,” I meant, “choose me, right then.” Making me sit around and wait it out is immature.   JACKIE: I want what I want when I want it! What is so immature about that?   HYDE: Jackie...   JACKIE: (stands) Don’t you “Jackie” me! Steven, do you remember why I needed time to think about this in the first place?   HYDE: Do you remember you made me compete with a two-timing moron who superglued his own head to his desk two days before graduation?   JACKIE: I still loved you!   HYDE: Then what was there to choose between?   JACKIE: Nothing, I just needed time to think!   HYDE: Why didn’t you tell me that?   JACKIE: Why didn’t you ask me that?   HYDE: Because you haven’t been by here all summer!   JACKIE: I was thinking!   HYDE: I was waiting!   As they stare each other down, Schatzi starts to whimper.   HYDE (cont’d): Great. And now, you’ve upset the dog.   Hyde scoops up Schatzi and retreats to his room. Jackie throws her hands up, “what just happened?”

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   The next morning. Hyde and ERIC sit at the kitchen table, eating cereal.   ERIC: So Jackie turns up, tells you, “I choose you,” and you... said “no.”   Hyde doesn’t answer, avoids looking at Eric.   ERIC (cont’d): Hyde, as someone with experience in holding out for the sake of pride, you really don’t want to wait until she runs away to California. Of course, this is Jackie, so she’d probably run away to, like, Dallas. And I can’t see you getting along well with the Texans when you go out to get her. There’d be a bar fight, you spend the night in jail, your cellmate’s a cowboy with a bad moustache and a “Remember the Alamo” belt buckle who makes you his wife... you know what, go ahead and hold out. That sounds fun.   RED and KITTY enter from the living room. Eric stands and moves to meet them by the stove.   ERIC (cont’d): Hey, Mom, Dad. I have something I want to tell you. I’ve decided not to move away.   RED: What?   ERIC: Yeah. I’m gonna stay and put off college for just for a little while. (to Red) Or, at least until you’re well enough to go back to work.   Kitty sweeps Eric into a huge hug. Hyde snickers from the table.   KITTY: My baby! My baby! My baby!   ERIC: Okay, okay, Mom, this is actually kind of embarrassing. You’re actually really hurting me, yeah.   She lets him go.   RED: (to Eric) You mean I’ve been waiting eighteen years for you to get your butt out of this house, and now you’re staying?   Ignoring that, Eric produces a check from his pocket and hands it to Kitty.   ERIC: Look, Mom, I signed over my paycheck to you. I, uh, I want you to go buy yourself something pretty. Or, I don’t know, electricity.   KITTY: Oh, honey, thank you.   She hugs him again, more gently this time.   KITTY (cont’d): Red, it wouldn’t kill you to thank him.   RED: It might. I just had a heart attack.   Kitty gives him a look, then takes a scrap of paper hidden under the coffee tin. She and Red cross to the table and sit.   KITTY: Speaking of which, I found this in the garbage last night. Why would you throw away the list of all the food the doctor said we couldn’t have in the house?   RED: Kitty, did you look at that list? If I had known what I was coming home to after my heart attack, I would’ve walked straight into that bright light and never looked back.   KITTY: Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. I’ll do it with you. ‘Cause what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.   ERIC: Actually, Mom, Dad’s the gander. The male goose. So it would be “what’s good for the gander is good for the goose.”   He sits back down, takes the list.   ERIC (cont’d): So, let’s take a gander at what you’re giving up with the gander.   He chuckles, even as Red and Hyde roll their eyes.   ERIC (cont’d): That’s how you do that. Okay... (reading) “Potato chips, other salty snacks...”   KITTY: Good advice. The doctor obviously knows what he’s talking about.   ERIC: (reading) “Butter, heavy cream, cheese...”   KITTY: Gone. Makes a lot of sense.   ERIC: (reading) “Alcoholic beverages...”   KITTY: Okay, that doctor’s a quack.   Kitty snaps up the list and storms into the living room.   BUMPER   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - DAY   A short time later. Eric observes as DONNA packs the suitcase on her writing desk with clothes.   DONNA: God, it’s gonna be so hard going off to college without you. But we’ll see each other on the weekends, right?   ERIC: Well, you say that now, but then there’s that weekend when you call home and say you have to “study” but I hear Moose the placekicker in the background asking if you want another shot of tequila, so...   DONNA: Eric, that would never happen. I would never date a placekicker. It’s quarterback or nothing for me.   ERIC: Ah!   They laugh and embrace.   DONNA: The more I think about leaving you, the sadder I get. And the sadder I get, the more I wanna be with you. Right now.   ERIC: (beat) Now? Well, yeah, I mean, I guess –   Donna shoves him down onto the bed, jumps him, and begins unbuttoning his shirt.   ERIC (cont’d): whoa! All right, this is great! It’ll be, like, completely spontaneous! Like, I just -   DONNA: Why are you talking?   ERIC: I’m sorry, I just –   She cuts him off with a deep kiss. He gives into it and pulls her further down onto him, and we cut to:   BUMPER   INT. HUB – DAY   A very slow afternoon; the place is nearly empty. Among the few customers are Jackie, KELSO, and FEZ at the wall table, Jackie in a chair and the boys in the booth seat.   JACKIE: Do you two think I’m immature?   KELSO: No, you’re almost fully grown.   They both give her a look-over, which she chooses to ignore.   JACKIE: Well, Steven thinks so. Apparently, I’m immature. Well, he wants “mature?” He thinks that’s cool? I can be cool. People can change. Olivia Newton-John did it for John Travolta, and that movie was incredibly realistic.   She looks up in thought. A slow zoom in as we cut to:   INT. HUB – DAY   FANTASY SEQUENCE. The Hub, with all the tables conveniently cleared for any impending choreography. Hyde, Eric, Kelso, and Fez are gathered around the Space Invaders game.   Jackie and Donna enter, Jackie in Sandy’s greaser chick outfit from GREASE. They strut across the room until they stand across from the boys. Eric, Kelso, and Fez all whip around to look at them.   ERIC: WOW!   KELSO: Yowza.   FEZ: Yummy.   Hyde looks up last. When he sees Jackie, he rips the sunglasses off his head.   HYDE: Jackie?   JACKIE: Tell me about it, Steve.   The girls move onto their marks, as do the boys. “You’re The One That I Want” from GREASE begins to play as a full-on song and dance number begins.   HYDE (lip-sync): I got chills! They’re multiplying And I’m losing control ‘Cause the power you’re supplying It’s electrifying!   JACKIE (lip-sync): You better shape up ‘cause I need a man And my heart is set on you You better shape up You better understand To my heart I must be true...   HYDE (lip-sync): Nothing left Nothing left for me to do...   JACKIE & HYDE (lip-sync): You’re the one that I want (You are the one I want) Ooh, hoo, hoo, honey! The one that I want (You are the one I want) Ooh, hoo, hoo, honey! The one that I want (You are the one I want) Ooh, hoo, hoo! The one I need Oh, yes indeed...   By the end of the number, Jackie is wrapped around Hyde with arms and legs as he gazes into her eyes.   HYDE: Oh, Jackie, you’re so cool and mature. Please take me back. ‘Cause we belong together like bob-bobba-loo-ba, shawalla shebang-shebang.   In reply, she pulls him into a long, passionate kiss. The others all group together, offering (ad-libbed) congratulations and celebrations. A heart flanked by two unicorns serves as an iris closing on the scene, and we fade back into reality...   INT. HUB – DAY   Jackie sways gently in her seat to the music in her head. Kelso and Fez share a look.   KELSO:  (to Jackie) Are you gonna sing? ‘Cause we’ve heard you sing, and... you’re not gonna sing, are you?   Fez shakes his head, pleading.   JACKIE: No, but I’m gonna get Steven back, whatever it takes. And I’m gonna get me a pair of those black satin pants, ‘cause I look good in those.   And thus, she turns back to daydreaming.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   A short time later. Hyde snacks at the counter as Red slowly, reluctantly drops an assortment of junk food piled on the stovetop into the trash can.   Eric and Kitty enter, each carrying a cart loaded with liquor bottles.   KITTY: Okay, the doctor wins. Eric and I boxed up all the liquor.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Man, look at all this. It’s like Dean Martin exploded. There were bottles in the liquor cabinet, the dining room hutch, my mom’s nightstand...   He picks up the offending bottle.   KITTY: Oh, no, no. That’s for polishing furniture.   ERIC: Mom, there’s lipstick on it.   HYDE: It’s just your luck, Forman. You’re about to turn eighteen and there’s gonna be no hooch left in the house to steal.   Red and Kitty’s eyes snap to him.   HYDE (cont’d): I mean, avoid. (They stare) Do homework next to. Pray near. (They stare) Come on!   RED: Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty boring around here. (to Eric) You know what you should do? Go to college.   He exits to the basement.   ERIC: Mom, would it be too much to ask for Dad to be grateful that I’m staying?   KITTY: Honey, we’re all going through hard times. You’re giving up your future. I’m giving up my Schnapps. Let’s not compare our pain.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   THE CIRCLE. Open on Eric’s empty seat, which he hurries into.   ERIC: Hey, sorry I’m late. Donna was really upset about leaving, so I had to comfort her in a bedular way. It turns out, if I get her sad, she gives it away like goldfish at a freakin’ carnival.   Pan to Fez.   FEZ: Eric, I think you may have found a secret “open sesame” to sex. Make the lady cry. Perhaps I should try that with my wife. “Laurie, here’s a dead cat. Now, do me.”   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE:  A little history, Fez – I think Laurie has a lot of “open sesames.” Like “hi, Laurie.” That usually does it.   Pan to Kelso.   KELSO: Actually, I only ever got as far as “hi.” Fez, I did it with your wife!   Pan to Eric.   ERIC: God, I have so much power over Donna now. It’s like I know how Obi-Wan Kenobi feels. (doing Obi-Wan) “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” (normal voice) Man, I wish I could do it with Donna in a land speeder on Tatooine. That would be so awesome.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Hot Child in the City” by Nick Glider.   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Moments later. Jackie, in a tiny bikini and sunglasses, is sprawled out on a lawn chair set up in the driveway. She turns and smiles as the four boys file out from the kitchen. They’re all still coming down from the Circle, but that doesn’t stop them from checking Jackie out – Hyde especially.   JACKIE: Hello, boys.   FEZ: And hello, sun goddess.   If looks could kill, Hyde would’ve just murdered Fez. He looks away from Jackie and inches away from Hyde.   Jackie flips her sunglasses up and stands.   JACKIE: (to Hyde) You know, Steven, a tan’s not the only thing I have now that I didn’t have when we were going out.   She lifts up her right foot, drawing attention to:   FEZ: (gasp) Toe ring.   Hyde, sucking in deep breaths, tries his best not to look. His best isn’t very good.   JACKIE: (to Hyde) Yep. Tan, toe ring – a tattoo.   HYDE: (scoffs) You don’t have a tattoo. You’re bluffing. (beat) You have a tattoo?   He looks her over, tries to see her back.   JACKIE: Well, we’re not going out, so I guess you’ll never know.   She walks past him, brushing him with her shoulder as she does, and heads back into the house. The guys all follow her with their eyes.   Hyde takes a few steps after her before catching himself. Eric, Kelso, and Fez all grin.   KELSO: Look at you watching her. You love her, man. (doing Hyde) “Oh, baby, I love you so much.”   He starts making kissy faces. Fez does the same, and they lean into each other for a bit, just missing the other’s lips.   KELSO: (laughing) Were you doing Jackie?   FEZ: (beat) Yes, yes.   HYDE: Why am I even thinking about her? Man, she’s like Tahiti. It’s warm and it’s beautiful and you wanna go there, but when you do, you get bit by a mosquito and you get malaria and you’re sick for the rest of your life.   KELSO: You know, when me and Jackie were going out, this’d be right around the time that you got us back together after a break-up. It’s too bad you don’t have your own you around.   ERIC: Kelso, would you really want two Hydes around? You’d be getting frogged from the right and the left 24 hours a day.   Unconsciously, Kelso wraps his arms around himself, covering his biceps.   HYDE: (to Kelso) I wasn’t trying to get you back together. I was trying to get her to stop crying.   Each of the boys reacts – Eric amused, Kelso guilty, Fez ready to cry. Hyde stirs uncomfortably under their eyes.   HYDE (cont’d): She was ruining all my shirts.   They keep staring.   HYDE (cont’d): Shut up!   When they keep staring, Hyde delivers an open-palm smack to Fez’s forehead. He falls back against Eric, who falls back against Kelso, and all three of them collapse to the ground. Hyde marches off down the drive.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   Another day. “Baby Come Back” by Player is on the radio. Eric and Donna read a magazine together on the couch, Jackie sits in the lawn chair, and Kelso paces up and down.   KELSO: Jackie, I’ve noticed you and Hyde are still broken up. As the man who used to pleasure you endlessly, I think it’s only fitting that I take over Hyde’s old job of getting you back together with your fella, ‘cause when I’m a cop, I’m gonna have to deal with domestic cases like this all the time.   DONNA: And the good news is, he’ll have guns.   KELSO: Yeah, this is gonna be a piece of cake. Y’know, they should’ve put me in charge of Vietnam. I would’ve had those people making out in a week.   He exits out the basement door.   ERIC: Wow. Donna, that might be the last time you’ll ever get to see Kelso make an even bigger mess of a problem.   DONNA: Yeah, I’m gonna miss that. And I’m gonna miss you.   She sets the magazine down and leans into Eric.   JACKIE: Well, I’m not gonna miss you two slobbering all over each other like fat girls in a house with free meat.   She stands and exits out the basement door.   ERIC: And that might be the last time that Jackie ever makes fun of us, fat girls, and meat.   DONNA: Yeah...   She throws herself at Eric, and they begin violently making out. Thus begins:   MONTAGE.   A) FORMAN DRIVEWAY. Eric and Donna lean against the Vista Cruiser. Eric heaves a long sigh.   DONNA: What?   ERIC: Nothing. It’s just... this could be the last time that you and I stand by the Vista Cruiser. I just waxed her – she’s all slippy slidy.   Donna whirls around to kiss Eric. The two of them make out, sliding up and down the Vista Cruiser.   B) DONNA’S BEDROOM. Donna sits at her writing desk. Eric stands over her, toothbrush in hand.   ERIC: Donna, this might be the last time I bring you your toothbrush.   DONNA: That’s not my toothbrush.   ERIC: (beat) Might be the last time I bring you the wrong toothbrush.   Donna shoves everything off her desk. Eric lies down across it, she jumps on top of him, and they go at it.   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY   Later that afternoon. Hyde and Kelso sit in the chairs on the back porch.   KELSO: Okay, Hyde. If I’m gonna get you and Jackie back together, I’m gonna start by doing what you always did for me, which was point out all the stuff I was doing wrong. So let’s start with the fact that you have curly hair.   Hyde gives Kelso a dirty look. It goes right over Kelso’s head.   KELSO (cont’d): That’s cute on girls and little kids, but on a man, that’s just dirty. Plus you don’t wash it and you’ve got those sideburns, so that’s a double ugh. (afterthought) Oh, and you slept with that nurse.   HYDE: That only happened because you hit on Jackie for that whole year, and it led to a misunderstanding. And I owned up to what I did. If Jackie was gonna take me back anyway, she shouldn’t have made me spend all summer waiting on her.   KELSO: Yeah, but Hyde, you should’ve known she wouldn’t just get over that. You never pushed her to just get over it when I slept with Laurie, or made out with Pam Macy, or stole 50 bucks from her, or that mess Fez and I left in her dad’s Lincoln after that night of cow-tipping went wrong.   HYDE: (sighs) Fine. Maybe I was sort of impetuous and maybe a little rash.   KELSO: Now, see, that’s something that Jackie oughta know.   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - DAY   Minutes later. Jackie and Kelso stand in the bedroom, talking.   KELSO: Hyde says that he was sort of infectious and he has a rash.   JACKIE: What?   KELSO: I’m just telling you what he said.   JACKIE: All right, look, Michael, Steven’s the one who messed up the relationship. He thought you and I were together, but he was just wrong. He fabricated the whole mess.   KELSO: Well, somebody ought to make that clear.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Minutes later. Kelso and Hyde, basketball under his arm, stand in the driveway, talking.   KELSO: Jackie wants you to know that there was a mess ‘cause she was wearing the wrong fabric.   HYDE: That can’t be what she said.   KELSO: It’s word for word, man.   HYDE: Kelso, would you get out of here?   KELSO: What? I’m helping.   HYDE: You’re making me wanna kick your ass!   KELSO: That better be the rash talking.   Kelso walks off through the garage. Hyde nails him in the back with the basketball before heading into the house.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Kitty looks over items on the shelf near the patio door. Red enters from the living room, paper bag in hand. He takes a careful look around the kitchen, but misses Kitty. She watches as he draws a can of beer from the bag and pops it open. He lifts it to his lips to drink...   KITTY: Busted, mister.   Red slams the can down on the stovetop.   RED: You’re like a damn cat. I’m gonna make you wear a bell.   Kitty crosses to him, points at the can.   KITTY: Bad health in a can, that’s what that is. The doctor said he wants nothing like that around here, and I agree. All it takes is a little willpower, Red.   Kitty opens the flour tin and pulls out a bottle of wine. She pours a healthy amount into her water glass.   KITTY (cont’d): Even though you used to do something without thinking, you just – you have to grab a hold of those thoughts.   She downs the wine.   RED: Can I get you a refill there?   Kitty looks from him, to her glass, to her bottle.   KITTY: Well, there’s a lesson for you. You’re welcome.   She exits to the living room, taking bottle and glass with her.   As she leaves, Eric enters.   ERIC: (to Red) Hey.   RED: Oh, hey – listen, son. You know, uh... it means a lot to your mother, you staying here and helping out the family. And as for me, I... well, uh...   He takes a scrap of paper from his pocket and hands it to Eric.   RED (cont’d): There. The doctor said I should write down my feelings.   ERIC: Are you actually thanking me?   He reads the note.   ERIC (cont’d): This is a list of yard work.   RED: Yeah, the lawn thanks you for all that mowing you’re gonna do.   ERIC: You’re welcome, Dad.   RED: Yeah. Well...   Eric steps in for a hug, but Red holds his hand up.   RED (cont’d): All right, we’re both men here.   Eric nods, heads out to the drive.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   Eric and Donna sit on the couch, watching GILLIGAN’S ISLAND.   ERIC: Oh, God.   DONNA: What’s wrong?   ERIC: Nothing. It’s just... this could be the last time that you and I watch Gilligan get hit on the head by the Skipper.   DONNA: Eric, the more we talk about me going away, the sadder you get. And being with you so much lately has been great, but afterwards... well, you always used to look a little bit ashamed, and... I mean, now you just seem depressed.   ERIC: Oh, no, no. I’m not depressed, Donna. You are depressed.   He stands, shoves everything off the coffee table.   ERIC (cont’d): Okay, let’s do this.   DONNA: (stands) Okay, hold on. All this “last time” stuff – have you been saying that just for sex?   ERIC: What? Have I... what? (doing Obi-Wan) “This is not the one you’re angry with.”   He waves his hand in front of her eyes.   DONNA: You’re disgusting.   She storms out the door. Eric sits down. Donna re-enters immediately, and Eric stands back up right away.   DONNA (cont’d): That might be the last time we fight over you trying to get me to have sex with you!   ERIC: I know!   Donna hurries over to him, takes him in an embrace, and they fall back down onto the couch as they kiss.   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN FRONT PORCH – DAY   Closer to evening than afternoon. Fez and Kelso sit together on the front porch. Kelso has a hand on his temple.   KELSO: This “getting people back together” business is hard. I don’t remember ever throwing a basketball at Hyde’s back when he was doing this, and I don’t think Jackie ever threw an empty hairspray can at his head. (to Fez) Your wife did that to me once.   FEZ: I get it. You had sex with my wife. Stop rubbing it in.   KELSO: Wow. I wasn’t even trying to burn you with that one. It’s just too easy. Just like your wife.   Fez turns away, pouting, while Kelso chuckles.   KELSO: Man, it’s obvious that Hyde and Jackie both wanna be together, and they would be in a second if they just thought that the other one had said “I’m sorry.”   He considers that for a second, then leaps to his feet, Fez following.   KELSO: Eureka, Fez! Eureka!   FEZ: I’m one step ahead of you, my friend!   KELSO: Yeah, I’ll just lie to both of them and tell them the other one said “I’m sorry!”   FEZ: Oh. I thought we were going to try and get my wife to do me.   KELSO: (beat) Good luck with that.   He claps Fez on the shoulder and runs off.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY   Minutes later. Kelso has gathered Jackie and Hyde in front of the Vista Cruiser. He takes them each by the shoulder and pulls them in closer.   KELSO: Okay, here we go. Let’s make up.   JACKIE: All right. Look, Steven, I heard what you said.   HYDE: Yeah, I heard what... wait a minute, you heard what I said?   JACKIE: Yeah, Michael told me. And, just so you know – I’m sorry too.   HYDE: Too? No, you’re not sorry too. You’re sorry one, I’m sorry two.   JACKIE: (beat) Wait, what? No, Michael said -   HYDE: Yeah, he said that...   They both turn to glare at Kelso.   KELSO: Whoa! I did my work. You two gotta clean this mess up yourselves.   HYDE: (to Jackie) So nothing’s changed then?   JACKIE: (shrugs) Guess not.   HYDE: (scoffs) Forget this.   Jackie turns to head down the drive, Hyde turns to go back into the house. Kelso pulls them both back and turns them toward each other.   KELSO: Okay, enough. Look, you guys, who cares who apologized first? (to Hyde) Jackie obviously wants to be with you, and you’re here, which means that you wanna be with her, and I don’t blame you, ‘cause with that rash, you ain’t got a whole lot of choices.   JACKIE: All right, look, Steven, do you wanna be with me?   Hyde gives a very small shrug.   JACKIE (cont’d): No, no, a shrug’s not gonna cut it. Steven, I need you to say something. All right, look – I’ll even go first. Steven, I wanna be with you. And you?   HYDE: I... can you hang on a second?   He turns to Kelso and frogs him in the arm.   HYDE (cont’d): Would you get out of here?   KELSO: If you want me to leave, all you have to do is say “please.”   HYDE: Fine, please!   He frogs Kelso again.   KELSO: That’s better.   He retreats into the house.   HYDE: Jackie, I do wanna be with you.   Coy, Jackie takes a step in.   JACKIE: Because...   She traces a heart in the air with her fingers.   HYDE: (beat) Will you take a shrug for that?   JACKIE: (smiles, shrugs) Eh.   She throws her arms around his neck. His arms wrap around her waist, and they kiss.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   LAURIE is at the island with a laundry basket. She sorts through her things as Fez comes up from the basement and moves behind her.   FEZ: Hello, darling. I see you are washing your unmentionables.   LAURIE: Yeah. Do you know what gets out grass stains and Kailua?   FEZ: Anyways, I was thinking how sad you must be considering the mess you made of your life. With all that sadness, do you also not get needy?   LAURIE: Y’know, I sort of do.   FEZ: Ali Baba, the treasure is mine!   LAURIE: I’m gonna go see if Carlos is home.   She struts out the door. Fez sighs, smiles, and leans on the laundry basket.   FEZ: That Carlos is one lucky S.O.B. to have a wife like mine.   END.

***

I hope no one's disappointed by how comparatively unaltered this one is to 6-01! If I'm being honest, I don't find the idea that Hyde would be too proud and stubborn to get back together with Jackie right away after making him wait on an answer to be out-of-character; I just don't like the sloppy and cavalier way the show presented that idea, or the lack of a peek behind the curtain as to how he really feels. With these rewrites of 6-01 and 6-02 together, I've tried to do that.

In any event, now that Jackie and Hyde are back together, it's on to the middle of Season 6...

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5+ #fan fiction #fan script

[crxpeek]

Hi cool I transcribed that Q104.3 Interview with Nick & Darian earlier. 

If you wanna check out the original you can watch/listen to that here

But if not, there’s a transcription right here under the cut. 

Transcriber’s note here: It’s pretty long and it took me three hours to do and there’s quite a few good quotes here, so yeah, enjoy. 

Jonathan Clarke: Welcome back, Jonathan Clarke, we’re in the studio with Nick Valensi & Darian Zanedi? Did I say that right Darian?

Darian: Zahedi.

Jonathan Clarke: Zahedi. Oh, that’s an H not an N, my bad. Of course, the band is CRX.  The new album is Peek. They are playing the Mercury Lounge right here in New York City tonight. And of course, Nick’s other band The Strokes playing New Year’s Eve Barclay’s Center. Is that correct?

Nick: That’s right.

Jonathan Clarke: Fantastic. All the tour dates for CRX crxmusic.com Guys, or, I’ll ask you first Nick, how many times have you played the Mercury Lounge? Because I know you had a residency there at one point with The Strokes.

Nick: Oh man… many moons ago. The Strokes did… I think it was like… every Friday night or every Thursday night for a month. We did that a couple of times, so I’ve played there a dozen times.

Jonathan Clarke: A residency.

Nick: Yeah. It’s cool to do to that.

Jonathan Clarke: Right?

Nick: It’s nice so your fans kinda know where you’ll be every week, it’s like a TV show or something.

Jonathan Clarke: Right exactly it’s appointment viewing.

Nick: Yeah and we’re not doing that this time around, cause I moved to LA a while ago.

Jonathan Clarke: Yes, where Darian’s from.

Nick: Yep.

Jonathan Clarke: But you were born right here in New York City.

Nick: That’s right.

Jonathan Clarke: That’s right.

Nick: That’s right. I grew up listening to Q104.3. To be perfectly honest with you, it was the classic rock station when I was growing up and it still is, although now it’s more of a mixed bag.

Jonathan Clarke: I will ask you guys both the same question, what was the first song you learned on guitar?

Nick: I mean I know-

Jonathan Clarke: Smoke on the Water?

Darian: No.

Nick: The first thing… My very first guitar lesson I remember it very clearly. I wanted to learn uh. Well the guy asked me “What do you like? What kind of music do you like?” I said, “I love Guns ‘N Roses” and he said, “Do you know the song Sweet Child O’ Mine?” I said “Of course,” and he was like “I can teach you this intro.”

Jonathan Clarke: The riff.

Nick: and that’s the first thing that I kinda went through, was this intro to Sweet Child O’ Mine.

Jonathan Clarke: Not actually an easy sort of-

Nick: No, it seems like a sophisticated place to start. But that’s where he started me.

Jonathan Clarke: Darian?

Darian: Man.. going back many many years but it might have been Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Jonathan Clarke: Okay.

Darian: But I remember the first song I wanted to learn was uh Brown Sugar.

Jonathan Clarke: Oh Yeah.

Darian: And the guitar teacher… I had just learned to play like open cords on the guitar, and he was like “You don’t wanna learn that one right now it’s too...” And I was like, “No I wanna learn I really wanna learn how to do it.”

Nick: But it’s in a different tuning that song.

Darian: Well it’s also like bar chords. And he’s like it’s these things called barre chords. And I was like then show me barre chords. And then I, you know, I was like, I’m gonna figure this out. So, I just spent days, you know, making my fingers bleed til I could play barre chords. And then he taught me Brown Sugar. And it was like-

Jonathan Clarke: Now did you do the Keith Richards thing of taking off the Low E string?

Darian: No.

Jonathan Clarke: And then on the Open G?

Darian: I did the Open G tuning, but I didn’t take off the string, I wasn’t, when I was 10 years old, I wasn’t that… you know…

Jonathan Clarke: It’s funny with that particular tuning, which, legend has it, Ry Cooder, taught him that tuning.

Darian: Yeah. He taught him how to play slide too, I think.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah yeah, and once you learn that, you know how to mess around on the barre chords with that tuning, you can play like 5 Stones hits like right away.

Darian: And you can be high as Keith Richards and still do it.

Jonathan Clarke: Absolutely. We’re in the studio with Nick & Darian from CRX, the new album is Peek. The first album came out in 2016, New Skin. That was pretty much you doing most of the writing, Nick, on that one.

Nick: Yeah, the first album was an experiment for me to start something outside of The Strokes. And I didn’t really know what it was gonna be at the onset. And um, while I was making it, I put together a band of friends to take on tour. And umm, over the course of touring that first album for quite some time. We spent many hours in a van together and listened to a lot music together.

Jonathan Clarke: Like the old days.

Nick: Yeah. And um, just spent a lot of time really talking about music. And um, over the course of that tour we kind of… it was like a kinda… pre-production creative time for starting to collaboratively write this second album together.

Jonathan Clarke: I did plays Ways to Fake It a lot on this show. I love that song.

Nick: Oh, thanks Jonathan.

Jonathan Clarke: So good.

Nick: Thank you so much man, you know, thanks for you continued support man.

Jonathan Clarke: We go back as we mentioned, Modern Age.

Nick: You reminded me you’re the first DJ to play The Modern Age EP, before that first Strokes album. You were playing The Strokes demos on the air.

Jonathan Clarke: Yes yes. And it came in… the CD came in… resembled… You guys may have been the first to like do the retro thing with the CD where it looks like a 45 but it’s actually a regular CD.

Nick: Yeah, I came out of the womb retro.

Jonathan Clarke: Ah yes, nice. That of course was Modern Age. The song I’ve been playing is Falling, and also Get Close. Really good songs. I noticed you guys really do have your own sound, but you are unafraid to proudly show your influences on this current new album. So, talk about there. Cause there’s a lot of things that I hear but I wanna hear what you sort of hear with these new songs.

Darian: Well uh... Yeah there was… you know we…  when we were like he’s saying we were on tour we were listening to a lot of music and we started talking about if we were gonna make a second record what would we want it to sound like and what we were vibing on at the time. And it was a lot of David Bowie circa Scary Monster, Iggy Pop circa The Idiot, Talking Heads circa Remain in Light and umm.

Jonathan Clarke: Cars?

Darian: Cars I think is just part of our blood.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah yeah.

Darian: Cars & Tom Petty, you know, with the songwriting and the vibes. So I think that kinda comes through a little more subconsciously.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah.

Darian: The other stuff we wanted to sort of, you know, we gave ourself those parameters, to keep things consistent. You know what I mean? And then I think our sort of individual taste and stuff that’s sort of inherent kinda also shines through.

Jonathan Clarke: Isn’t Elliot Easton like the most underrated guitar player?

Darian: So underrated.

Jonathan Clarke: I mean his rifts are like so perfect.

Darian: I think we’re both very influenced by him. I used to have this VHS of The Cars live at Musikladen, 1979, and I would rewind it and rewind it and rewind it and learn his guitar solos from watching it until the tape and the VCR both like fell apart.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah, I love that.

Nick: You know he’s got the most memorable, melodic, short succinct guitar solos that you can sing along to. That other people, like the guy from Tom Petty’s band.

Jonathan Clarke: Mike Campbell.

Nick: Yeah, Mike Campbell was like that too. Just short and sweet, you make a really good melodic statement, and then just get out.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah, it’s almost like their solo is like 8 bars and then it’s like back to the bridge or the chorus or whatever it is. It’s almost Beatle-esque in that sense. Like it’s kinda the George Harrison solos are, you know, famously very short and tight and melodic.

Nick: And you can sing along to them most importantly.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah.

Nick: That’s what I look for in an instrumental section to a song. Whether it’s a guitar solo, or a synth solo, or just a little interlude.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah.

Nick: I like melody.

Jonathan Clarke: You’ve made a couple video for this new album. For Get Close… now did you, did you set out wanting to make a vampire movie video in New Orleans.

Nick: Well…

Darian: It’s a funny story…

Jonathan Clarke: Tell it!

Nick: Uh…

Darian: We so we… we went out to this, this is a long story I’ll make it quick. We went out to eat at this place called Cole’s in downtown Los Angeles. Which is like an old school LA restaurant. And we went to talk to videos with this video director and we were sort of riffing on ideas. But basically, what happened was that, I ate a lot of spicy mustard and pickles and I couldn’t sleep that night. And I was like lying in bed with acid reflux. And I just envisioned this entire video with a female vampire femme fatale who goes around killing guys and I just sorta saw the whole thing in my head.

Jonathan Clarke: Now did you have Lemmy from Motörhead in your mind as well sitting at bar or no?

Darian: Well no. What happened was I wrote the treatment and I sent it to Kansas Bowling who directed our videos because she’s super into like horror B-movies from like the 60s and 70s, and it’s like she’ll be perfect to make this. She took it New Orleans, she found the cast. And you know we added our friend Christina Masterson, who is the main vampire, we sent her down there with her and just let her sorta do her thing. And she found the guy, she found the bartender, who was a horror movie actress in the 70s… 80s..

Nick: Uh yeah Loretta something…

Darian: Geretta Geretta? Dreada Dreada?

(Transcriber’s note, Geretta Geretta is the actress)

Nick: Yeah yeah.

Darian: And she’s like a master, Kansas, at finding cool people and outfits and locations. We just let her sorta run wild with it.

Nick: She shoots everything on film, on an old camera from the 70s, that she takes on the plane, that’s like her carryon, on the plane, is this big huge heavy film camera from the 70s. And she’s made our videos on that camera.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah cause it has that quality, I wouldn’t say it’s grainy necessary, but it has that sort of…

Nick: It’s film.

Jonathan Clarke: It’s film yeah yeah. Also, animals in your videos, there are kittens and a goat.

Nick: Yeah.

Jonathan Clarke: I believe.

Darian: Pomeranian.

Jonathan Clarke: A cute little Pomeranian, very nice.

Nick: We’re animal lovers.

Darian: Yeah yeah.

Nick: And so is Kansas the director.

Darian: Story about that goat or lamb or whatever it was.  I think it was a goat. She actually rescued that from a slaughter house.

Jonathan Clarke: Aww.

Darian: She went and bought it from the slaughter house, from them, for like $100 or whatever, took part of the video budget. And then after the video, she gave it to this place that like takes in sheltered animals and puts them to pasture and…

Jonathan Clarke: We love that.

Darian: So, she basically rescued this goat from a slaughter house.

Nick: Yay!

Jonathan Clarke: And the goat is now a star.

Darian: The goat is now a star, and its alive, and its happy.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah. Nick, I have to ask you, when you first started in The Strokes, life on the road I think was a little different than it is now. You have a family. Do you bring them on the road with you for Strokes show or CRX shows?

Nick: Sometimes.

Jonathan Clarke: When it’s convenient?

Nick: Yeah when it’s convenient. And you know, for one off things sometimes. I mean life is different in that I have a family. But life is so different now from when I started on tour with The Strokes because the internet barely existed when The Strokes first… you know what I mean? In the late 90s, early 00s, I didn’t have a cell phone, you know we didn’t have a lot of the ways to stay in touch now.

Jonathan Clarke: Right.

Nick: I can be on a tour bus somewhere and just facetime my wife and my kids. Back when I… I started touring when I was 17, 18 years old so it was stops at payphones.

Jonathan Clarke: Right.

Nick: Which seems crazy now, that that was even a thing.

Jonathan Clarke: And some payphones actually still work.

Nick: You find them sometimes, they’re more and more rare.

Jonathan Clarke: I have heard that the new Strokes album is finished, and that you are mixing now. Is that correct?

Nick: Wow you heard that?

Jonathan Clarke: I heard that.

Nick: Who told you that?

Jonathan Clarke: Fairly reliable source.

Nick: Um… Well it must be true then.

Jonathan Clarke: Aha. Okay so you can’t give us any more info on when and if or?

Nick: When, I don’t know. If… is… I would say is a strong likelihood.

Jonathan Clarke: Yes. So, I’m in my gym the other day you know just doing my stretching and things like that. And then ‘Last Nite’ comes on the system of, you know, the gym. And I’m thinking “Wow, okay” so I don’t think this would have happened necessarily 18 years ago. But now I’m hearing it on the system of the gym playing. And I’m wondering when you go grocery shopping or you’re in your car or you’re some place, and you hear one of your songs, and I’ll ask this to both of you. Is it just like no big deal now or does you mind take you back to in the studio? Like kinda what goes through your mind when you hear your songs in places or on the radio?

Nick: First thought is “Am I getting paid for this?”

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah.

Nick: Sorry that was a joke.

Jonathan Clarke: That’s okay.

Darian: This is a safe place.

Nick: Sometimes I hear songs like you said, in the supermarket or in a store, and I think it’s The Strokes, and it’s not.

Jonathan Clarke: Oh yeah.

Nick: And then I think, am I getting paid for this?

Jonathan Clarke: And yourself? What do you think?

Darian: It’s weird. My experience with The Strokes personally is these guys were my friends in 1999, 2000. So, I was hearing these songs at Luna Lounge when it was still on Ludlow St. and places like that. So, I have like, a different relationship with it than I think most people. Where it’s strange, but it’s also… I don’t know.

Nick: So, the backstory here is that the way I know Darian is, he went to a year of college with Albert Hammond Jr., the other guitar player in The Strokes. So they were... They became fast friends cause they were in a music class… music class together?

Darian: Beethoven.

Jonathan Clarke: Wow so you can actually read music?

Darian: Oh, we both failed that class.

Jonathan Clarke: That’s very rock and roll Darian.

Nick: As Albert and I were… you know as The Strokes were kinda coming together… and like he said doing small gigs downtown you know to maybe a couple dozen people, if that, they were in school together, and we were just all part of a circle of friends. And so, we’ve known each other for a long time.

Jonathan Clarke: Well what about when you hear a CRX song on the radio? That’s gotta be a thrill, right?

Nick: That is actually kind of cool.

Darian: That is very exciting.

Jonathan Clarke: Yeah.

Nick: It is cool.

Darian: Especially cause we do, I do think about when we were in the studio how we created this how, how this part came about and how you know it’s like…

Jonathan Clarke: So, you flashback? Flashback to the studio and the creation?

Darian:  Yeah totally. And you think like... you realize when you hear a song, well most people hear a song, they don’t’ think about what went into it. They’re just experiencing it. Music you experience it and it gives you emotions and it becomes your personally thing. You know what I mean? It doesn’t matter what it meant to me, that’s not what’s important. What matters is what it meant to you. But then as the person who created it, yeah you think about like… it’s like making sausage. All the weird stuff that went into it, and the emotions, and the time, and the changes, and the whatever, the little arguments, and this and that. Just to make this thing that you ended up proud of and happy with. And that hopefully means something to someone else.

Jonathan Clarke: It is Nick Valensi & Darian Zahedi. The band is CRX. The new album is Peek. They’re playing the Mercury Lounge here in New York City tonight. All the tour dates crxmusic.com. I was not at Lollapalooza this year, but everyone said you guys, it’s one of the best shows they ever saw the strokes play.

Nick: Oh great!

Jonathan Clarke: How did it feel on stage? Was it… Did it feel that way to you as well?

Nick: It felt great. It was a great show. I actually stayed for some of the weekend. And you were asking me before if my family comes on tour with me ever, and that was one show where my daughter, my 12 and half year-old daughter in particular wanted to go to Lollapalooza and had a whole itinerary of bands that she wanted to see.

Jonathan Clarke: What band did she want to see?

Nick: Well there were several. Among them were, this guy, Conan Gray and Tame Impala. Tame Impala was a highlight for me too. The whole family can enjoy Tame Impala.

Jonathan Clarke: Yes.

Nick: And they were really actually fantastic.

Jonathan Clarke: I saw them once at radio city, they were so good, fantastic. Do you still have the Gibson ES 335 that Albert gave ya?

Nick: Yes. Although it’s not a Gibson 335, it’s… it’s kinda…

Jonathan Clarke: Epiphone?

Nick: It’s an Epiphone. Yeah. It’s kind of a copy of a Gibson 335, kind of, it’s an Epiphone Rivera.

Jonathan Clarke: Ah very nice.

Nick: He gave me to me long ago. I remember when we were first starting The Strokes and I just had the crappiest guitar that wouldn’t stay in tune, and the strings were like an inch away from the fretboard.

Jonathan Clarke: Oh no that sounds painful.

Nick: Yeah, I couldn’t, you know, I just did my best with this thing. And Albert one day came home from this used guitar shop with two guitars, a white Fender Strat and this orange Epiphone hollow body thing. And he was like “You can play one and I can play one!” and I was like “Wow that’s amazing! I wanna play the Strat!” and he was like “No the Srat’s for me! You’re gonna play this one.” And I was very grateful, and that guitar ended up becoming like kind of a signature thing for me.

Jonathan Clarke: Nick & Darian thank you guys so much. The new CRX album is Peek. It sounds fantastic.

Nick: Thanks Johnathan.

Darian: Thank you.

Jonathan Clarke: And it sounds fantastic on the radio which we’re gonna do right now actually. Everyone go see them tonight at the Mercury Lounge here in New York City and you can get all the tour dates for the band at crxmusic.com. Thanks guys.

Darian: Thank you.

Nick: Thanks for having us man, great to see you again.

#CRX #Nick Valensi #Darian Zahedi #Transcription Work

[sixcastappreciation]

sixcago gave me my gay rights

alternative title: review of the evening sixcago show on july third

this is like almost 4k and its mostly just rambling but i need to express how much i love sixcago

like at least half of this is just me being gay so i bolded some of the things that i found really interesting and isnt just me like, freaking out

so to start off: holy shit. the energy of the entire show was amazing, it was really funny and fun and the acting/dancing/singing was on point like i cant think of a single complaint on the part of any of them.

so to get into the actual show

ex wives

when the curtain came up and the smoke started pouring out i actually felt my soul leave my body it was such a good moment

less than thirty seconds in brittney mack made eye contact with me and i swear to god my heart stopped and i honestly had trouble focusing on the rest of the song

i am not exaggerating that is the whole truth and nothing but the truth

shes............. literally so good im still shaking as i write this like three hours later

the third repetition of the rhyme where they all sound kinda pissed off? they nailed that

adrianna was so cute when she said “you wont try that again”

andrea holy shit. thats really a wrap on that

abby got that like, kinda head in the clouds thing that i feel like is janes Brand during this part

when he saw my portrait he was like JaaAAaaa

i love brittney mack

courtney knew what she was doing with that prick line. get it girl

anna has the most angelic voice i swear to god

the six of them work really well together on stage???? like i know its all choreo and stuff but you could Feel the energy that they had together it was good

oh man the choreo for the end. im so gay

intro thingy:

adrianna with that riff!!!!! we stan

annas face after “herstory” was iconic. she knew what she had done wrong

you couldnt hear the intro for maggie bc people were cheering so loud

the way adrianna says maria made me gay

abby also knows what she had to say. she knows how cursed janes sense of humor is and she was really playing it up

protestent............ protestant

“we’ll tell you what you want what you really really want” this made me laugh so hard i dont rly remember the next like thirty seconds because i was dying

“the biggest.... the firmest......... the fullest..............” im. i cant

no way

“maria” AGAIN adrianna please. please i cant handle it

“OH muy bien aHHah” not to be Lesbian On Main but fuck this was so cute

her emotion during the monologue was SO funny

it was peak, it was so good

she really gets it. i dont totally know what it is but this aragon monologue gets it

when she said “really trying” she did like, a motion. i cant go into more detail but Fuck

so after “move me into a convent” everyone like, gathered around aragon and adrianna did a

well idk what youd call it but a like

her entire torso swung around in a huge circle right before “i dont think i’d look that good in a wimple”

and idk what it was but that part just made me Lose It

adrianna had this way of making it all a little funnier?

like catherine is usually pretty Serious, i think but it felt like adrianna knew she was playing a character who was Like That, if you will, and was kinda leaning into breaking the fourth wall a little

i can probably elaborate if that doesnt make sense

you say its a pity cos quoting leviticus ill end up kiddiless all my life

she said that with such conviction goddamn

oh, he doesnt remember

this was so good

the “sh-”s were really funny

the fucking. i dont know what it is but the *ting*

holy shit

i cant put into words

how much i loved that part

the pause after “i’ll go” was............ expansive

i just checked it was 10 whole seconds

that doesnt sound long but it felt like forever

she went high on “end of my life” and thank u for mine adrianna hicks

the amount of no’s was impressive and im heart eyes for it

adrianna just had really good stage presence

like i caught myself looking at her during the dance breaks of all the songs when i wasnt looking at brittney

it was just so fun to watch her go!

dluh

during the intro of like “yeah, you know, the really important one” andrea was doing some Dumb Shit in the background

like i dont know exactly what it was but she was just like

idk like noodling around in the back

and i caught her eye and she like, smiled a little

the gasps the rest of them did were....... cute

then andrea busted out a full on fucking witches cackle

then she stuck her tongue out and looked like she was taking a selfie and it was so cute

like, her tongue was OUT

“not my thing” had the BIGGEST uwu energy of anything ive ever heard

i thought people were kidding when they said andrea boleyn had uwu energy

they were not

pret a manger barely came across as a real line it was more like, an experience

the sorry not sorry choreo. its so funny and cute and simultaneously cursed

the way andrea delivered her lines here was just

it was like, cutesy and fun but also kind of cursed

uwu

when she said “are you blind” andrea like, gestured to herself, in a like “look how hot i am” kinda way

which might be the standard? either way it made me laugh a lot

don’t be bitter/cos im fitter was the only line in the entire production said with a british accent and it fucking slayed me on sight one hit ko

i actually like that they changed “mate, what was i meant to do” to “wait, what was i meant to do” because

it implies that anne had no other train of thought than the one she was on and thats very funny to me

i think it fits w andreas portrayal too

everyone was like, fake crying when anne fake walked down the aisle and it was really funny imo

and as soon as she got to the end anne like, turned, yk?

bro just shut up

the entire audience gasped after that

andrea had actual like, panic on her face

then she led into “i guess he just really liked my head”

and there was a beat after that, where everyone laughed

it was long enough that everyone got the joke

then she mimed the blow job

her riff on “hell”? iconic

“wait, didnt you actually die” no jane she was beheaded but she was fine

abby seymour said dumbass rights she has the Dumbest Bitch energy god

“catherine of aragon had tragically died” catch adrianna looking like, yeah it was so sad for me, how terrible, right?

then boleyn goes off

the. fury, passion, anger, zest, contained in andreas “MASSIVE-”

“over my dead body” andrea gave her this look like, youre damn right it will be

heart of stone

oof

okay so the monologue

oof

“i was lucky. okay, i was really lucky” o o f

“edwina” is still cursed tho

i dont know what it was about this. i dont know if it was abby, or the dialogue, or just it being live but

this made it clear that jane had been Through It

like, this monologue came across (to me at least) as unquestionably a “woman who was abused trying to justify it to herself” kind of situation

“and that’s not because i was scared,” she said, wearing an absolutely terrified expression

this is where she started tearing up i think

okay i gotta take a moment here because

abby was fully crying before the song even started

like somewhere about halfway through her monologue she started tearing up

i was looking for it specifically

i wrote this before the last part so see above

so by the first fucking like of hos you could hear her voice breaking

holy shit ms meuller what the fuck

im not kidding who gave her the right

at the stagedoor she said that after this she was like, “well thats it for my makeup” when someone complimented her song

she is crying. the first chorus and she is actively crying. in the breaks between her lyrics you can hear her crying

abby went high on a couple of notes in here

she riffed on “truthfully” and it was, wow

she didnt go for the whistle tones which was, honestly? the most relatable thing in this entire show

but a couple of the other notes she went high on and they were so killer

there was a second or two of pause after the end where everyone just, absorbed things before the applause

i have some questions for abby about this actually because i dont know if its just because the monologue was different than im used to but

i just want to know if abby meant to have everything come off like That but god

the mental gymnastics jane is doing here are so intense

this performance genuinely changed how i listen to hos forever

i dont think i can ever peacefully listen to this song again

this song gave me so many layered emotions thank u abby mueller

haus of holbein

hans................................. *holbein*

the chaos

i honestly barely remember most of it it was

i had no idea who to be looking at

but i remember it being beautiful

i dont have the words to express how

fucking funny it was

the accents were hilarious

like they werent great german accents, but that made it far better

they were leaning into the ridiculousness of it all

the way abby said “but we cannot guarantee that you’ll still walk at forty” had me on the ground

ive spent the last 24 hrs trying to figure out exactly why it was so funny and i think i got it

she dropped the german accent

and she straight up sounded like she was reading off the side effects of a pharmaceutical ad on tv

the freeze frame? legendary

anna and courtney (im pretty sure?) managed to look so genuinely offended that henry swiped left on them

your highness your highness your highness

god adrianna please

actually every h sound that came out of their mouths

but adrianna Got It

get down

oh god i gotta talk about “didnt live up to his expectations”

brittney like, half took off her jacket and gestured to her body and like, body rolled a bit and honestly? i was fucking dead

the sarcasm really jumped out here. brittney went off in the best way possible

she was fully fake sobbing right before “tragic”

fucking legend

brING me some pheasant!

the woof line is always a good moment but their facial expressions really made it work here

this song has the most outwardly complex choreo (ofc i cant speak to its actual difficulty) and every single one of them crushed it

brittney made eye contact w me again on “looking cute” and im deceased

oh god after “take my fur” she whispered “thank you. honestly” and gestured to herself again and like, i was dying

iirc brittney was like, skipping across the stage or something on “i look more rad” and snapped into position for “lutheranism”

we gotta take a moment to appreciate the operatic talent of that one “get down you dirty rascal” instead of the slo mo

like, ofc the slo mo is a good moment but

brittney went full opera and it was,

wow

shes got a voice on her holy shit

so much talent in such a tiny body

aCHYEAH

she picked the person sitting next to me to dance w her and

they did their cute little dance thing and then brittney gestured like, go sit down, and the person did, then stood back up and started dancing again

not like, in a bad way i dont think

it was super fuckin funny and after the song brittney was like “oh that was cute you think youre funny”

but i heard them talking at the stagedoor and like, brittney was chill it wasnt like a violation of anything

im not explaining it very well but it was really funny in person

everything about her on stage was just, so enrapturing

i dont have too many specific notes about this song because it would probably turn into just, me being gay, which is enough of this already

anyway! get down was good brittney mack is a stellar cleves

her fake crying is next level tho

the confrontation

boleyn, unprompted: i lost my head!

the beheaded cousins high fived after “nice neck” and like, stuck out their necks a bit it was so funny

seymours “i died”

we all know abby is gonna kill her line delivery

but GOD

and then after, she like, realized what she had said and struck a pose like, shit please still think im regal

the line itself was actually pretty, uhhhh, sad

theres something about boleyn roasting khoward in andreas voice

courtney with that “and your songs” had perfect timing

also “when will justice be SERVED” had such good punch to it

after she did that she like

rubbed her hand on janes face

and abby looked SO offended

theres something so, sincere about courtneys delivery of her roasts that i hadnt been getting and its SO much funnier to me

i forget exactly where but at some point boleyn aragon and howard were arguing

and in the background it really looked like seymour and cleves were having a normal conversation and i lost it like. they were just chattin

there were a couple moments of like, cleves and seymour interacting and it was interesting

aywd

courtney! mack! took! no! prisoners!

jesus christ

okay so i dont know if other howards do this or if it was just because i was seeing it live and up close and that made the difference but

for me the most compelling part of this howard was the fear

like yes there was the sadness/anger/etc like there was good emotion but

from the “he says we have a connection” re: henry, and then on, everything about courtneys body language just screamed that she was afraid

idk i might expand on this in a separate post because its a darker topic but yeah. holy shit that was emotional

not a single person clapped after the last line. they all waited until after “yeah, and then i was beheaded” before clapping

like the theater was dead silent. DEAD silent

it was like, so haunting because it was just courtney on stage at that point, with just the white spotlight on her, it was a Moment

im not sure i have the heart right now to get too deep into this

if it would be particularly interesting to anyone feel free to ask, im happy to get more into it but idk its just Emotional

actually this is already so long ima go for it

so on each “we have a connection” it was uhhhh parr and aragon (i think) who each put a hand on like, her clavicle

and for the first two verses she grabbed one of the hands and was like, flirty? ig

but on the one about henry seymour also put a hand around her waist and she like

she freaked out

and listening back to the audio i can

unpopular opinion perhaps but the actual emotion of her on stage didnt come thru in the audio

because it was so physical

like you could see how scared she was

which made it more relateable to me honestly

like she looked so so scared

it was heartbreaking

the confrontation part ii

oh BOOH OO MISTERESSES

“okay catherine, babes” is CUTE fight me

anna looked like, progressively more concerned as that beat went on, and then she just kinda like, deflated? it was really funny tbh

idk her parr feels Different than the parr im used to

during “oh im catherine parr i draw the line in arbitrary places” courtney was playing with her hair it was hashtag cute

BACKING VOCALS RIP CATHY PARR

idnyl

a cute little b flat major 7

yeah anna parr seems

hmm

she seems like she’s just, over henry

like from the start she just has no time for him

idk im Conceptualizing

anna uzele is

her voice is next level

she put survived in the “got married to the king became the one who survived” in air quotes which i think is an interesting note

anna got really physically into the “remember that...” bit of it and everyone in the back was also having a good time with it it was Good

andrea. she stuck her pointer finger between two of her other fingers on her other hand for the “my sixth finger” line and it was SO funny

khoward keeping aragon in line was

not the hot take i was expecting but nevertheless the one we deserved

both for “dissolution of the monasteries” and “well actually”

idk it was a cute character moment

one of *unsure, disgusted, vaguely annoyed* siiiIIIiix

abby was right in front of me and she looked SO uncomf

yeah, i read

iconique

andrea like, threw her head back for this line

the pause after “theres not much we can do about it now” is

painfully long and so so so funny

i was only really looking at brittney but she was like, arms down head up no body language it was SO funny

also her “yeah?” ended my life

she raised the mic up to her mouth while not moving an inch of the rest of her body

the part where they get all meta. has me dead

it was about halfway through this second part that i realized cleves had her coat back. i dont know when that happened. if anyone else knows when exactly anna of cleves gets her coat back after it gets taken off in get down please tell me. i genuinely want to know

this actually distracted me

i got vibes that they genuinely hated henry during this part

first off, mood

secondly, good

annas riffing. god.

she is so talented

dsfjksdf they all straight up left

six

the opening moment is really sweet and kinda funny

abby again killing it with janes cursed lines

courtney howard is actually so cute

when shes not being heartbreakingly sad that is

like her “bye!” was so cute

theyre all so supportive of each other its very cute

megasix

adrianna and abby both looked into my camera and like, i died

at the end anna and brittney were doing some dumb shit as they walked off stage and it was SO cute

after the show

i went to the stagedoor and it was a really fun experience! ive never done that before

it seemed like everyone was being pretty respectful and stuff, thank u six fans for being sane

i got four signatures on my program dklfjsldfjds

abby was such a sweetheart, we actually talked a tiny bit

i told her i loved her line delivery (because uhhhhhh i do) and she said that she tries to get in that comedic timing when she has Those Lines and like yeah

she was seriously the nicest

the ladies in waiting came out as well and everyone cheered for them and lets be real they DESERVE it

lemme sidebar here actually and talk about the ladies in waiting because

they killed it

bessie on the bass was living her best life at literally all times

brittney was also super sweet! i told her she had good energy (because uhhhhhh she does) and she was very nice about it!!!

i didnt really talk to anna or andrea but i got their signatures!

also speaking of my program im still losing my mind over “remembered for: headlessness” and “remembered for: staying alive”

thank u sixcago program

in conclusion! this was such a great+special experience!!! all of the actors were incredible, it was so wonderful

im also not claiming any of this stuff was unique to this performance or to sixcago in general this was just the stuff i noticed as i was watching it. if you clown on this post ill end u

#six the musical #sixcago #** #i typed up no way dluh idnyl and the after show part in a daze as soon as i got back #i got more of it filled in later and then i kinda lost steam #and im filling in the last bit almost a day later so yeah thats why some of its Like That #i ran out of energy for six/megasix but im not sure when ill get the energy so #and also this is Long as Fuck #and i have even more thoughts re: the cast and their portrayals #esp vs the west end cast portrayals

[findmyrupertfriend]

Strange Angel - “Augurs of Spring”

(This is a recap/review of the first episode of Strange Angel. There are spoilers, so proceed with caution!)

The first episode opens on an ancient hunting scene, beneath a bright red moon. The hunter (Wan Hu portrayed by Telly Liu) strikes against a large tiger. The scene is bathed in deep reds, with dramatic music. A whistle interrupts the action, and we are introduced to Jack Parsons (Jack Reynor). He’s on his lunch break, reading a comic, Amazing and True, The Path of the Hunter by Christopher Dexter. His boss orders him back to work, and we immediately discover Jack’s resistance to authority. 

Turns out Jack is a janitor at Pueblo Powder Co. He steals some gunpowder on the sly and gets to work in his garage building his experiment, before driving out into the desert to meet his partner, Richard Onstead (Peter Mark Kendall). 

Jack: “Ad astra…”

Richard: “Per aspera.”

(Per aspera ad astra (or, less commonly, ad astra per aspera) is a popular Latin phrase meaning "through hardship to the stars.”) Jack lights the fuse, and the rocket falls well short of their hopes.

Susan Parsons (Bella Heathcote) is at home reading the Bible, waiting up for Jack. She hides it in the mattress. Jack arrives home and fills his wife in, casually lying about the distance the rocket reached. Then he hits his wife up for more money when they’re behind on their mortgage. Nice!! (Blowing shit up is expensive, honey!!) 

What’s even nicer is having sex with your wife while she lays still, looking uncomfortable as fuck. I didn’t quite catch this on my first watch, but thanks to Sydney, it looks like Jack pulls out before coming (because he never wanted to have kids, per the book. Susan gives Jack a sex rag to clean up. The whole scene shows their awkwardness and stiffness with one another.  The music is also a little creepy here, just a piano playing simple keys before a slightly fuller sound. Jack hears a noise outside, and that’s when he sees Ernest Donovan (Rupert Friend) moving in next door.

Jack: “Who moves in the middle of the night?”

The next morning, Jack heads over to Caltech for a big meeting with Richard and Professor Mesulam (Rade Serbedzija). Again, you see Jack breaking rules, going where he is not allowed. Richard is clearly not happy with him and doesn’t think they are ready to present their proposal. However, Jack is not deterred one bit, maybe because Richard has his professional career at stake. 

Jack: “Have a little faith, Rich. They’ll be naming buildings after us by the time we’re done.” (clever, eh?)

Professor Mesulam is not convinced and warns Jack and Richard about biting off more than they can chew.

Professor Mesulam: “Small advances needed before big ones can be made.”

Jack: “What if we’re not content to be someone else’s stepping stone?”

Jack continues countering Professor Mesulam, even minimizing the fact that he did not complete his undergraduate degree. Protocols just “weigh him down.” The meeting ends on the wrong note, so Jack returns to convince (exaggerating along the way) Professor Mesulam to observe their next demonstration. Much to Richard’s anxiety, the professor agrees. 

The objective of the meeting was to get approval to build a functional rocket motor, but of course, Jack misrepresented their work as they already built one. Can you spell L-I-A-R?

Richard: “I just wish that you’d stick to the facts once in a while.”

After the meeting, Jack once again stretches the truth to Susan, who seems to be very much invested in her husband’s success. Next, the Parsons decide to walk over some banana bread and introduce themselves to their new neighbor.

Ernest answers the door with his lovely, calm goat in his arms. His oversized clothes and he, himself, look rather dirty.  Ernest sports a semi-confused/bemused look on his face at the Parsons and all their neighborly pleasantries. Susan invites Ernest and his wife (who is not currently present) over for dinner. Ernest fixes Susan with a creepy smile, as if he’s slightly mocking them, and adds, “Well, that’d be swell.”

The next scene returns to the comic Jack enjoyed. He reads it out loud to his wife. The ancient hunter is naked in bed, surrounded by naked women writhing around him. Wan Hu is seeking more thrills, but is he is filled with “restless longing.” The comic is used to illustrate Jack’s own relentless pursuits in life. 

Susan: “I know. This man wants to glimpse the sublime.”

Jack: “Yeah. exactly.”

Susan: “They could make that clear enough without all the lurid detail.”

Jack: “Yes, but then who would want to read it?” (ha-ha)

The couple waits for Ernest and his wife to join them for dinner, but Ernest had other plans it seems. He stands them up, and the Parsons are left to finish their awkward dinner alone with one another. There’s a lot that’s not being said between these two.

Jack is working in his shed again when he hears Ernest return home on his motorcycle. He crashes/slides into the garage. Jack helps him up and tries to engage a drunk Ernest in discussing why he didn’t show up for dinner. At first, Ernest just ignores him, walking off.

Jack: “Hey. I’m talking to you.”

Ernest: “Eh, I didn’t feel like it.”

Jack: “You didn’t feel like it?”

Ernest: “I’m trying to find my true path. How can I do that talking about barbecues and lawnowers?” 

Ernest looks incredulous when Jack tells him he’s never gone up to the oil derricks on the hill above their house. He persuades Jack to follow him, while Ernest sings, almost chants, really. It was described as dirge-like signing.

Ernest: “A ka dua…tuf ur…biu…bi a’a”

Jack and Ernest make small talk as they make their way to the top. They come across a mountain lion. Jack looks scared. Ernest looks…delighted.

Ernest: “Look at that. Step outside your yard, never know what you find.”

Ernest extends his right arm out, with index and middle fingers pointed at the mountain lion in the shape of a handgun. 

Ernest and the mountain lion stare each other down. Ernest shapes his hand into a fist, and the standoff ends with the mountain lion walking away. Ernest continues on as if nothing happened, but Jack is still shaken. When Jack declines to move further, Ernest mimics a chicken, arms, body, voice and all. I totally snickered at this part, because now Ernest is the one goading Jack into taking risks, whereas Jack is always the one pushing the other people in his life to accept more risk. And what does Jack do? He runs after Ernest…

Their small talk continues, and Jack attempts to explain Newton’s third law of motion. Ernest is sharp and picks up the gist of it in a flash.

Ernest: “So there’s a part that’s trying to burst free, and another part that needs to keep it in control.” 

Interesting…so is Jack the part that’s trying to burst free? And who is keeping him under control? 

Jack offers to light Ernest’s cigarette. Ernest cups his hands over Jack’s and takes a deep drag while staring straight at Jack. The flame from the cigarette lights up Ernest’s face, and you can see his intense eyes. Ernest appears to be on the verge of leaning forward as he smokes, but Jack takes a clear step back from Ernest. Jack’s face looks hard, and this time he stares back at Ernest, suggesting he should head back home. Ernest’s face is covered in shadows now, but you can see some clenching of his jaw and the angles of his cheekbones. It’s an odd, intimate moment followed by more eerie-sounding music. (Can’t wait to hear that soundtrack!)

Jack and Ernest are now walking together on the street, presumably headed back home as Jack suggested. The street lighting and old cars lining the curbs are just beautiful in this scene. Here, you also see more of Ernest’s gait. He walks in an almost bow-legged and bouncy fashion. 

Ernest: “You know, my teacher always told me there’s only two kinds of people in this world. The ones who want to follow the rules, and the ones that want to break them.”

Jack: “Oh yeah? What kind of teacher is that?”

Ernest: “Only teacher ever taught me anything worth learning.”

Jack: “Now you take all these houses here, (Ernest outstretches his arms to gesture towards the houses surrounding them.) with their walls designed to keep us out. Now why should we obey that?”

Jack: “Cause the law says we have to.”

Ernest: “Whose law?” (Ernest takes off running.)

Jack: “What are you doing?” 

Ernest: (Ernest turns around and yells, wide-eyed.) “There is no law, beyond “Do what thou wilt!”

That Ernest jumped the damn fence into someone’s yard. This guy is full of surprises! And what does Jack do? He follows Ernest once again…

Jack finds Ernest at the bottom of a pool, and he won’t come out. So Jack jumps in to find a smiling Ernest. 

Jack pulls him out of the water as laughter bursts from Ernest’s mouth. Of course, Ernest thinks he’s funny. Of course, Jack isn’t amused. I find it amusing because Jack is getting somewhat a taste of his own medicine. And who better to give it to him, than Ernest? Oh, but Ernest keeps pushing Jack further…quite literally, Ernest pushes Jack’s head under water until Jack frees himself. Ernest tries to pull him back in.

Ernest: (laughing) “You are gonna have to try harder than that.”

Jack elbows Ernest in the face and draws blood.

Jack: “Is that what you wanted?”

Ernest: “That’s what you wanted.”

Ernest is most pleased, wiping some blood on a finger and loudly sucking it off with his grinning mouth. Jack climbs out of the pool, and Ernest howls like a wolf, arms raised, almost chasing Jack out of the yard. But the whole incident was not for nothing. Being held captive under the water with the air bubbles rising gives Jack an idea on how to fix his problem with the demonstration.

Jack explains his plan to Richard at a bar. He just needs methanol, liquid fuel, to eliminate air pockets. Richard has access to methanol at Caltech but doesn’t want to budge, even when Jack enlists the help of two young ladies at the bar. Jack presents Richard as an up-and-comer to the ladies. 

Woman: “Caltech, huh? We don’t get to meet a lot of smart guys.”

Richard: “I’m not surprised.”

Wow. Richard is quite the wet noodle. These two have a push and pull relationship. We learn Jack and Richard knew each other as kids, with Jack beating up other kids who picked on Richard. 

At the end of the discussion, Richard has an epiphany on inverting the launch and holding it in place.

Later that night, while Jack is sleeping, he hears a noise and walks outside. (The noise was our poor little goat bleating and being slaughtered off-screen. You can actually hear the blood flowing.) Jack sees Ernest walking from his backyard to his motorcycle, carrying two glass milk jars filled with some very red blood. Ernest wipes off a long, slightly curved knife onto a rag, hops on his motorcycle, and leaves. (He’s wearing a great, light-colored leather jacket in this scene, by the way. It looks filthy, but still cool.)

Jack follows Ernest to a gorgeous house in a very nice neighborhood. Jack watches Ernest walk into the home along with many well-dressed (well, better dressed than Ernest, that’s for sure) people. Jack approaches the house slowly, then moves quickly, peeking through a window to see two people pouring and mixing a glass jar of blood into a bowl of some kind? Maybe it’s a pot on the stove because you can hear the bubbling as the blood is poured and stirred (blech). Jack hears the singing, the same singing that came from Ernest when they walked up the hill. He follows the sound, climbing on top of a carport, up to the second story of the house. 

Jack sees people standing in rows, as a man in vestments pronounces himself as “priest and king.” The man reaches for a knife, and Jack is clearly stunned. As the man approaches a naked woman, who he calls a virgin, he raises his knife. Jack yells out, causing everyone to stop and turn. It’s dead silent. Jack slides off the carport and falls onto the ground as people run out of the house. Jack makes it to his truck and speeds away as Ernest rushes out of the house, just in time to see his neighbor. Ernest has a sly look on his face. You know he has more games planned for Jack.

 In the next scene, Susan is at work for her father (Virgil Byrne portrayed by Michael Gaston), typing up collection notices to delinquent borrowers while he dictates. He adds a lovely piece of scripture at the end of the note, and the irony is not lost on me.

Virgil: “As it is written in Psalm 37, the wicked borrows but does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives.”

Susan’s father is quite over-bearing and strong-arms his daughter into coming for dinner on Sunday. He especially wants to speak to Jack about their delinquent mortgage. 

Meanwhile, Jack and Richard are working on their demonstration. They have a nice little heart to heart, where Jack once again lies to Richard. He gives Richard a hug, and there’s a strange awkwardness. I wonder if Richard has some kind of repressed feelings for Jack - maybe…maybe not. But the hug was just a ruse to pickpocket Richard, getting his wallet, and impersonating him for some methanol at Caltech. 

(There’s a scene on the comic with Wan Hu again while Jack dreams. This time, Wan Hu attaches rockets to his throne.)

Susan wakes Jack the next morning, and he hurries off. Jack and Richard travel along in one car, followed by Professor Mesulam. Jack speeds up in order to come clean on the methanol before the demonstration begins.

Jack: (to Richard) “Do what thou wilt.”

The demonstration gets off to a shaky start, so Jack floors the methanol to illustrate they could launch a rocket into the ionosphere.

Richard: “That’s enough.”

Jack: “You can’t know what’s enough til you know what’s more than enough.”

The readings show they achieved their objective, and the professor is impressed.  While they celebrate, the apparatus catches fire. As it catches fires, Jack imagines Wan Hu.

Wan Hu: “If you never face down death, you’ll never glimpse what’s on the other side.” 

Wan Hu lets a fiery arrow loose, but it’s really a piece of debris from the explosion. This time, Richard saves Jack by pushing him out of the way. And Jack laughs like a hyena…kinda like someone near and dear to our hearts.

While Jack is blowing shit up, Susan comes home from praying at church to find a note impaled by a knife, into their front door. Jack returns ready to celebrate, but Susan is shaken and shows Jack the piece of paper.

Susan: “What could it possibly mean?”

I really enjoyed this first episode. Jack is definitely an exaggerator and a liar of all sorts. For all the risks he is taking in his professional life, he is taking close to none in her personal life - yet. Susan appears to be...unhappy, yet she is a very supportive wife. They just both seem so repressed in their lives together. 

Ernest is everything and then some, as we have gathered from various articles and interviews. I cannot look away from this character. I can sense he is absolutely a catalyst to change the Parsons’ lives completely, and I can’t wait to see more! Til next week...

#strange angel #augurs of spring #season 1 #strange angel recap review #ernest donovan #by: laura #hot damn #i am enjoying this too much #can't wait til next week

[fairyling]

blackbird // stenbrough

summary: stan wants to fly, but he can’t. he wants to be free.

a/n: i took canon from the book and canon from the movie. i know the blood oath scene isn’t completely accurate but i couldn’t pull up the exact scene to make it perfect! 

trigger warning: suicide, self harm

word count: 1989

The wounds on Stan’s face were still bleeding as he sat on a log and Eddie dabbed at the blood with a clean gauze pad. Stan flinched every time the pad touched his face, but Eddie stopped commenting on it by the third time. Bill sat on one side of him and held his hand while Mike stood behind him and played with his hair. Richie and Beverly were smoking on the side while casting the occasional nervous glance in Stan’s direction. Ben was seated near Eddie and handing him things as he requested them. “I hope it’s dead.” He can hear Eddie mumbling it under his breath and Stan doesn’t comment. This was before the blood oath and Stan and Eddie are currently the only ones with wounds to bear from the evil entity in the sewers.

Stan also hoped to never have to face the clown again. Everyone seemed to be starting to forget the details about what happened, but Stan still remembered. They couldn’t remember the color of the pom poms on the clown’s suit-- orange. They also forgot some other small details about their encounters with It. Stan still remembered, though. He remembered every detail about the clown with a painful sort of perfection. It would sometimes come to him in the middle of the night and Stan would wake up with a cold sweat and a fear in the pit of his stomach. Since his encounter, a night light sat in the corner of his room. Stan would unplug it when his friends came over so that he could hide it from his friends, but this would leave him as the last to fall asleep among his friends. Stan was too scared of what lurked in the dark.

There’s a blackbird in a tree near where everyone was sitting. Stan tilted his head to watch the bird, trying to find something to focus on other than the pain in his face. Eddie is talking about the kind of infections that he could get from being in the sewers when the wound happened and Stan almost finds it amusing that someone covered in vomit from a demonic entity is talking about possible infections. He doesn’t comment, though. Instead Stan watches the blackbird in the tree and smiles as it starts to make some noise. As he focuses on the bird, the pain in his face starts to dull.

“When I die, I’m going to come back as a bird.” Stan says, turning to Bill.  His face was bandaged properly and they’re watching the birds. Bill never really enjoyed birdwatching, but it calmed Stan down so he pretended that he did.

“W-why?” Bill turns to look at Stan, wincing when he sees the bandages that Eddie had wrapped around the other’s face. Neither boy really wanted to go home so it made sense for the two of them to be sitting together while Stan watched the birds. Bill wasn’t ready to go and pretend that none of this happened while his parents pretended that both of their sons had died. Stan wasn’t ready for the questions that his parents would ask upon seeing the injury.

“That’s a Zenaida macroura. Or a mourning dove.” Stan mumbles, pointing a bird in the tree. A silence fell over the pair as Bill waited for Stan to answer the question. Stan would answer the question, but he had to think about it. “In this body.. I feel like a bird with broken wings. I want to fly away, but I just can’t.” he finally says, glancing at Bill. It was true. Stan wanted to leave Derry more times than not, but he was too scared to follow through on any of his plans to run away.

“One day I’ll be free. One day nothing will plague me.”

“I h-hope so, Stan.”

While Bill was hoping that one day Stan would overcome the things that plague him, Stan was planning on one day never having to think about it again.

The others were still around, no one was quite ready to go home after dealing with such a horrific experience. Stan didn’t like how uncomfortable he felt in his own skin when he thought about what just happened. He felt so dirty and the boy didn’t know how many baths he’d have to take before he didn’t want to cut himself out of his own skin. Stan scanned the faces of all of his friends and an idea came to his mind. Richie was tossing rocks into a pile while Eddie sat beside him and traced over the words on his cast with his finger. Mike was near Richie and trying to throw his rocks farther than Richie. Ben and Beverly were side by side, but neither seemed to be talking.

Stan cast a glance at Bill who seemed to suddenly interest himself with a thread on his shirt. Sighing, the boy got up and walked into the woods. He was in search of something sharp and he was delighted when he found a discarded Coca-Cola bottle. Any thoughts of where the bottle might have been or how dirty it could be stayed away as Stan picked it up and smashed it against a rock. With careful fingers he searched through the shards for one to his liking.

Stan walked back through the weeds with a decent sized piece of glass in his hand. “We should all promise that we’re going to come back and defeat It if it isn’t really dead.” he started, walking towards the center of where his friends were standing. They looked up with a surprised, yet understanding look on their faces. Slowly everyone got to their feet and walked towards Stan. He cut everyone’s palms one by one until he was the only one left. “Maybe I should just slit my wrists instead.” he mumbled, looking at the piece of glass in his hands rather than at his friends.

Bill cast a worried glance at his friend and thought about saying something, but the moment was over too quickly as Stan’s palm was now bleeding. Everyone held hands as they swore to come back if It wasn’t really defeated. It was after this that people started to go home.

Things had faded for Bill as he got older. His memories of It had almost disappeared completely, his stutter only came back in times of raw emotion, and Bill couldn’t exactly remember what happened to Georgie. All he remembered was that he had a brother when he was younger, but something happened and now things were different. Sometimes it bothered Bill that he couldn’t remember more, but he would never dwell on the topic. It gave him a headache whenever he thought about it for too long.

“Do you remember what happened to your face?” he had asked Stan one day. The boy had looked at Bill with an embarrassed frown, but hadn’t answered right away. After a few moments he shook his head and mumbled a weak ‘no’, but Bill knew that Stan wasn’t telling the truth. Yet, he never pushed the topic. The two had known each other for long enough that Bill knew Stan would talk about things if and when he was ready. Something told Bill that they had been through something big together, they all had. That something may have been the source of the faint scars around Stanley’s face, but, again, he never allowed his mind to sit on the issue.

“I’m going to die one day.” Stan starts, eyes focused on a mother bird in a nest with her eggs. There was a pause before Stan realized what he said. “I mean, we all are.” he added, after a moment. This time he glanced at Bill who had been laying on his stomach while he wrote in his notebook. They were both seniors in high school and it seemed like that was all Bill did nowadays. Stan understood. He figured if he had forgotten everything the way the rest of the losers had then maybe he’d have a hobby to take up all his time so he didn’t hurt his mind trying to think about what he didn’t know. Perhaps bird watching was Stan’s own way of coping with everything that happened. He wished that he had forgotten as well, though.

“I’m going to come back as a bird. I’ll be free. I can go wherever I wish and I’ll be safe.” he added as he watched a bird fly away from a tree. It was so high up in the sky, Stan wished that one day he’d know what the world looked like from that point of view. “I think I should have been born as a bird and not a human. I feel like my wings are broken. I feel trapped. I want to leave.” Stan’s voice sounded desperate and sad as he stared at the sky.

After a few moments he let his eyes fall shut and he swallowed thickly. “We all want to leave, Stan. Remember? Beverly was dying to get out of Derry. When Richie left he had a hard time saying goodbye to all of us, but you know just as well as I do that he hasn’t thought about any of us since then. Eddie hated to admit that he’d be the same way, but he hasn’t written to any of us since he left. Ben still comes around, but you and I both know that he’s dreaming of something else. The only person that seems content here is Mike. He seems happy with his job at the library and he seems happy with the farm.” came Bill’s voice. Stan opened his eyes to look at Bill once more and sighed.

“Are you going to turn on us and never look back?”

“Are you?”

Both boys fell into a silence as they both knew the answer, but Bill didn’t know that Stan’s answer wasn’t what he thought.

“You have to come back.” Mike’s voice rang in Stan’s ears as he told his wife that he was going to take a bath. The last time he took a bath was when he was a child and he could still feel the slime of the sewers on his skin. As Stan turned on the water, he heard an owl by the window of his bathroom. His mind was suddenly back to when he was sitting with his friends after fighting It. He thought he still remembered everything, but thoughts came rushing back that hadn’t crossed his mind since he was eleven years old.

Stan thought about people he hadn’t seen in years as he stared out the window in search of the owl. He remembered staring at a mourning dove when he decided to cut everyone’s palms for this exact reason. There was a bittersweet laugh as Stan remembered what the mourning dove stood for. It’s name meant death, but the bird symbolized anything but. It was a sign of life, renewal, hope and optimism. Perhaps he was hopeful that he would feel that way when the time came to go back to Derry.

Stan had given up searching for the owl and was now rifling through his bathroom for a straight edge razor. The world felt anything but hopeful right now. He found the razor and climbed into the tub. Suddenly a new memory came to mind as Stan felt the warm water envelop him and he remembered making a joke about slitting his wrists when they made the oath. The white scar on his palm stood out as he stared at the blade in his hand. How different would everything be if he had just done it then? At that age, had he known that he’d give in to his memories?

The last thought that passed through Stan’s mind before he closed his eyes forever was that he’d finally be able to fly.

The wounds on Stan’s face were still bleeding as he sat on a log and Eddie dabbed at the blood with a clean gauze pad. Stan flinched every time the pad touched his face, but Eddie stopped commenting on it by the third time. Bill sat on one side of him and held his hand while Mike stood behind him and played with his hair. Richie and Beverly were smoking on the side while casting the occasional nervous glance in Stan’s direction. Ben was seated near Eddie and handing him things as he requested them. “I hope it’s dead.” He can hear Eddie mumbling it under his breath and Stan doesn’t comment. This was before the blood oath and Stan and Eddie are currently the only ones with wounds to bear from the evil entity in the sewers.

Stan also hoped to never have to face the clown again. Everyone seemed to be starting to forget the details about what happened, but Stan still remembered. They couldn’t remember the color of the pom poms on the clown’s suit-- orange. They also forgot some other small details about their encounters with It. Stan still remembered, though. He remembered every detail about the clown with a painful sort of perfection. It would sometimes come to him in the middle of the night and Stan would wake up with a cold sweat and a fear in the pit of his stomach. Since his encounter, a night light sat in the corner of his room. Stan would unplug it when his friends came over so that he could hide it from his friends, but this would leave him as the last to fall asleep among his friends. Stan was too scared of what lurked in the dark.

There’s a blackbird in a tree near where everyone was sitting. Stan tilted his head to watch the bird, trying to find something to focus on other than the pain in his face. Eddie is talking about the kind of infections that he could get from being in the sewers when the wound happened and Stan almost finds it amusing that someone covered in vomit from a demonic entity is talking about possible infections. He doesn’t comment, though. Instead Stan watches the blackbird in the tree and smiles as it starts to make some noise. As he focuses on the bird, the pain in his face starts to dull.

“When I die, I’m going to come back as a bird.” Stan says, turning to Bill.  His face was bandaged properly and they’re watching the birds. Bill never really enjoyed birdwatching, but it calmed Stan down so he pretended that he did.

“W-why?” Bill turns to look at Stan, wincing when he sees the bandages that Eddie had wrapped around the other’s face. Neither boy really wanted to go home so it made sense for the two of them to be sitting together while Stan watched the birds. Bill wasn’t ready to go and pretend that none of this happened while his parents pretended that both of their sons had died. Stan wasn’t ready for the questions that his parents would ask upon seeing the injury.

“That’s a Zenaida macroura. Or a mourning dove.” Stan mumbles, pointing a bird in the tree. A silence fell over the pair as Bill waited for Stan to answer the question. Stan would answer the question, but he had to think about it. “In this body.. I feel like a bird with broken wings. I want to fly away, but I just can’t.” he finally says, glancing at Bill. It was true. Stan wanted to leave Derry more times than not, but he was too scared to follow through on any of his plans to run away.

“One day I’ll be free. One day nothing will plague me.”

“I h-hope so, Stan.”

While Bill was hoping that one day Stan would overcome the things that plague him, Stan was planning on one day never having to think about it again.

The others were still around, no one was quite ready to go home after dealing with such a horrific experience. Stan didn’t like how uncomfortable he felt in his own skin when he thought about what just happened. He felt so dirty and the boy didn’t know how many baths he’d have to take before he didn’t want to cut himself out of his own skin. Stan scanned the faces of all of his friends and an idea came to his mind. Richie was tossing rocks into a pile while Eddie sat beside him and traced over the words on his cast with his finger. Mike was near Richie and trying to throw his rocks farther than Richie. Ben and Beverly were side by side, but neither seemed to be talking.

Stan cast a glance at Bill who seemed to suddenly interest himself with a thread on his shirt. Sighing, the boy got up and walked into the woods. He was in search of something sharp and he was delighted when he found a discarded Coca-Cola bottle. Any thoughts of where the bottle might have been or how dirty it could be stayed away as Stan picked it up and smashed it against a rock. With careful fingers he searched through the shards for one to his liking.

Stan walked back through the weeds with a decent sized piece of glass in his hand. “We should all promise that we’re going to come back and defeat It if it isn’t really dead.” he started, walking towards the center of where his friends were standing. They looked up with a surprised, yet understanding look on their faces. Slowly everyone got to their feet and walked towards Stan. He cut everyone’s palms one by one until he was the only one left. “Maybe I should just slit my wrists instead.” he mumbled, looking at the piece of glass in his hands rather than at his friends. 

Bill cast a worried glance at his friend and thought about saying something, but the moment was over too quickly as Stan’s palm was now bleeding. Everyone held hands as they swore to come back if It wasn’t really defeated. It was after this that people started to go home.

Things had faded for Bill as he got older. His memories of It had almost disappeared completely, his stutter only came back in times of raw emotion, and Bill couldn’t exactly remember what happened to Georgie. All he remembered was that he had a brother when he was younger, but something happened and now things were different. Sometimes it bothered Bill that he couldn’t remember more, but he would never dwell on the topic. It gave him a headache whenever he thought about it for too long. 

“Do you remember what happened to your face?” he had asked Stan one day. The boy had looked at Bill with an embarrassed frown, but hadn’t answered right away. After a few moments he shook his head and mumbled a weak ‘no’, but Bill knew that Stan wasn’t telling the truth. Yet, he never pushed the topic. The two had known each other for long enough that Bill knew Stan would talk about things if and when he was ready. Something told Bill that they had been through something big together, they all had. That something may have been the source of the faint scars around Stanley’s face, but, again, he never allowed his mind to sit on the issue.

“I’m going to die one day.” Stan starts, eyes focused on a mother bird in a nest with her eggs. There was a pause before Stan realized what he said. “I mean, we all are.” he added, after a moment. This time he glanced at Bill who had been laying on his stomach while he wrote in his notebook. They were both seniors in high school and it seemed like that was all Bill did nowadays. Stan understood. He figured if he had forgotten everything the way the rest of the losers had then maybe he’d have a hobby to take up all his time so he didn’t hurt his mind trying to think about what he didn’t know. Perhaps bird watching was Stan’s own way of coping with everything that happened. He wished that he had forgotten as well, though.

“I’m going to come back as a bird. I’ll be free. I can go wherever I wish and I’ll be safe.” he added as he watched a bird fly away from a tree. It was so high up in the sky, Stan wished that one day he’d know what the world looked like from that point of view. “I think I should have been born as a bird and not a human. I feel like my wings are broken. I feel trapped. I want to leave.” Stan’s voice sounded desperate and sad as he stared at the sky. 

After a few moments he let his eyes fall shut and he swallowed thickly. “We all want to leave, Stan. Remember? Beverly was dying to get out of Derry. When Richie left he had a hard time saying goodbye to all of us, but you know just as well as I do that he hasn’t thought about any of us since then. Eddie hated to admit that he’d be the same way, but he hasn’t written to any of us since he left. Ben still comes around, but you and I both know that he’s dreaming of something else. The only person that seems content here is Mike. He seems happy with his job at the library and he seems happy with the farm.” came Bill’s voice. Stan opened his eyes to look at Bill once more and sighed.

“Are you going to turn on us and never look back?”

“Are you?”

Both boys fell into a silence as they both knew the answer, but Bill didn’t know that Stan’s answer wasn’t what he thought.

“You have to come back.” Mike’s voice rang in Stan’s ears as he told his wife that he was going to take a bath. The last time he took a bath was when he was a child and he could still feel the slime of the sewers on his skin. As Stan turned on the water, he heard an owl by the window of his bathroom. His mind was suddenly back to when he was sitting with his friends after fighting It. He thought he still remembered everything, but thoughts came rushing back that hadn’t crossed his mind since he was eleven years old.

Stan thought about people he hadn’t seen in years as he stared out the window in search of the owl. He remembered staring at a mourning dove when he decided to cut everyone’s palms for this exact reason. There was a bittersweet laugh as Stan remembered what the mourning dove stood for. It’s name meant death, but the bird symbolized anything but. It was a sign of life, renewal, hope and optimism. Perhaps he was hopeful that he would feel that way when the time came to go back to Derry.

Stan had given up searching for the owl and was now rifling through his bathroom for a straight edge razor. The world felt anything but hopeful right now. He found the razor and climbed into the tub. Suddenly a new memory came to mind as Stan felt the warm water envelop him and he remembered making a joke about slitting his wrists when they made the oath. The white scar on his palm stood out as he stared at the blade in his hand. How different would everything be if he had just done it then? At that age, had he known that he’d give in to his memories?

The last thought that passed through Stan’s mind before he closed his eyes forever was that he’d finally be able to fly.

#stenbrough #stan uris #bill denbrough #stanley uris #it #fanfiction #mine

[writingismyhappytime]

Bucky Barnes (Part 2)

Bucky Barnes x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Language, violence, explosions, Hydra, cupcakes

A/N: Let’s not talk about how long this is or that I wrote over 8500 words in a few hours. If you want to be tagged, let me now.

You drink from your straw noisily, sitting at the small bar in Stark Tower, on the fifth floor. You can't very well stay in your own home, considering the entire front wall of your living room is out in the street.

Stark had been oh so gracious to offer you one of the apartments in his building, free of charge, and you'd oh so gladly accepted. Of course, it's not the same, and though it's spacious, you miss your own place. You've tried cleaning up the mess a little, shoveling the debris out onto the sidewalk for someone else to deal with. Construction teams are already over the city, which had been declared to be in "natural disaster mode."

Nothing that happened had been natural.

Now.

"Do you have to drink that so obnoxiously?" you hear someone grouch, and you half turn on your stool, seeing Tony Stark himself entering the lounge. He's dressed in a suit, a bruise under his eye you hadn't noticed until then. His dark hair is messy, like he's run his hands through it a hundred times. He must be stressing out, probably over the fact his girlfriend wants a break from him; you hear things.

You merely suck harder on the straw, creating more noise.

He sighs, and ignores you as he walks across the room to where Natasha and Rogers sit at the tables near the window. You suppose the area is more for dining, with the bar and the lounge chairs, the dining tables and the low lighting. Stark has a chef on call at all hours of the day, so anything anyone wanted from the kitchen was available.

The baker sucks, however. His cupcakes are too dry, and they crumble to pieces when you touch them. You've never been so disgusted of a pastry in your life.

"Natasha, have you seen Clint?" you hear Stark ask. "He was supposed to be here an hour ago for the meeting tonight."

"I haven't seen him. Have you called his wife?"

"She won't answer."

"Then he's probably avoiding you," the Russian spy shrugs her shoulders, looking uninterested. "You're pushy and annoying sometimes, Stark. He's probably already on his way here."

"This meeting is important, he can't just ignore my calls!"

"I think that's exactly what he's doing."

You lean onto the bar, your straw in your mouth as you chew on it. You're looking at your phone, trying to estimate how much the damages are going to cost you. You've a pen and paper in front of you, numbers scribbled all over them. The problem is, the numbers are adding up to be much more then what's in your bank account, and you're a thrifty spender as it is.

You're not sure what you're going to do.

Your insurance definitely isn't going to be able to pay, not considering the rest of the city is in shambles. You know you're not going to be able to bother relying on them, that it's basically going to be your own cash doing all the work.

Yikes.

You're not a construction worker, you have absolutely no idea how to do any of it yourself or you would. It peeves you that, even though you can easily lift heavy beams or anything else you need, you don't have the experience to do it correctly.

You can just see yourself getting electrocuted now, your life ending in a flash of light; you've fought aliens, yet you get killed by a toaster.

That would be your luck.

You sigh, scribbling some more notes onto the paper, trying to section everything out. New display cases, new cash register, new blackboard, new sets of tables and chairs, new industrial oven since yours has a steel rod through it, new ---- everything, really.

You need a new everything.

Your shoulders slump a little as you rap your nails against the bar.

Baby steps.

First, clean out all of the debris. Get it out of the open space. You know the ceiling has structural damage again, so without doubt you'll hire someone else to do that. You can go cheap for the furniture, and maybe find some second hand display cases?

Yikes.

"What's all the numbers for?"

Huh?

You glance over, seeing the young witch leaning against the bar beside you, a curious look on her face. She's young, inexperienced, and unlike you, she's afraid of her powers. If she would embrace them, and not fight them, she'd be more powerful then all of the rest of the Avengers combined.

But, you're not going to tell her that, you don't know her.

"How much it's going to cost to repair my bakery," you say after a moment, releasing the straw from your teeth.

"That big number?" Wanda blinks, and you nod your head in resignation.

"Yup."

"Yeesh. Why does an oven cost that much?"

"It's industrial, it bakes several things at once."

"Ah. And why does the counter have to be red? Does it matter?"

"Yes. I have to keep up the color scheme, I don't want it to be tacky." you reply, tapping the pen against your lips thoughtfully. You suppose you could just get a counter though and paint it, that might take a little of the cost down.

Wanda sits down beside you, waving the waiter over so she can order fries and a milkshake. She just sits there a few moments, leaving you to continue to work on your costs. Wanda reminds you of yourself, sort of lost, wandering around with no real direction. You don't know her background, just that Stark sort of took her in and looks after her.

She's nice, for the most part, and very accepting of everyone and their different abilities.

"So what's this meeting Stark mentioned?" you ask after a moment, keeping your voice low. You figure, if anyone, she would know.

"Oh, some big wigs are coming over tonight to discuss the damage of the city with Tony." Wanda informs you, reaching happily for her strawberry milkshake. "They're going to try to figure out what to do."

"I'm surprised this building survived the blast, it's so close to the south side." you comment.

"Tony built it himself, it can just about withstand anything." Wanda replies, giving you a halfsmile. "It's the safest place to be during a fight."

You're sure.

"I guess." you shrug your shoulders, watching as the hot basket of fries are delivered.

They smell wonderful, and you find your mouth watering. You probably should have ordered something to eat as well.

Wanda lifts a fry to her lips as you turn around, glancing back at where Stark is still standing with the others. They're still by the glass wall, overlooking the damage of the city. It looks bad, smoke still curling through the air where some fires still smoldered. The damage would take a long time to repair.

"Just tell him to meet me!" Stark eventually huffs in aggravation, turning on his heel and storming for the elevator. You watch him go, leaning back as you straighten, hearing some of your joints pop. Yeesh, you're getting old. Your muscles are still sore from the fight, and your hands are bruised purple and blue from your nails to your wrist.

They look worse then what they feel, though.

You know Wanda keeps glancing at them, discolored and bandaged. She knows what your power is, vaguely similar to hers in nature. You figure that's why she talks to you the most out of everyone else, why she asks you random advice sometimes. You're not much older then her, but you're in much more control then she is.

You've had a lot of practice.

~~~~~~~~

You creep silently through the building, heading for the lounge area you'd left hours ago. You're starving, you should have eaten earlier but you didn't. You sort of hope the kitchen area is abandoned, or that the on call chef is asleep so you can make your own food. You really don't like his cooking all that much.

You're pretty sure this is the time when he takes his nap, so you should have a good three hours to yourself.

You're going to make your own damned cupcake and not have to worry about his crappy ones! You dislike them greatly.

You glance around as you take the elevator, finding the carpeted halls are all abandoned this late. You couldn't sleep, but you rarely do. You're much more of a night person then you are a day person.

The elevator dings as it reaches the lounge, and you walk out, your shoes quiet against the shiny wood floor. You need some new ones, they're covered in ash and have a hole in the bottom, but obviously buying a pair any time soon is out of the question. Every dime you have is going to have to go to repairing your bakery.

It takes a lot more money then people suspect.

You creep into the kitchen area, the door opening silently. It's well lit, even now, but very much abandoned.

Yep, all to yourself!

Brightening, you glide forward, grabbing one of the aprons off the hook by the door. You hum softly as you pilfer through all the drawers and cabinets, getting everything you need. You don't use a mix, you create your batter from scratch, and you're pleased to find all the ingredients for your vanilla cupcakes.

At least the kitchen is well stocked.

You grab a mixing bowl, adding all the ingredients and using the hand mixer, your body going on autopilot. You've done this so many times, you don't even have to think. You have the oven preheated and the pan greased, and your brain is already working on what kind of icing you want.

You push the cupcakes onto the oven rack, closing the door and setting the timer. It doesn't take long for them to bake, so you go ahead and gather the ingredients for your chocolate icing. Simple, yet delicious.

You hesitate, your skin crawling as you lean up from finding the chocolate powder. You look over just as the kitchen door opens, and you blink.

"What are you doing here?" You and Barnes both ask at the same time, looking startled. He looks incredibly uncomfortable almost immediately, and goes to take a step back.

"I, uh --- I couldn't sleep," he mutters, sniffing. "Are you baking?"

"Oh," you look down at the container in your hand. "Yeah. I'm making some cupcakes."

"Cupcakes?"

"Yes. The chefs here are too dry, and it's like eating crumbs. I'm making some of my own."

"Oh." Barnes hesitates. The pie from your shop had been great, he couldn't imagine how good your cupcakes could be.

"I'm not in your way, am I?" you ask, beginning your work on the icing. He's just standing in the doorway, looking at the mess you've made.

"No. I just came here for something to snack on."

"The chef is napping, I think. So you'll probably have to find something," you shrug your shoulders, looking down at your icing. Your hair is in a loose knot on the back of your head, revealing your neck and some of your shoulders. Your top is just a big t shirt, the apron strings making you have a waist in it.

"I'm used to finding what I want," Barnes says as he reluctantly enters the kitchen, inhaling the scent of baking. He finds his stomach is rumbling just from the smell, and now he's not sure any food is going to satisfy him.

He hears you muttering to yourself, a habit he's noticed. He glances over as he hears a cabinet open, and ducks hastily as a bag of sugar goes floating over his head. He blinks, turning to look as it opens, pouring its contents into a measuring cup near you. You're not even looking it, you're still mixing your icing together. He watches as the cup lifts, pouring its contents into your bowl.

He's never seen you use your power without your hands before.

The timer on the oven dings, and you look over, hesitating.

"I'll get it," Barnes offers, not wanting anything else to start floating by itself; it unnerves him, makes him think of ghosts. He steps to the oven, opening the door. He reaches in for the pan, hearing your indrawn breath as you start to tell him to stop --- only to realize he's bringing out the pan with his metal hand.

He sets the pan down on the cooling rack, and you frown.

"You could have used a pot holder."

"I didn't think it was necessary."

Ahuh.

You turn back to your icing, using your finger to run around the rim. You taste it, satisfied. You need to let the cupcakes cool off before you cover them, otherwise the icing will melt and run all over the place.

"Do you want to try?" you ask after a moment, watching Barnes look through the pantry for a snack. "The icing, I mean?"

You're not sure if he likes chocolate or not, but most normal people do. Besides, he's making you nervous, all his awkward movements. You're not sure why being in the same room as you unnerves him, it's not like you're going to toss him out a window or something.

Maybe it's because of your power, because of the fact you don't have to physically touch him to hurt him. You suppose it would make people uncomfortable, knowing you could lift them up and turn them upside down with just a thought.

Still, with all his companions, you'd think he wouldn't ---.

"Sure." Barnes turns, accepting the spoon you offer him. He hesitates, then brings it to his lips, tasting. Obviously you've not poisoned it, although the thought did cross your mind a time or two when it came to Stark.

The man just gets on your nerves.

So haughty.

"This is really good." Barnes blinks. The icing isn't thick, nor is it runny, creating the perfect texture. It's soft, and chocolatey, and he finds he's cleaning off the spoon.

"I know, I made it." you say, amused. You touch the cupcakes, finding they've cooled off enough, and you begin taking them out of the pan, the little wrappers around them making sure they don't stick. You begin icing them.

Barnes watches you, your careful movements, the calm look on your face as you work. You really enjoy what you're doing, it's obvious to him. He leans against the island behind him, crossing his arms.

"Can I... ask you something?" he asks finally.

"Sure."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I was hungry," you sigh, licking the bit of icing you get on your finger.

"No, I mean, here. At Stark tower. With everyone else."

"Because my home is in shambles and I can stay here rent free," you respond, the answer easy for you.

Barnes frowns. You keep answering his question, but you're not really answering it the way he wants.

He pushes away from the counter, stepping up to your side, seeing your shoulders tense slightly. He makes you uncomfortable, he can tell, which is generally why he keeps his distance. "Why are you fighting with us, when you so clearly don't want too?"

Oh wow, off immediately with the big questions.

You frown, your eyes on your cupcakes and not on him. "Because I don't have a choice. Rogers made sure of that."

"What did Steve do?" Barnes is a little more interested now. "I know he found you."

"Yeah, he did. And he ratted me out. I was living perfectly fine." your voice is a little sharp, and you add your icing onto the cupcake a little more forcefully then necessary, causing it to glop. "I had my bakery, and I was normal. I had a routine, I knew what to expect --- he managed to ruin all that for me."

"That wasn't his intention."

"Then he should have kept his mouth shut and left me alone," you snap, growing aggravated. You're bitter over the fact you're involved with the Avengers. You know you can't escape them, you're sure S.H.I.E.L.D. would hunt you down wherever you went. Plus, at least this way, you still get some normalcy in your day.

You're virtually invisible to the world still, they don't know your face, or that you even exist. You can go out and get a cup of coffee without being stared and whispered about.

You like being anonymous.

Barnes is silent, and you glance at him. You hope you didn't hurt his feelings with your tone, but you're definitely done with his line of questioning. You blame Rogers for getting you in this mess, and even if he apologized, you doubt you'll ever forgive him.

He never should have walked into your bakery.

"You want to lick the spoon?" you ask lightly, holding it up and offering it to Barnes, sort of as a peace offering. You don't want his feelings hurt, because oddly enough that would bother you. You don't mind being snarky to Stark and some of the others, because you know they didn't take it personally. With Barnes, you're not sure yet.

He doesn't immediately move, but then his real hand rises, accepting the spoon.

The icing is too good to give up.

You give him a half smile, then turn away, aligning your cupcakes. You nudge the bowl in his direction, letting him know he could have it too if he wanted.

Barnes takes the offering, taking the bowl and running the spoon along the lines of excess lines.

"So how long have you been a baker?" he asks after a moment, and you hesitate, thinking.

"I dunno. I've liked baking since I was a kid, and I started apprenticing when I turned sixteen. I only opened my own shop about five years ago."

"So you've had a lot of practice at perfecting this icing, huh?" Barnes pops the spoon into his mouth as you chuckle, nodding.

"Yes. I've had a while. Cupcake?" you offer him one, the icing in the shape of a flower on top. He takes it, watching as you unwrap your own. You lean against the counter beside him, delighted that the cupcake didn't immediately crumble when you bite into it. You relax, enjoying the sweet taste.

"What did you want to be?" you ask, since you're asking questions of each other. "Before you joined the army or whatever."

That's one way of putting it.

"I don't know." Barnes says after a moment, looking down. "I don't remember anymore."

You look at him, surprised. "You don't remember?"

"It was a long time ago."

Oh, right.

Looking at him, you forget that he was born over a hundred years ago.

"To be an old man, you've aged well. I don't see a wrinkle anywhere," you say, changing the subject. You try to lighten the mood, and give him a hesitant smile to show him you're teasing. "Not even a gray hair."

He almost smiles.

"Thanks. I think."

"Oh, yeah. Take it as a compliment," you nod your head, already on your third cupcake and starting to feel the sugar rush. You glance at the clock, seeing its getting close to four AM already. "I hope you didn't intend on going back to sleep tonight."

You gesture at the cupcake he still holds, just now finishing up the leftover icing.

"I didn't intend to anyway."

Oh really?

You look up at him curiously, but decide not to pry. You figure you've brought up enough bad memories for the night.

"So, what do you think of my cupcakes?"

"They're, uh, really good."He sits the bowl and spoon in the sink. "I can see why your bakery does so well."

"Thanks." You smile at the compliment, pleased. You've always been proud of your baking, it's one of your best talents. It calms you down, helps you think. "Maybe I'll bake one of my cakes one day and you can try it."

"Sounds good to me."

"What's your favorite kind?" you look up at him, relaxed.

He flushes. "Strawberry shortcake."

"Really?" you blink at him.

"Yes."

"Alright then. I'll make it for you."

"You don't have too."

"But I will anyway. I can't bake for money, so I guess I'll just... do it for fun again." you frown. "It'll be a while before I can do anything with my bakery, so I'll have to do something to pass the time."

"There's a lot to do around here." Barnes says, shrugging his shoulders. "There's a gym, and a movie theatre. Steve said there's a bowling alley around here somewhere, but I've not seen it. I don't usually explore."

"Wanda mentioned the bowling alley, so it must be real." you shrug your shoulders,  and lift your hand, deciding it's time to clean up a little bit. You dislike having a messy kitchen.

The flour and sugar both rise, going back to their respective cabinets, along with a few other items. The fridge opens, the milk gliding back to its spot.

"You don't have to use your hands, do you?"

"Huh?"

"For your powers. You can do it without thinking."

"Yes." You can, you just don't. "It's just easier with my hands, I guess. Helps me direct. My mind wanders sometimes, and then it just creates a catastrophe."

Like an exploding bowl of cake mix.

Half a bag of sugar in the sink.

Volatile lasagna.

"Thanks, for the other day," you say after a moment, turning away to go to the sink.

"What do you mean?"

"When they asked about the spaceship." you turn the water on, letting it fill the sink so you can wash the dishes. "You didn't mention me."

"Oh, it didn't seem like you wanted me too."

"That's what I mean. So thanks." you mumble, a little awkward. You're not much for thank you's, people don't usually do nice things for you.

"No problem. Although, I gotta admit, it was pretty badass."

You snort, shaking your head. "Not ---."

"Hey, it was. You literally took down some aliens. You deserve praise for that."

"I just... caught them off guard."

"That you did."

~~~~~~~~

"So? What do you think?"

"About what?"

"What Stark was saying."

"Oh. I don't know, sounds risky for your team."

"Our team, Bucky." Steve corrects his friend, both of them standing in his room.  "You're a part of this now, too."

It doesn't seem that way.

Bucky merely shrugs his shoulders, his hands in his pocket as he looks out over the city. He's tired, just like he always is. It's been a long week, especially with all the battles raging through the city.

"Do you think everyone will be up for so soon?" Steve is worried about his team, he knows they're all tired, especially those who had been out in the field. It was a miracle no one was injured when the aliens vaporized half the city.

"Most of them seem recovered." Bucky responds after a moment, his mind flicking to you. "They're getting back to their normal selves."

"I hope so. Natasha ---."

"Who do you want to go out with you?" Bucky interrupts Steve, glancing at his blonde friend. "On this mission? It'll have to be small, considering."

"I know. You, Stark, and Natasha. The four of us should ---."

"Why not (Y/L/N)?" Bucky asks, rather curious. You've proved yourself to be very trustworthy, and completely capable of taking care of yourself. Steve raises a brow at Bucky, surprised.

"You want her to come?"

"No. I'm just curious why you didn't chose her. Natasha doesn't have any abilities. Yes, she's an excellent assassin, but considering you're chasing down those with powers, shouldn't your team be the same way? The other girl is too young and inexperienced."

"Wanda, you mean."

"Yes."

"I dont know about (Y/L/N). I don't know if I can trust her or not."

"You'll never know if you never give her a chance."

"She hates me, Bucky. She'll let me go down the first chance she gets." Steve shakes his head.

"She's not a cruel person, Steve. She wouldn't let you die."

"I don't want to take that chance."

Bucky frowns, turning to look at Steve head on. "So you're saying she doesn't deserve an opportunity to prove herself, then?"

"I'm saying, I don't want her to take one of us down if our back is turned."

"You didn't seem to think that during the battle."

"We were all split up and we needed everyone."

"You were prepared to give me a second chance after all that I did, why are you so adamant against giving her one?" Bucky asks, defending you. He crosses his arms, staring down Captain America and making him squirm. "What do you know that I don't? Should I not trust her either?"

"No, I just --- if I were in her place, I would let me down." Steve finally admits, looking the slightest bit guilty. "I drug her into all this mess, I turned her life up side down. Her being here is my fault."

"So?"

"So, I can't trust her. She doesn't trust me."

"You might need to earn her trust then. Like you said, you brought her into this world." Bucky turns away, heading for the door. "You owe her a chance to find her footing in it."

"Where are you going?"

"I need some air."

Actually, he's just craving one of your cupcakes.

~~~~~

"What?" you gasp, horrified. You stare at Rogers like he's grown a fifth head, completely repulsed. "No!"

"Orders. We leave in the morning." Rogers informs you, his arms crossed over his white shirt. He still dressed like an old man, not quite into the newer clothing of the generation. You glower at him from your room door, your hand tightening around the knob.

"Whose?" you snap, intent on ripping them a new asshole. You just got settled, you don't want to go on another mission! You're sure one of the others would jump at the chance, you just want to be left alone!

"Just be ready to leave at dawn. You'll be briefed on the plane." Rogers is short with you, just like he always is. He's rude, and it wouldn't kill him to say please and thank you sometimes! You doubt you'd like him any better, but it would help! He turns on his heel, disappearing down the hallway.

Son of a bitch!

~~~~~~

You sit moodily on the jet, your arms crossed over your chest as you stare out the window. You're tired, you dislike early mornings, and you'd like nothing more then to punch old cap right in his pretty mouth.

With a truck.

You silently seethe, glaring at any and everyone who crosses your path.

Barnes is asleep on one of the sofas, laid on his back with an arm as a pillow. He has one foot on the floor, his metal hand resting on his chest as he snoozes. He looks almost peaceful, a few strands of his dark hair laying on his cheek.

Stark and Falcon are in another row of seats, talking to Rogers about what they're doing. There's something in a jungle somewhere across the world that Hydra is after, but you don't know what it is, you're not in the "in crowd."

"There's no need to sulk."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Your bad mood is keeping me awake."

You huff, sinking a little lower in your chair and not bothering to respond.

Barnes lips twitch, and he opens his eyes, looking over at you. You're dressed in your armor again, that bitchy look on your face that makes you look unapproachable. He hasn't mentioned he's the reason you're on the mission, and from your very negative reaction, he doubts he's going too. You already dislike Steve so much, he's hoping this mission will change your mind.

Steve is a great leader, and he cares about his people. Going on a mission with so few with hopefully change your mind about him, maybe even convince you to forgive him.

Maybe then Steve would forgive himself.

"It shouldn't be a hard mission, we're just scouting."

"Just scouting? Captain America isn't going anywhere just to look around."

You're feisty this morning.

Or whatever time it is now.

"True." Barnes pushes himself up, twisting until he's sitting with both legs on the floor. He's a little more comfortable with you now, so he's not acting as awkward as usual.

You'd broke the ice with your baking apparently.

"We're here," you hear someone call. "Everyone get ready!"

Oh great.

~~~~~~

The jungle is hot, and your skin crawls as you step off the plane, holding a bag of supplies over your shoulder. It's not supposed to be a long hike, you've been told, but you seriously doubt that; nothing seems to ever go to plan with these guys.

You rub at the back of your neck, your hair in a knot again. You kind of regret the black clothing, it's making the heat worse and already you're sweating. None of the others seemed bothered, you bet Stark even has air conditioning in his iron suit.

They could have at least given you a tiny fan.

How much longer do you have to keep walking, anyway!? You're walking in a single file, Stark in the front whacking the jungle out of the way. Barnes is behind you, making sure no one gets jumped, you suppose.

"How much farther is this place?" you finally huff, breaking the silence. Your feet are starting to hurt, and you rub your fingers, feeling them burn a little.

"We're not far off according to my GPS." Stark replies, his suit whirring slightly; you bet that was the air conditioning!

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"Now you sound like Wanda." he grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

You're not a jungle person.

There's so many sounds, all the animals enjoying their normal routine. The plants are thick, as are the vines hanging down from the tallest trees you've ever seen. It's disorienting, and you can just imagine a bug biting you and giving you some disease you've never heard of!

You sigh heavily, shuffling the bag hanging off your shoulder as all of you enter a clearing finally. You glance around, hoping there's not any snakes.

You hate snakes.

"We need to be careful from here on. We don't know if Hydra is there or not already." Rogers says after a moment, stopping to take a sip of water. You know he glances at you, obviously worried you're going to start banging pots and pans together to give away your location.

He doesn't trust you, and he's better off for it.

You don't trust him either.

You've never fought any Hydra, you just know they're the bad guys. They tortured Barnes and turned him into a killing machine, and for someone to do that --- well, they obviously have to be evil, right? Trying to take over the world and all the other typical villain mumbo jumbo.

"The temple is just ahead, we should get going." Stark sounds antsy.

Temple?

Like with mummies and curses?

You hesitate as everyone starts moving again. You really dont want to go running into some haunted temple in the middle of some forgotten jungle! That sounds like one of the worst ideas you've ever heard!

"Why are we even going to a temple?" you ask uneasily.

"To make sure Hydra doesn't get whatever's inside."

"You don't even know what it is!?"

"I didn't exactly stop and ask what they wanted." Stark snaps.

"Well maybe you should have! Do you know what temples have in them!?"

"Cobwebs?"

"No! Freaking curses, and haunted monkey statues!" you huff, having to watch your feet so you don't trip over the roots crawling across the jungle floor. "We could be waltzing right into a trap because you didn't do your homework!"

"And what am I supposed to do? Google it?"

"We probably would have been better off!"

Bucky snorts, hiding his smile hastily. You'll start a fight with just about anyone.

You're right behind Stark now, bickering back and forth with him relentlessly. You're giving him down the road and absolutely no mercy.

"She's got a mouth, doesn't she?" he murmurs to Steve, who nods his head in agreement.

"You got that right, man. Glad it's him and not me."

Bucky chuckles, unable to help himself.

You amuse him, you distract him from the bad thoughts that threaten to enter his mind. Talk about cursed statues and mummies have Stark cursing at you, telling you to shut up and go home if you're that afraid of a myth.

To which, you reply, that if he ever tells you to shut up again, you'll turn his iron suit into a tuna can.

You're making this mission much more interesting.

You abruptly go silent up ahead, and Bucky straightens, his eyes on the very same thing you see.

Steps.

They're halfway out of the ground, covered in greenery, and they lead into what looks like a cave entrance. It disappears into the ground, so Bucky isn't sure if its caved in or it just leads into hell.

"I am not going in there!" you hiss, your entire body tensing as you take a large step back.

"Then stand guard out here," Stark growls, his yellow and red suit reflecting the sunlight into your eyes, forcing you to look away. "Make sure no one follows us inside."

"Did you ever stop to think maybe Hydra is crouching in the bushes and letting you do all their dirty work? They'll just ambush us as soon as you come back with that cursed monkey!"

"Well, you'll stop them then, won't you? You won't let them take the monkey!"

"Like hell! I'm not risking my life for a monkey!"

Stark makes a frustrated sound, and you know he's glaring at you through his suit. "It's not even a monkey, and whatever it is isn't cursed!"

"You don't have to yell at me, you overgrown tuna can!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Stop being an asshole!"

"Enough with the squabbling," Rogers interrupts, shaking his head as he walks forward. "I'll take the lead, Stark you follow. Bucky, you stay out here with (Y/L/N) and have our back. We'll search what we can."

"You don't even know what you're searching for." you frown.

"I'm sure we'll figure it out." Rogers tells you calmly, your face already red. "Bucky?"

"I got this. Go on." Bucky nods his head.

You watch as Rogers and Stark disappear into the mouth of hell, shaking your head at their stupidity. You let your pack drop off your shoulders, and you sit down on one of the steps, stretching out your legs with a heavy sigh.

This is ridiculous.

"Why are we even out here? What could be so important in a condemned old cave?" you ask, frowning.

"Who knows? There's old power in this world." Barnes says simply, and you shake your head again.

"Why bother to go after it? It might be completely safe in there, and because they're going where they don't belong ---."

"They're just making sure it's safe. Trust me, if those two can get to it, someone else can as well. If Hydra already knows of its existence, then it doesn't stand a chance of staying in there. It's better Steve gets it." Barnes explains, rolling his shoulder.

"Why do you trust him so much?"

"Because he's always had my back. He believed in me when no one else did, and he never gave up on finding me." The answer is as simple as it is true. Steve had faith in Bucky when he didn't even have it in himself. "I'll always trust him."

"You make it sound so simple."

"He has a good heart, and good intentions. He cares about the people close to him, and he'll do anything to keep them safe."

Oddly enough, you believe that.

You don't respond, just lean back on your elbows and wait. Barnes stands at attention, and for the better part of an hour it's silent. It's a while before you hear any shuffling behind you. You and Barnes both straighten, turning to look as Rogers and Stark finally emerge from the cave.

"Did you find the evil monkey?" you ask curiously, but both men shake their head.

"No, the cave was empty. There was nothing but rubble. We were too late," Rogers mutters, disappointment and worry on his face. "They got here first."

"Did they get here first or was there nothing there to begin with?" you grumble, watching as they walk a little farther away, looking troubled.

What a waste of a trip.

Barnes offers you his hand, and after a moment you accept, letting him help you to your feet. You dust off your pants, and then reach for your pack, slinging it over your shoulder.

You go to take a step, but pause, your skin crawling all of a sudden.

"What is it?" Barnes asks, causing Stark and Rogers to both stop.

"Somethings --- someone is here," you mutter, glancing around the jungle undergrowth.

"What? How do you know?" Rogers demands, but you merely shake your head.

You know what you know.

You give it a moment, and then raise your hand. You hear a yelp as someone suddenly rises through the air out of the greenery. You narrow your gaze, curling your fingers and bringing him forward, letting him hover eight feet above the ground.

See.

You know your business.

"Hydra!" Rogers gasps, everyone suddenly tensing. "They're here!"

"How do you know that?" you throw Rogers question back at him, the man still struggling mid air with a frightened expression. "What could possibly give you that idea? The giant logo on his chest or the fact we shouldn't even be here!?"

"Now isn't the time," Rogers mutters at you, and you roll your eyes.

"Fine. What do you want me to do with him?" you sigh, twirling your finger and making him spin in the air. "Toss him into the haunted cave?"

"Don't hurt him ---."

You groan, and flick your wrist, sending the Hydra agent sailing through the air and back into the greenery. You hear him crash into something.

"Shouldn't we be going?" you inquire dryly.

No one bothers to answer you, you all just start forward, heading back for the small airport where your plane awaits.

The pace is quick, frantic really, and you find yourself lagging behind --- you can't keep up with them at all! Men and their long, buff legs!

You huff to keep up, but eventually you just stop, needing a break. Your lungs are burning, as are your legs, and you're pretty sure there's a stick in your shoe or something. You press your hands against your knees, heaving for breath and giving yourself a few moments.

You'll catch up with them in a few minutes.

It was only one agent, and it's not like he's going to be reporting in any time soon. If he was a scout, that means the rest of his friends have to be a good distance away, so you're not too worried.

You took down a spacecraft after all, what trouble can a few ambitious assholes be?

You feel your pocket buzz, and you blink, raising your head, hair falling into your eyes as you fumble your cell phone out of your back pocket.

Wow, you have service here??

You can see Stark's number blaze up on your phone, although his name reads Ego Ass. You reluctantly answer.

"Where the hell are you?" he demands instantly, before you can really get a word out.

"I'm coming, I just couldn't keep up with the rest of you," you grumble. "Your legs are longer then mine and it's a freaking jungle!"

"You can't fall behind,  (Y/L/N), you don't understand!" his voice sort of crackles, and you realize you must be losing service. You hope this call doesn't incur international charges or anything.

"I'm coming already, just give me a break!" you snap, tromping through the undergrowth. "It's not like --- EEEEE!"

You shriek as you're suddenly lifted off the ground, clutching your phone tightly in your hand as you're tossed upward. You flail, falling onto your back --- what the hell!?

You blink, your fingers curling around --- are you in a fucking net!?

Is this a net!?

Did you just --- literally walk into a trap!?

Irony.

Fucking irony.

You try to shuffle, but the open holes in the netting make it impossible for you to get your footing. You huff, aggravated as you fight it. It's not like you brought a knife with you!

You look up, looking at the rope threading above you. It's tied in heavy knots around the branch of a tree, way above your head.

"Stark!" you gasp, raising your phone back to your ear.

" (Y/L/N)!"

"I'm stuck!" you manage, starting to panic a little bit.

"What do you mean you're stuck!?"

"Like, I'm in a net! Who the hell puts a net in the middle of a path!?" you complain, swinging back and forth through the air in a sickening motion. "Get me out of this!"

"We're coming, don't have a panic attack. You should have stayed right behind us!"

"Well then next time fucking carry me!"

"You must be Zelena."

Eh?

You look down, peering at the bald man looking up at you, his hands calmly clasped behind his back. His men are filing all around him, black guns pointed up in your direction.

The bald guy is the bad guy?

"Zelena Jones, am I correct? Or do you prefer Margaret Hampton? Cora Holliwell?"

You grind your teeth in aggravation.

Okay, so you've had some fake names through the years. You were a foster kid, you learned that lying would get you more then honesty. You ran away from foster care when you were sixteen, called yourself Cora and got yourself a job at a bakery.

When you turned twenty, and were in about fifty grand worth of debt because of a crappy boyfriend, you disappeared and became Margaret Hampton. Then again, at around twenty-five, you faked that persons death, left the bakery you own to yourself, and became Zelena.

You like the name, it has a certain appeal to it.

Sure, it didn't matter, considering Coulson somehow still managed to track you down through the system and all your fake aliases to your birth name. Another reason you have to help the Avengers --- according to Coulson, it was help, or prison.

You can't bake in prison.

"Who the hell are you?" you demand, glad the net has stopped swinging, it was starting to make your stomach churn.

"My name is Johann." the man replies. "I am ---."

"An agent of Hydra, evil organization hell bent on taking over the world, am I correct?" you snap, aggravated. You're still holding your phone in your hand, so you hope Stark is managing to hear everything. "Get me the hell down from here!"

"That would be unwise on my behalf, wouldn't it? You're with the Avengers, so you must be have some impressive skills. I know they recruited you, Miss Jones."

You wish he wouldn't call you that, he'd totally ruin the name for you.

"Look, Mr. Bald Badass, I'm not that important. But I have a thing about swinging eighteen feet above the ground in a bag with holes," you grind your teeth, clutching at the rope. "So let me down or ---."

"Or what? Your friends will swoop in and save the day?" the man actually laughed. "They're currently preoccupied. I'm not even here for them, nor Mr. Barnes."

Bucky?

You cut your eyes downward.

Why would they even ---?

"Are you here for the cursed monkey statue or something?" you ask, managing to get to your knees without too much sway.

"There is nothing inside that temple, it was never our concern."

Oh.

"Then what is? C'mon, spill your evil villain plan." you taunt, tapping your fingers nervously. Are the others in trouble? What did this man mean? Why the hell do you always get caught up in these situations?

You feel sick.

"We just wanted to meet you." Bald McBadness says coolly, drawing your attention again. "You see, anyone the Avengers see worthy of their ranks, of course come under our watchful eye. You might fare better in our ranks then theirs."

You roll your eyes.

You're putting on a very good show, but you're absolutely terrified. You hadn't lied, you did have a thing about heights. Your palms were sweating, fingers clenched tight around the shreds of rope holding you in the air. You don't want to fall and hit the ground, and your stomach is starting to churn in a sickening manor.

You need to get down!

You find it difficult to believe Hydra created a whple fake scheme just so they could see you, and you find it even harder to believe they don't know about your powers. They do know, and without they'll be wanting some kind of demonstration.

Will they kidnap you, brainwash you like they did Bucky?

You know he suffered, and you don't want the same for yourself.

No, you're getting out of here!

One way or another.

"Would you like us to let you down?" you hear Baldy call, but you ignore him, instead looking up. You could probably climb, you reason, get to the top and power your way through the rope. It can't be too difficult, can it? As long as you don't look down, that is.

You hear Johann speak again, but you ignore him, wishing a monkey would fall on his head and claw his eyes out. You haven't really looked at him, looking down isn't exactly your priority.

Shit!

You shriek as you hear a pop, covering your head immediately. You hear your scream echo through the jungle, and you press your hands against your face, frightened.

Now they're shooting at you!

That's a wonderful way to end the bloody day!

"I hope that got your attention." Baldy says, and through your phone, you can hear Starks voice. You can't understand what he's saying, but you can hear him, so you suppose that counts. "You're quite the stubborn woman."

You've heard that before.

You keep your hands against your face, hunching as you curl up on yourself slightly. Yes, fetal position, try to be terrified. Really, you're peeping through your fingers, staring down through narrowed slits.

They've just pissed you off.

You're not going to be bullied!

Your eyes flicker, counting up to three men with guns. A few branches around their feet, a rotting tree behind them. They're all looking up, completely unaware of the sticks moving around their legs. You left them up, keeping them behind the men as you concentrate.

You give it a few seconds, staring at the rotting tree, struggling. You're a tad panicked, which makes it hard to control your powers. Still, you've been doing this too many years. Of course, you're more used to lifting small objects across the room, not fucking trees, but --- you can do it.

This is nothing.

A walk in the park.

You exhale heavily, and the rotting tree starts to move, lifting. It creaks a little, the dead vines hanging off of it tangling on other trees and making it more difficult. You just focus, your ears starting to buzz and rush.

Focus, focus, focus.

You chant the words in your head, and finally, the tree is free! The bald guy is too busy listening to his own voice to notice, and you doubt he ever sees it coming. The tree rams into all four of them from behind, sending them sailing forward. You make sure to drop the tree on top of them, just for good measure. It should be heavy enough to hold them down, too.

Now, about getting free.

You look up, unaware that you even drop your phone. You're not enjoying being trapped, and you can hear groans below you, meaning that the men are awake and probably really confused.

Okay, as long as they're down, you don't really care!

Your teeth dig into your lower lip, and you lean back on your legs, worried.

You're not really sure how to get out, and that makes you feel incredibly stupid.

Oh!

You grab the netting, staring through the trees as you see the sunlight reflect off something.

"Tin man!" you gasp. You've never been so happy to see him!

"Are you alright?" Stark demands, hovering just at the net, vines and leaves clinging to his supersuit. He couldn't very well fly through a jungle, that's what he'd told you earlier, but he must have changed his mind!

"Yes! Get me out of here!" you demand, hair straggling around your face.

"Just hold on," Stark tells you, rising higher in the air. You tilt your head back, watching as he grabs the netting at a certain point.

What is he doing?

"Stark," your voice is nervous.

"Don't worry," he tells you, which only makes you worry.

You cringe as he slices the ropes holding you above the ground, the net jerking. You squeeze your eyes shut, realizing that he's the only thing keeping you from dropping to a very painful death.

You're never going to live this down.

~~~~~~~~

As Stark sets the net on the ground, you dig your fingers into the earth --- you never want to go flying again! Especially not in a net behind him! You press your forehead against the ground, sucking in deep, shaky breathes as you try to calm yourself down.

That had been the most horrifying experience of your life!

Never again!

You're never leaving the city again!

You don't even like jungles!

"I hate all of you," you whimper, keeping your eyes closed. "So, so much."

"You're welcome," you hear Stark grumble, his helmet retracting to show his face.

Fuck him.

You wheeze, and slowly sit up, picking some leaves out of your hair.

You've never been shot at before, or strung up in a net, either.

You suppose there's a first time for everything.

"We need to get on the plane, quickly," Rogers sounds impatient. You crawl to your feet, wiping at your clothes. You turn, reaching back for your phone, seeing the screen is now cracked. You sigh as you stow it in your pocket.

Lovely.

"I  hope you intend on buying me a new phone," you mutter unappily, kicking the net off your feet. You step out of it, seeing Barnes worried look but ignoring it.

You get it, you messed up.

There's a first time for everything.

"Let's go," Stark urges, already heading for the plane. You and everyone else hurry after him, although this time you make sure to keep up. You stagger up the loading steps behind Barnes, rubbing at your skin, feeling like something is crawling on you.

You'll have to take ten showers to get the smell of jungle out of your hair.

You happen to glance behind you just as you step onto the plane, Rogers bringing up the rear. He doesn't see them coming out of the jungle, but you do. You hesitate, seeing one man raise a spear up, only thirty feet away.

You know he's aiming for Rogers, there's no one Hydra hates more then him, after all. For a moment, you freeze.

Rogers sees you hesitate, and his head starts to turn, but already its too late. The spear is moving, spiraling through the air at quite the impossible speed. You're not sure how the man managed to throw it so hard, or so accurately.

You could let the spear hit Rogers, you reckon. No one would know that you knew about it except for him, and he'd be dead with a stick in his back.

It would be the easiest thing in the world for you to just turn around and pretend you didn't see anything.

So easy.

Almost like....

Dammit to hell, you can't even do it.

You turn your head sharply, and the spear changes course, lifting just enough inches to go sailing harmlessly over the plane. Rogers looks up at you, his eyes widening, but you merely turn away.

You don't want his thanks.

You don't want anything from him.

Tags: @riegan, @miss-evil-one, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @1voice-behind-the-silnce, @lilmissmoony, @lizandbooks, @sophia-wyszkowski, @isaxhorror, @shayx5, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @iamwarrenspeace      @bigdaddyfairywinkle  @itstrashleydude

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #captain america #steve rogers #wanda #stark #tony stark #avengers #natasha #hawkeye #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #avengers fanfiction #james bucky barnes