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lovelyinconsistentices · 4 months

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°˖➴ 𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝚃 ⋆· ༘ *

‧₊˚ ꩜彡┆𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 .ᐟ

Ftm reader x Lucas Lee, fluff. Now that Scott is back, the show must go on. This time at the Rockit, a new band is introduced. Unlike Sex Bob-omb they have pretty good marketing, the posters plastered almost everywhere in Toronto. During a usual shift at second cup, a friend of Lucas's comes in for coffee and comes across a flyer on the board for the band along with that night's competition.

He suggests going out for drinks and checking it out, which soon has Lucas finding himself in the club of Rockit. Where he meets Scott and assumes he's another Scott but isn't, something that wasn't anything new as the two were known for getting mixed up at parties and things of the sort. After all the two had a couple things in common, with them both being the bass player for their bands. But Lucas finds himself drawn to the male, wanting to get to know him.

✎ᝰ.┆𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙴 .ᐟ

Lucas Lee X Ftm Reader, fluff.

Requested by an anon, I hope you enjoy it and I'm so sorry for the wait! <33

A sigh left your lips as you stood there, raising the beer bottle to your lips and taking a sip. You stood there tapping your foot against the floor, trying to calm your nerves. Your band was to be next, two bands after the one playing right now, compared to the opening band they were average. Nothing special but still people seemed to like them, their bass player was good or at least that's what you believed so you'd give that to them.

As for why you were standing here near the bar, trying to soothe any anxiety you had instead of making sure everything was ready with your band. You had needed a small break, something to distract you from all the overbearing thoughts that were filling your head. Which of course did become helpful in the end, just not the way you intended. As you listened to familiar faces or just random people who knew of you from parties speak to you about events or rumors they heard about "you", the first thing to ever leave some of their lips is usually the fact they thought you were dead.

Which truly confused you, when did you die? And that's when it hit you right there and then, they were getting you mixed with Scott Pilgrim. The loser who was dating or dated a highschooler, and the bass player of Sex Bob-omb who was coincidentally just now going on as you watched them move across the stage. Getting in their positions, this time an unfamiliar face following suit.

You sighed again as you questioned how anyone would get you mixed up with him unless they hadn't seen his face or knew his full name which was overall stupid, after all Scott was a pretty common name and it would be smart to get his last name but then again most of these people you met at parties so what did you expect. You truly found it irritating whenever you got mixed up with the male, it being slightly offensive as well. You did not date a highschooler and never would do anything so sick in the first place, you also did not die as you stood here now perfectly fine.

Which did make you wonder if he faked his death as he was now back, standing on the stage in one piece and alive as he played with Sex Bob-omb. The only reason you didn't confront people over this was because you were horrible when it came to socializing and there's the fact sometimes people would be messing around with you, and you wouldn't even realize. You also were overall just terrible with confrontation, leaving you to just respond with how they got the wrong Scott.

But that didn't matter now, setting the bottle down and taking a seat you pondered on ways to make your nervousness slowly dissipate as someone sat down next to you. "One beer, please." He beamed as he pulled his shades off, smirking at the bartender who immediately recognized him and got to grabbing the man a beer. Soon shifting to the side as his gaze trailed across the crowd and then settled on you, your eye's widened as his met yours.

This wasn't good, you were already dealing with anxiety and now you were sitting next to someone who didn't even look like he'd be found a club like Rockit, where they were now holding a competition for shitty bands to compete. Of course you knew better than to judge someone by their appearance, as who knows why he was here. And then there's the fact he could just have an eccentric taste, truthfully he looked like a Johnny Bravo wannabe but he was pulling it off at least.

But besides that fact, you felt intimidated by him and that just added onto you not being able to socialize well. As the male flashed a grin, "You don't have to stare at me like that, I know. I'm awesome." He stated as he took the beer from the man behind the counter. Picking up a pen as he immediately wrote his signature down on his recipet, then placing it down and handing you it. You were confused as your eyebrows furrowed, was he apart of a band perhaps?

You hadn't recognized any of the bands names on the list so it was hard to tell, if not then maybe some type of celebrity or something? But here in Rockit? Talk about strange, he did look like he could possibly be a model though. His tall and muscular build could easily be eye candy for a lot of people, so maybe he really was a model. It would make sense in a way with how he carried himself, you shook your head before finally asking the question that was plaguing your mind.

Taking the receipt as you spoke, "Sorry, who are you?" And just like that you were met with silence which you quietly panicked inside at. The man just peering down at you for a few minutes before repeating the question you had said out loud, "Who am I? Well, I'm the one and only Lucas Lee of course." His response didn't help you much but you knew you had heard the name before as you stared down at his signature on the receipt. You honestly didn't know what to say in return as you scrambled through your mind for an answer to where you had heard it from.

And that's when you were reminded of who he was, your eyes widening as you looked back up at the male. A famous actor, was he? You remembered your bandmate "Sookie" gushing about how he was now working at second cup, which was exactly where she had gotten his autograph. You had barely been paying attention as you watched her mouth move, that same glittery gloss she wore painting her lips. Seems his acting career was over because of some scandal you did not know of, or that's what you at least have memory of.

Your fingers loosely gripped the receipt as you nodded, about to say something before being interrupted by someone shouting your name. Two familiar figures were heading over to you, your eyes settling on them immediately as you questioned what they wanted. The two being Sookie and Mo, of course. Sookie had her hair tied up in a ponytail, the familiar black curls all bunched up. Her nails painted pink and that same glittery lip gloss she always wore on her lips, as she spoke out, her words were muffled by the bustling crowd around them.

Mo followed behind, his style never changing as he wore his regularly white button up shirt with some weird tie that matched his socks. Today's theme being, Garfield? Was that right? You couldn't tell really, as they moved through the crowd you waved them over. You were going to turn back to apologize to Lucas when a loud squeal was heard, you instantly recognized it as Sookie's as the two had finally made it over. Your eyebrows furrowing as you hoped you didn't have to deal with her fan-girling over the man while you stood there awkwardly, your nerves getting worse.

Her lips curved into a smile as she quickly made her way towards the two, settling right beside you. It was no lie that you loved Sookie but sometimes she could be too much for your own good, with her being a burst of joy and the talkative one of the bunch. While you tried to hide in the shadows because you were horrible with chatting and didn't understand social ques, which had made things pretty awkward at times. Causing you to get paranoid about how you appeared to certain people.

Sex Bob-omb was just now finishing their performance which soon led to a new band coming on stage, meaning Pocket Lint was next. That explaining why the two came out. Probably to make sure you were okay and didn't bale on them, which would be the least of their worries as Mo was always the one vanishing. It didn't matter much as he dealt with promoting and getting the bands name around, those flyers for Pocket Lint plastered all around Toronto being made by him after all.

He wasn't apart of their band anyways really as he had his own to deal with, him being new to Canada and American caught their guitarists attention. Then there was the fact he was apart of a semi-popular band which the male was having problems with, as you had heard all about him dipping on them during a show that Rockit held last week. Seems he was physically and mentally struggling with some things at the moment, as Sookie described how he had a whole new wardrobe and appearance switch. Wanting to change everything.

Arzhel their guitarist wanted to try and get him to join as he was his bands vocals, with Pocket Lint needing their own vocalist as Arzhel dealt with most of the singing and Sookie sticked to the drums while helping out with lyric writing. The three of you being tight knit together as you were their bass player, overall everything was pretty good and Mo helped quite a bit. So it was nice to have him around when needed.

You had just gotten another beer while you watched Sookie talk to the male, beaming about the band and other things. With Lucas soon ending it by giving her another autograph, this time signing her bag which filled her with excitement. Thank God it was just Lucas Lee out of all people, who knows what would've happened if you ran into Envy Adams. You'd have to hold her back from pouncing and bombarding the rockstar with questions, as well praise.

Of course that was a more dramatic reenactment of the situation but you wouldn't be surprised as Sookie absolutely adored the singer, which you truthfully found cute and it made everything easier as you knew exactly what to get when it came to presents. As you had gotten her Clash at demon's head latest album along with some other things you'd believe she liked for her last birthday, to say she was pleased would be an understatement.

As your face had blemishes on it, mainly because of the red lipstick that had beared her lips that night. The memory had brought a smile to your lips as you rolled your eyes, watching the woman finally make her way torwards Mo who seemed to be lost in conversation with a familiar face that you forgot the name of. Your eyes soon leaving the three as you glanced back at Lucas, who had just now asked you a question.

"You, have we met before?" You raised an eyebrow at his question, muttering a simple no as you pondered on why the two of you would've met which you then remembered he could possibly be talking about Scott Pilgrim. "I'm the other Scott, not Scott Pilgrim." He responded, his eyes meeting the male's eyes again. Watching as Lucas thought it over, nodding with a smirk. "Well other Scott, it's nice to meet you. I heard you're apart of a band?" He asked as he stood there.

He was interested in you, though of course that wasn't clear. He just found it amusing that you treated him as if he didn't use to be some famous star, the receipt you had from him now crumpled up and laying on the counter. You hadn't even realized you did that, just a regular occurrence of yours as you weren't the the type to keep receipts. You soon took another sip from the beer in hand, "Yeah," your lips parting as you stood there thinking of how to respond.

"We go on next, me and my band. Pocket Lint, we're pretty good. If you're not bored by the end you could come hang out, that's if you're interested. I'm sure Sookie would enjoy that." You wanted to say you would be happy to have him around for the night that way you could get to know him more but of course anxiety got the best of you, maybe come to an understanding as to why your drummer loved him so much besides well his looks.

You were fairly surprised that you had even managed to keep conversation with the male, perhaps the alcohol in your system pushed you a bit. Or Lucas just had an aura about him that made it easy to talk to him but even so you were still worrying about what he thought, after all he was a famous star in the past. You watched as the man grabbed a napkin, writing something down. Before holding it out, peering down at your hands to watch you take it before he brought his gaze back to your eyes.

"Definitely, I'll be there. Call me, won't ya?" He stated with a wink, your fingers brushed against his as you took the napkin while ignoring the playful wink he gave you. Reading his number over in your head as you stared down at it, you were careful as you put it in the bag hanging from your shoulder. Adjusting the strap before humming, "I should really get going, I don't want Arzhel yelling at me. I'll see you around though, later?" He questioned with a small smile which Lucas returned with "Of course." While waving you off as he ordered another beer.

Now here you and your band were stuck at Arzhel's house, Mo drunk, practically topless as his unbuttoned shirt hanged from his torso and wearing only his boxers along with it which were Garfield themed like the rest of his outfit. You were shocked to not find his bra to be Garfield themed at this point, talk about bold. But that's just how the male was, he even had a collection of converse's that were multiple colors. Wearing the black ones now, instead of his black oxfords. Which truly made the lasagna socks he had on pop, it sounded ridiculous and looked ridiculous in some people's eyes like Arzhel but hey it was a sense of style.

As for Arzhel he was currently picking up behind him, as he grabbed the familiar pair of black pin-striped pants off the floor of his living room. A cigarette dangling from his lips as he rolled his eyes, watching the other male empty a glass of red wine as he plopped down onto the couch next to Sookie. Her pulling his head against her body causing him to lean against her with a sigh as his gaze settled on you, he waved the glass at you with a smile which caused you to let out a sigh in response.

Pondering on if the male would be okay, since he had an argument with his bandmates, he had been sticking around when he could and if he wasn't then he was drinking or sleeping his problems away with some new random person he met at a party. Or at least trying to do so, the sound of Sookie humming as she ran her fingers through his hair with a smile was heard. You watched as Arzhel slowly made his way towards the two, peeling Mo's fingers away from the wine glass as he shut down his complaints with a soft hush.

The four of you were overall exhausted, it being an hour since you left Rockit with a drunk Mo. You had tried finding Lucas after your show but were swept away in the crowd, and in the end never found him, but you did have one thing. His number, you held the crumpled receipt and the napkin in your hand as you stared down at the numbers. Pondering on what to say if you called him, anxiety filling your chest as you listened to Arzhel ask Mo if he'd be staying the night which the male just scoffed and answered with an of course.

You then cursed under your breath before speaking, "Sorry, do y'all think y'all be able to take care of him without me? I have somewhere I want to be, if that's fine." Snookie smiled and nodded, not minding at all while Arzhel patted Mo on the shoulder as he rised. "Don't even have to ask, just don't go getting yourself into trouble and if you're drinking, get a friend. We'll take care of Mo, he'll be fine plus he's been staying at my place for a while anyways so I got him." He explained with a muffled tone as he moved, placing the clothes down on the coffee table before walking past you and nodding at you as he pulled the cigarette from his lips with an exhale.

Which you nodded in return, Sookie soon spoke as she glanced at you for a few minutes. "Have fun!" She winked, which caused you to raise an eyebrow but you shrugged it off. Making your way towards the front door, grabbing the coat off the rack and taking a step outside. Soon you had your phone in hand, pressing each button to dial in the actors number. Then bringing it to your ear as you walked, praying he'd pick up as you exhaled.

It didn't take long for someone to pick up on the other side of the line, you heard the familiar tone of Lucas's voice. "Hello, this is Lucas Lee speaking." Which earned a soft chuckle from you as you stopped in place, causing the male to speak again. "Other Scott?" He questioned, which caused you to picture him raising his eyebrow as he asked. "Yeah, it's me. Other Scott, or well just Scott," He pointed out as he started walking again, "I wanted to know if you're still up for hanging out, or is it too late?"

"No, not at all. I'm always ready for a party." A grin dancing on his lips as he joked, but you didn't catch it as you responded. "I meant alone but I could figure something out if you would prefer being around more people, my bandmates are resting so I might have to dig a bit online." You were soon met with his signature chuckle as you heard the sound of shuffling and digging through the phone, Lucas obviously doing something on the other side. "We can spend some time together, alone. Got a a place in mind?" His voice even thicker than how he had answered the phone at first, perhaps he had just been asleep before you called.

"There's a park, the one with that weird statue of some guy I forgot the name of. It's next to the skatepark if I remember." You soon trailed off as you pondered on the street name, soon telling him the location which caused Lucas to hum before speaking. "I'll be there, give me fifteen minutes. Nothing more, nothing less." It didn't take long before he hung up, you smiling as you fist pumped in your head. Glad that went well, as you relaxed. Your anxiety slowly dissipating, while you started walking at a faster place.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at the park, your hands fumbling with the receipt you still had as you tried to straighten it out as best as you could. Sitting on a bench as you waited for the man, the sound of wheels rolling against concrete soon reaching your ears. As you raised your head, you were met with the familiar figure of Lucas, this time wearing his leather jacket. His skateboard emitted a grinding noise as it grounded to a halt, the wheels scraping against the pavement.

Soon propelling the skateboard upward and effortlessly catching it in his hand, his eyes fixating on you as he moved torwards the bench and took a seat next to you. "So, come here often?" He wondered as his eyes fell on your face, his breathing releasing a visible puff of air from his lips. Then dissipating into the cold atmosphere, you nodded as you watched his lips. Something you had grown used to, always watching everyone's lips move as they spoke.

"I guess, I usually just come when I need a break or some fresh air. It's the perfect place to relax at night after a long day." You explained to him as you fidgeted with your fingers, glancing away every few minutes before focusing on his lips again as he started talking. "I see, it is quite nice. Peaceful even." His eyes not leaving you once as he watched your expression and body language, his eyes soon settling on the receipt that he didn't even notice you took after leaving the bar.

For some reason it made him feel warm, something so small but significant in a way. Even though you didn't know of him that much or minded him being an actor you still seemed to care, it was sweet in a way. His gaze followed your fingers as you blowed at them, trying to warm them up. You soon glancing at the male with an eyebrow raised, your lips parting as you pondered what had him so lost in thought.

What he said next really shocked you in a way, as you stared at him. "If you let me, I could help keep your hands warm." He uttered out loud, surprising himself even but it wasn't notable with his expression being blank. You wondered what he meant by that as you sat there, holding your hands out with a nod. Watching as he took hold of your hands, covering yours with his and bringing them to his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Gently blowing at them, his eyebrows furrowing as he focused.

Your eyes widened at the gesture, it did help in a way but also caused a bubble of nerves to rise. But not the bad kind, more like butterflies in your stomach. You felt warm, you couldn't focus on his eyes or lips anymore. Just staring at your fingers as you thought of what to say, letting out a heavy breath. This wasn't what you expected for the night as you sat there, watching him closely. "Is that helping?" He asked as his eyes met yours making your breath get caught in your throat, making it even more difficult to say anything.

It took a minute before you could say anything, not being able to peel your eyes away from his. "Yeah, it is." You muttered, your voice coming out gravelly. You didn't pull your hands away and he didn't let go as his focus went back to your hands, continuing to gently blow at them. Silence filling the air as you both had sat there together, you savoring the moment of subtle intimacy as you acknowledged the way he squeezed your hands every couple minutes. If this was how you were to end your night, you didn't mind at all. If anything enjoying it.

Once done he lowered your hands but kept his fingers intertwined with them and truthfully you didn't want to pull your hands away, finding it comforting. As you leaned back against the bench, relaxing with a sigh of relief. Your gaze settling on the sky, it seems you'd be here for a bit and you didn't mind it all. Basking in the silence and the moment, he was right about it being peaceful but it was even better now that you had someone with you.

#Spotify #scott pilgram takes off #scott pilgrim vs the world #lucas lee x reader #lucas lee

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

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Pink Lace - Chapter 2

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banan @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt

Masterlist

“God I’m so fucking sick of this semester and it hasn’t even started yet.” You complained, lying on your roommates bed flipping through one of your textbooks for the upcoming semester.

“Relax, at least you have money and you’re smart y/n, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re an arts major, not an architecture student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing! It’s just different!”

“Mhm sure I’d love to see you paint a landscape or sculpt something.”

You gave your best friend a dirty look before focusing your attention back to the textbook.

Mia had been your best friend since 2nd grade and she had lived with you since you were 18. She had always been the more artistic one, doing dance from a young age and taking all sorts of art classes whenever she could. Her overall view on life was quite different from yours. She saw the world through the lens of an artist, and an optimist.

Her views on relationships were very different from yours as well, with quite the laundry list of exes, each one more thrilling than the last. You honestly loved hearing all her stories and found it impressive how well she seemed to have the dating game figured out. You on the other hand, could count the men you’d slept with on one hand, and aren’t one for parties or anything like that, preferring to stay home and study or watch a drama.

With your dislike for parties and dating apps, you stayed pretty single. Not that you minded, being too swamped with schoolwork to make time for a real boyfriend anyway. Sometimes you thought about going out to parties and trying to find yourself a hookup but you never followed through, not wanting that kind of intimacy with a stranger.

“Did you see Baekhyun again last night?” She asked casually, knowing all about your work. Although for her, asking if he was there really meant ‘are you going to buy me my lunches again this week’.

“Yeah...” You contemplated for a second if you should tell her, but you quickly decided to just say it, not wanting to keep things from your best friend. “I told him my name. Like my real name.”

Her eyes went wide, definitely surprised by your confession. “Wait seriously? Why?”

“He asked and I just couldn’t tell him no.” You replied, much quieter now.

“Well it’s your choice but that really wasn’t a good idea, he’s already way too into you and now he’s just gonna think he actually has a shot with you.”

“Yeah I know I just.. I can’t explain it but it felt different.”

“He’s just another pervy dude who wants tits in his face! There’s a reason he pays you.”

“He’s not a perv! He’s still a guy of course, but he’s sweet.” You felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quick you were to defend him.

“All that matters about this guy is that he gives you nearly a thousand dollars every night he sees you, right?” You nodded. “You don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to pay you anymore do you?”

You stayed quiet, because you knew she was right. This was the nature of your relationship with Baekhyun, and straying from what you had with him now just meant opening yourself up to the possibility of losing a lot of money, money you needed.

You were kind of surprised by how opposite you and Mia seemed to be in this situation. Usually it was you talking to her about boys, telling her not to make reckless decisions.

“Yeah you’re right. I’m gonna go to bed. I have classes starting pretty early tomorrow.” You told her as you left her room for yours.

You needed to sleep, but your conversation with her left you with the same uneasy feeling you’d had after last seeing Baekhyun. The longer you stared at your ceiling, the more you felt like you did the right thing telling him your name. He really liked you and it probably made his day, and you knew he wouldn’t use it against you in any way. He was too nice for that. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

The first few classes of the day had gone okay. Your physics and statics professors didn’t seem like complete assholes, and you only had one class left for the day, philosophy. Part of you was annoyed you even needed to take the class, since you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a very “deep” person, but you figured it would be easy enough.

Being the good student you are, you decided to get there early to get a seat close to the front to make a good impression on the professor. When you arrived the previous class hadn’t finished yet, so you sat down on a bench nearby and opened a book.

“Hey, are you waiting for philosophy class too?”

You looked up to see a rather cute boy, books in hand, looking down at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, do I know you?”

“I’m Lucas.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, so you do and he sits down next to you. “Are you a philosophy major?”

“No, architecture. And I’m y/n.”

“Damn you must be really smart then! I’m a business major.”

“You also just have to take this for the humanities credit?”

“Yeah, but I’m excited, the professor seems cool I met him earlier today.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Super cool and smart, kind of young, but like a genius.”

“Yeah well hopefully he’s nice too. Especially with grading”

Lucas laughed and you noticed the previous class leaving the lecture hall so you got up and made your way in, sitting down in the second row, Lucas sitting down next to you. The professor hadn’t showed up yet so you turned to Lucas again, making small talk to pass the time. As you talked to him you realized he was actually fairly funny, although not the smartest. You had to admit though, he was pretty damn handsome. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, with beautifully tanned skin and a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees.

“Are you going to any parties this weekend? I’m going to one at my buddies frat Friday night if you wanna be my date.”

You frowned “Sorry, I don’t really do parties.”

You could see the disappointment on his face. “Damn really? Well if ever change your mind you can text me.” He said as he scribbled something down and slid a piece of paper with his number on it across the table to you.

You internally cringed, but took the paper anyway and give him a small thank you. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t do parties, but you still felt bad shooting him down, especially since he was actually pretty cute. That was the problem with you and dating in college. No matter how cute a guy was, what they wanted and what you wanted rarely added up well.

You’d bought your textbook already so you decide to get back to looking through it before class started. You also just wanted an excuse to stop talking to Lucas. You got lost in the book, finding yourself surprisingly interested in different moral theories and types of ethical arguments.

“Ahem.”

You heard who you assumed to be your professor and looked up, not expecting to see Baekhyun of all people smirking back at you. Fucking smirking.

You almost choked on air when you realized who you were looking at. Not only was it Baekhyun of all people standing in front of you, but he was wearing a fitted white button down and slacks with his hair styled out of his face, and glasses abandoned on his podium. He looked hot. You felt your face getting warmer and warmer.

“Hey you ok?” Lucas asked, having seen your reaction to Professor Byun.

“What? Yeah I’m totally fine why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, too loudly. Loudly enough that Baekhyun noticed. And laughed.

“Do you guys know each other or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him while giving Baekhyun your best version of a death stare, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Hello everyone I’m Mr. Byun, I’ll be your philosophies of life professor.” He said, starting the lecture with a fairly neutral look on his face, although you noticed him looking in your direction often, and smiling.

You had to admit, he was smart. Not that you were particularly surprised, he seemed fairly intelligent from the conversations you’d had with him at work, but granted those weren’t always the most intellectual conversations either. The way he explained what you had read in the book was both interesting and informative, but you couldn’t focus on him talk about Socrates when just two days earlier you had been grinding on him, and had even let him touch you. Especially when he looked like that now. Your whole body felt hot and you knew you were probably as red as a tomato.

You tried your best to focus on what he was saying for the sake of your grade, but he wasn’t making it easier by the way he kept looking in your direction with that smile on his face. Now, often looking you directly in the eyes with the same intensity from the club. Only this time, while sounding incredibly, frustratingly, smart.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t focus. Not when you had to process the fact that Baekhyun was now your college professor, and knew way more about you and your life than you ever wanted him to. You were hit with the realization that he now also knew you’d lied to him about nearly everything.

You became painfully aware of how you looked compared to him. While he looked exquisite in his business-casual attire, you had barely rolled out of bed in time to throw your hair up in a messy top knot and apply some mascara. Your hoodie and leggings combo wasn’t your best either, and you started feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

Every other time Baekhyun had seen you, you had been dressed in expensive lingerie with your hair and makeup done perfectly. You had always been the one in control of the situation. Now, you only felt small and underdressed.

After what felt like hours he finally ended the lecture. But he wasn’t done yet, not with you at least. And you could tell by the way he was staring at you, smile now gone and replaced with a much more serious expression. As soon as he dismissed everyone to leave, you frantically started shoving your things in your bag, trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible but your hands were shaking so badly that you ended up fumbling and dropping most of what you’d been holding.

“Shit, shit, shit” you whispered to yourself as you desperately reached for your belongings, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but it was too late and right after you saw the last student leave the lecture hall, you heard your name.

“Y/n come here.”

Not really having the option to say no, you walked up to him, trying to look as annoyed as possible.

“You look cute like this, without the heels and everything. I like it.” He said, now smiling down at you. Despite the mocking feeling of the statement, his face was soft now, the smug smirk from earlier gone.

Baekhyun was absolutely thrilled. The girl he usually looked forward to seeing all week long was right in front of him now, within reach. And he’d get to you see you much more now as well. He had to keep himself from looking too happy since he knew you weren’t in nearly as good a mood as him.

You’d never wanted to disappear as badly as you did in that moment. Here, Baekhyun was the one with all the power, and you despised it. He was the one all dressed up and making all the rules. You felt small and embarrassed, having little choice but to listen to whatever it is was he had to say to you. You hated the feeling.

“What do you want?”

“You lied to me.” His face didn’t look angry at all, just blank, void of any emotion.

“Why are you making me do this can I please just leave?” You asked, hoping he’d have some sympathy but you have no such luck.

No answer

“Baekhyun, please. Just let me go home and switch into a different section.” You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.

His face hardened, now slightly annoyed.

“Professor Byun, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me y/n. I’m the only one teaching this class this semester.”

“Well, fuck” You muttered, looking down at the floor.

“Is that how you speak to your professors?”

Your head snapped back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You know, y/n, I’m not mad that you lied to me. I should’ve assumed as much. After you told me your name and I saw it on the attendance sheet I had been hoping you’d been lying.” He still looked annoyed, but his face had softened a bit.

“Oh fuck off Baekhyun”

Immediately his expression went sour again, jaw clenched and brown furrowed.

“Here it’s Mr. Byun. And don’t use that language with me again, I’m serious.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t know you’d be here. It was just yesterday that I even realized your name was on my roll sheet.”

He had a point. He couldn’t have planned this, you’d signed up for the class months ago and he didn’t even know your name until two nights ago.

“Why aren’t you freaking out then? Shouldn’t you be worried about having me in your class?”

He only let out a chuckle.

“Why would I be worried? As far as I’m concerned this only means I get to see you more often, which I’m fine with. And you need to pass this class to graduate on time, so shouldn’t you be glad you’re already friends with your professor?”

You knew it wasn’t what he intended, but the smile on his face felt like it was mocking you.

“Yeah. Friends.” You scoffed. “Can I go home now?”

“So this is your last class of the day?”

You internally cursed yourself for giving up that bit of information.

“Yeah. Now can I leave?”

“Well you’re not in a hurry are you? Since you don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

“Baekhyuuun” you whined “please, this sucks, just let me go home.”

He smiled, seemingly amused by you begging him.

“Okay. I’m not gonna make you stay any longer since you obviously don’t want to. But let me make it clear, I’m not gonna go easy on you here just because I like you. You still have to try.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You reply, picking your bag up to leave, wondering what exactly he meant by like you.

“I’m really looking forward to reading your essays by the way.”

He flashed you a smile as you finally turned to leave, and you hated yourself for not doing a better job at looking mad. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a damn beautiful smile.

“See you on Wednesday!” He shouted after you as you left the room. You didn’t respond.

When you arrived back at your apartment your mind started to fill with panicked thoughts. He wouldn’t come to the club anymore now would he? That meant having to try to mingle with strangers again, something you hated about your work. It also meant less money. It’s not often that customers bought hour long dances.

And what if he did show up again? How would you even act around him? Part of you wanted him to for the easy money, but you just couldn’t imagine grinding on your professor. Your face heated up just at the thought, especially since you knew he could look that good now. Would you even be able to give him a lap dance without losing your own mind?

You had trouble processing the fact that this was even able to happen. You’d never thought to ask Baekhyun for his last name, and since it had been summer break he didn’t mention his job. The whole situation seemed bizarre.

And what about class? Will he make it more difficult if he doesn’t get what he wants?

No. Baekhyun isn’t like that, you tell yourself. As much as you disliked having him in a position of power over you, you’d gotten to know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abuse it.

The more you’d gotten to know him the more you liked spending time with him rather than other customers, regardless of the money. And for good reason. The longer you knew Baekhyun, the more you realized he wasn’t like the other guys who came to the club. You could tell he was good, decent guy.

He was always there to see you, and only you. You had several other regulars, but none of them had any qualms about talking to and getting dances from other girls. Not that you minded, but you’d never seen Baekhyun even speak to another dancer.

He’s also just nice. The kind of nice that you don’t see in people often anymore. He was always incredibly respectful and would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Very few of the guys you came in contact with cared at all if they made you uncomfortable. They’d just assume that’s a part of the job for you.

Baekhyun was actually interesting to talk to as well. Since you’d met him at the beginning of summer, he usually told you about adventures he went on with his friends, most of whom you knew from the night they’d dragged him into the club.

They were a genuinely cool group of people. The one he was closest with, Chanyeol, was a music producer, another named Kyungsoo was an up and coming actor, and the one who’d introduced himself as Jongin was a professional dancer. Chanyeol had been the one to come with the idea of taking Baekhyun to the club in the first place.

Baekhyun would tell you anecdotes from nights out he’d had with them during college, as well as other wild stories and you’d often find yourself laughing and smiling so hard your face hurt. Ever since your first night with him, you noticed how good he was at making the people around him feel at ease. He always knew what to say and when to make people laugh.

Baekhyun was different from the other men at work because you liked being around him. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. If you’d met him anywhere else, and he wasn’t your professor, you’d probably be more than willing to go on a date with him.

But unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

You tore yourself out of your thoughts and realized how late it had gotten. Although it was only the first day, you already had homework you needed to start on. You spent the rest of the evening trying to be productive, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. How good he had looked, how attractive he sounded giving the lecture, how he wouldn’t stop looking at you.

He was going to be much more present in your life now, whether you liked it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday morning Baekhyun felt stupid for how excited he was to see you. He’d decided to get up early to work some exercise into his day, and hopefully clear his mind, but even as he took a shower and started getting ready to leave for work, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d decided to wear something a bit more casual and stylish, opting for a new pair of glasses, striped red t shirt, and cream slacks. He tried to make other excuses for why he wanted to look nice but in the back of his mind, he knew he wore it because he wanted to look good in front of you.

During the class before yours he noticed a female student in the first row chewing on the back of her pencil as she very intentionally leaned over her desk to grab a pen, putting her cleavage on display to him.

He only rolled his eyes, but he was pleased to see that his outfit was getting good reactions. He just hoped you’d like it.

When the class before yours left, Baekhyun felt his heart rate go up. What if you’d found a way to get out of his class? Would you even show up? Or if you did, would you just end up sitting as far from him as possible?

Usually he’d leave to go get a coffee during his break between giving lectures, but today he stayed in case you came early again. As the minutes went by students started to fill the lecture hall. Baekhyun couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the door every time he heard it open, but he just kept seeing everyone but you.

A minute before class started, you walked in and sat down in the second to last row.

Baekhyun felt his face light up as soon as saw you, only to immediately turn into a frown when he saw where you chose to sit down. It was as he’d suspected, you wanted to be as far away from his as possible. But at least you were there.

As Baekhyun started the lecture, he couldn’t help looking in your direction every few seconds. Even though you were in casual clothes without any fancy hairstyle or makeup, this was the version of you Baekhyun loved seeing the most. He was used to the perfected product you presented yourself as at your job, and he knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. You in leggings and a t shirt, your hair messily falling over your shoulders as you scribbled down notes. He could watch you like this all day. He noticed how your brows would furrow in confusion whenever he’d bring up a new concept, and how you chewed on your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Ever since he’d seen you like this on Monday, he couldn’t get enough. It was you, the real you.

He also noticed how you seemed to look everywhere in the room except for at him. You spent as much time as possible with your head down taking notes, even when there wasn’t much to write down. Other times your eyes would stay glued to the power point slides, or wander around the walls and ceilings. He understood why you weren’t exactly comfortable looking at him.

Despite being on the other side of the room, he was still able to pick up on little things. He noticed your leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the desk, and how much you would fidget when you weren’t writing notes.

He knew you were uncomfortable, and he hated it. He hated himself for being the reason. He wished there was something he could do or say that would make you enjoy being in his class more. Anything that would make you feel more at ease with him in this situation. If he wasn’t the only one teaching the class he wouldn’t have minded if you’d switched to a different professor, if it meant you were more comfortable. Of course he would’ve missed seeing you, but he also knew that was a selfish thought. He felt guilty that you had to be there and be uncomfortable because of him.

At the end of the lecture he gave the class their first proper assignment, a short essay analyzing Plato's “The Ring of Gyges”. It was an assignment he always gave at the very beginning of the semester, since it was a quite difficult read and gave him a good idea of how everyone would do in the class.

He was especially excited to see how you would do.

When class ended, you were the first one to leave and this time he didn’t stop you. He knew you wanted to leave and didn’t want to bother you again, still feeling slightly sorry for how late he’d kept you the first day. He’d only done it to try to reassure you about having him as your professor, but he hadn’t been expecting you to be as distressed about it as you were. In hindsight he realized he’d probably only made things more stressful for you.

Once the room was empty aside from him he packed up his things and left as well, hoping that you could become less anxious over time, and eventually, maybe even enjoy being in his class.

For now though, class had not been something for you to look forward to at all. You’d been dreading it ever since Monday afternoon.

That morning as you were getting ready, you tried to make yourself look a bit more presentable than you’d looked Monday, not wanting to live through the embarrassment of seeing Baekhyun look so nice while you were basically wearing pajamas again.

For the first half of your day you threw yourself into your other class work, successfully taking him off your mind for a while, but when your physics class ended and your next class was with him you felt yourself starting to panic.

You thought about skipping class, but you cared too much about your grade. You decided your best choice was to just get there as late as possible and sit as close to the door as you could so he wouldn’t be able to get you to stay after class again.

As you walked across campus you felt yourself get more and more nervous. Despite being there 20 minutes early and the room being open to sit down in, you sat down outside. As the minutes drew closer to class starting you felt your heart start to race and had trouble controlling your breathing. One minute before class was to start you got up, walked over to the door, and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit. You pushed open the door with shaky hands, and the second you could see into the room you notice Baekhyun's eyes on you, and his beautiful smile. You quickly looked down and hurried to the closest available seat in the back of the room, cringing at yourself.

As much as you wished you could, you couldn’t just ignore Baekhyun. He was the professor, you had to listen to him. But you had a hard time doing anything when he looked like he did. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and he was wearing different glasses now too. He looked even better than he had on Monday. Had it not been for you already knowing him, you probably would’ve found him distracting for different reasons. You did everything you could not to look at him directly, knowing he’d catch you and see you blush. But who wouldn’t blush if he was staring at them while looking like that? You could tell some of the other girls in the class liked his outfit as well by the way they whispered to each other while shooting glances his way.

You wondered if maybe this was something he did often, if he liked starting things with students. If maybe his whole nice guy persona was fake and he really was just another scumbag.

But you soon realized that was just the bitterness speaking. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but the thought of other girls trying to seduce him was bothering you. Baekhyun wasn’t a scumbag, not when he’d dedicated his life to teaching people about ethical issues and moral arguments.

As the class went on you couldn’t help but fidget and shift around in your seat. Even though you were avoiding looking at him, you knew his eyes were on you for much of the lecture. You’d figured it would be like this.

As it got closer and closer to the end of class you felt yourself get more and more panicked at the thought of him keeping you after again. You didn’t know what he could possibly keep you after for, but you didn’t want to stick around and find out, so as soon as he dismissed the class you nearly ran out without looking back.

“Hey, y/n!”

The sound of your name nearly gave you a heart attack, thinking it was Baekhyun who was going to force you to talk to him like this again but when you saw Lucas waving at you, you let out a relieved sigh.

“Hi Lucas.”

“I thought you’d come sit by me again today what happened?” He asked.

“Sorry about that, I was almost late today so I didn’t want to walk out there in front of the whole class” you said, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie.

“Well I hope next time you’ll sit with me again.”

You managed to give him a small smile and nod, still a bit too frazzled over everything to want to talk to him.

“I have to get home, but I’ll se you Friday. Bye Lucas.” You waved at him as you went in the opposite direction.

You felt bad for not talking to him any longer, but you just weren’t in the right headspace.

On your walk home you felt weird. Had it really been that bad? Or were you just overreacting? Although he did look at you a lot Baekhyun seemed to teach the class as if everything was normal, more or less unaffected by your presence. He hadn’t seemed to mind your leaving either. Maybe he’d hadn’t planned to make you stay again. Maybe, it seemed, he was going to leave you be.

You knew Lucas would bother you about it if you didn’t sit with him again next time, but would you be okay to sit that close to the front again? Or even worse what if Lucas caught on that there was something going on between you and Baekhyun? He’d already seemed suspicious on the first day.

You decided your best course of action was to just do it and tough it out. All you needed to do was act like you did in all your other classes and everything would be fine right?

First however, you had to go home and face your roommate and tell her about this nightmare, having bottled it up until now. You weren’t exactly sure why you hadn’t told her right away. Maybe you felt strange about it since she had already told you you needed to keep him from getting any closer to you. Obviously that wasn’t going to be easy now.

As soon as you got home and put your things away you knocked on her door.

“YEAH?” You heard her yell through the door.

“Can I come in?”

“One second!”

A little while later the door opened.

“What’s up?”

“Can we have a girls night? I have some shit I need to tell you.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Mia look so excited.

“You?? Have tea for ME??? Fuck yes!”

You thought about it, and this was pretty rare. 90% of the time she was the one unloading her boy problems on you, or any other kind of drama too for that matter. Not that you minded, that was just the dynamic you had gotten used to.

“Wanna order some food and put on a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.”

Your food eventually arrived and you put on a chick flick you’ve both seen a thousand times.

“So?? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” She asked turning to you, obviously looking forward to whatever you were about to fill her in on.

You sighed.

“So my philosophy professor this semester...” You swallowed, now having trouble getting yourself to say it.

“I know this sounds fucking insane but, Baekhyun’s my philosophy professor.”

The look on her face told you everything you need to know. The two of you had known each other for so long that words weren’t needed.

“I don’t know how it happened either. I signed up for the class forever ago anyway, before I even met him at the club. Just a bizarre coincidence. And he’s the only one teaching it and I need the credit to graduate so I'm stuck.”

“Shit dude.”

“Yeah I know. He kept me after class Monday and it was a fucking nightmare.”

“What did he say?”

“Basically just that I’m stuck with him. He also called me out for lying about what university I go to at work. And he said he liked me better ‘like this’ whatever the hell that means”

“He’s like obsessed with you isn’t he? He’s probably over the moon that he has a way into your personal life now which really fucking sucks for you.” She had a point. “Do you think he’ll still come see you at work?”

“I honestly really don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Be careful, y/n. A customer having a crush on you is one thing but having him in charge of your grade is another. What if he starts trying to make moves on you and you shoot him down? He could fuck up your GPA just to get back at you or something.”

“No.” You responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No, Baekhyun isn’t like that. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t think he’ll try anything anyway.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure of course but he’s also a lot older than us and this is his job, I can’t see him risking his livelihood just for me.”

“He’s a college professor who’s giving you a thousand dollars a week, how does he even have that kind of money anyway? No way he gets paid enough as a professor to be giving you that much. He either has some other source of income or you’re already making him broke.”

You felt stupid for not having considered that yet. How the hell was he giving you so much? She was right, unless he was secretly rich or something there was no way he could afford to give you so much money every week without fucking himself over. Your stomach started to churn with the idea of him possibly even putting himself in debt just for your Saturday nights together. He couldn’t be that stupid right?

She could tell how much the conversation was stressing you out at that point.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing your hand “you just need to get through the semester. You can handle 16 weeks, class with him will get less awkward, and hopefully he’s at least smart enough not to come see you at work anymore now.”

The thought of him not coming anymore wasn’t a good one either though. You made much more money when he was there, and in under 2 hours. Staying at the club until 3am with school going on now, only to take home less money wasn’t really a good option either.

“I don’t wanna see him there but I need his money.”

“You’ll find some other guy who’s rich and in love with you soon enough, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.” She said, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah..”

You knew she was just trying to make you feel better, but realistically you weren’t going to find another guy like Baekhyun at work, Even if someone came along who gave you as much money as he did, they wouldn’t be as fun to talk to, or as respectful as him. Guys like that just don’t come to strip clubs. You still didn’t even fully understand why he did.

“Just think of him as another one of your professors. It might be tough at first, but I think if you can do that you’ll be okay.”

“You’re right, I just need to get my shit together and not let him distract me.”

“See? Of course I’m right.” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Eventually the movie ended, and by then it was late enough for the two of you to get ready for bed.

Talking to your best friend about it had made you feel slightly better. At least whatever happened, she would be there for you to talk it out with. Baekhyun wasn’t a bad person or anything either, it was just the situation that was stressing you out. As long as you could get ahold of yourself enough to focus on his lectures and do well in the class, you’d be fine.

You kept reassuring yourself as you closed your eyes, and for the first night that week you didn’t stare at your ceiling for hours worrying, you went right to sleep.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut #baekhyun fic #exo fic

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Banana Ice-Cream with Chocolate Chips

Just another lil Christopher centric fic I wrote 🙂

Read on AO3.

Chris is seated on his bed, a book in his hand. It’s already 10 and it’s way past his bedtime but he’s not sleepy so he thought he could continue the book Buck bought for him a few days ago. It’s a book about Ancient Egypt and it’s fascinating. There is a part about the Pyramids and Christopher really wants to finish it tonight so he can talk about it with Buck tomorrow night.

He’s coming for their usual Friday movie nights and he always wants to hear every little thing Christopher learned. Chris likes to talk about it with his dad too but Buck is more curious and he asks a lot of questions and he likes to go to the library with him to try and find more books about the topic they’re discussing. Buck always knows a lot of stuff and Chris thinks he’s very smart.

Chris goes on reading the first chapter about the Pyramids but jumps with surprise when he hears a few knocks on his door.

“If you think I don’t see the light from your bedside lamp then you’re wrong buddy.” His dad says carefully, his head peeking in through the crack of the door. “Maybe I should tell Buck to stop spoiling you too much if that means you’re gonna fall asleep past your bedtime every night.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Chris says, smiling cheekily at his dad. He still puts the book down on his bedside table and lies down in his bed, muffled in his blanket. “You love me too much for that.” He adds and that makes his dad laugh while he lowers his head down and ruffle his hair.

“Alright alright, mister. It’s a school day tomorrow so no more reading books on the sly, okay young man?” His dad says, pointing his finger at the air around him, like he wants to scold him but he doesn’t really know how to. Maybe he wants to sound strict and inflexible but it always makes Christopher wants to laugh instead. He bites his cheek to hide his smile and lets his head fall on his pillow.

“Yes father, I will go to bed now.” He says, making fun of his dad and a laugh escapes his lips when a smile finally breaks in on his dad’s face.

It becomes serious again a bit too fast, though, and Christopher knows it must mean something is on his dad’s mind. He has that faraway look in his eyes, like he’s there in the room but not quite. Something is bothering him and Christopher is determined to find out what it is.

“Dad.” He says, sitting down straight on his bed and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing, kiddo. Everything’s good.” His dad answers with a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Christopher knows he’s lying. He always know when his dad is lying. He’s only a kid but he observed his dad long enough along the years to know when his smiles are not sincere. When he really means it, his eyes are shining and even when his dad was wearing a mask because of this virus, Christopher could always tell when he was smiling just by looking at his eyes. His eyes always say it all.

And right now, his eyes are not smiling. They seem sad, empty and lost.

“No it’s not.” Christopher shakes his head. “Something is wrong. I can tell.”

“Of course you can.” His dad says, chuckling. “Since when did you get so smart?”

“I was always smart.” Christopher replies, shrugging his shoulders. “It just took you very long to notice it.” He adds and that makes his dad laugh again. Christopher considers it a win.

He loves making his dad laugh.

It’s very quiet after that. A silence settles in the room and his dad turns his head, his eyes looking down at the carpet. His fingers are intertwined together and he keeps rubbing them against each other like he’s nervous. He eventually takes a deep breath, though, and looks at Christopher in the eye.

“There’s- there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, superman.” He says, and Christopher doesn’t like the tone of his voice. It’s too fragile, too quavering. He seems scared.

It must be very important – Christopher thinks as he takes his teddy bear in his hands.

“Okay.” He says carefully. “What is it?” He asks.

“Chris.” His dad starts but marks a pause. He closes his eyes like he wants to organize his thoughts and goes on. “Uh you know how you used to like chocolate ice-cream so much?”

“Yes?” Christopher says. He doesn’t really understand where his dad drives at but he figures that if that conversation cannot wait until the morning then it must be very important. So he stays silent and lets his dad continue.

“But then Buck bought you this banana ice-cream with chocolate chips and you told me you realized you never liked chocolate ice-cream so much in the end and that you could go on and live your life only eating banana ice-cream with chocolate chips instead?” His dad asks and Christopher frowns.

“Yes dad I remember that but why are we talking about ice-creams at 10? You’re acting really weird and you’re not making any sense.” Christopher says. This is all very confusing and Christopher doesn’t understand why adults always need to make weird detours while saying things instead of getting straight to the point.

“Because I-” His dad closes his eyes again. “Listen, when I started dating your mom Chris, I was very young and I didn't always know how to-”

His dad marks a pause again but Christopher doesn’t actually need to hear more to understand what he’s trying to say. His teacher once used the same ice-cream metaphors to talk about the same thing so Christopher is pretty sure he got it right.

“Dad, are you... Are you gay?” He asks and his dad whirls his head around to look at him in the eye, seemingly very surprised.

“How did you know I-” He starts but Christopher doesn’t let him the time to finish and cut him off.

“You know you could have just told me you were gay instead of using this weird ice-cream metaphors.” He says, letting himself fall on his mattress as he lets out a sigh. “My teacher used the same metaphor the other day and I don't understand why you guys are always trying to ease us into it like it's some big complicated thing. It's not. It's very simple. And I’m not five anymore dad, I’m 12. I know what being gay means.” He adds. “And if you are then I think it’s cool.”

“You think it’s c-” His dad lets out a laugh, like he’s relieved. Christopher doesn’t really understand why it’s such a big deal but he’s happy his dad told him because he seemed really scared and now maybe he can finally relax. “Thanks god for you, kid.” He adds after a while and Christopher closes his eyes. He’s tired but he can still hear what’s next.

“Christopher I want you to know… It’s not because I’m gay that I didn’t love your mother, you do know that right? I loved her very much. And I’ll never regret marrying her because then you came around and you’re the most important person in my l-”

“I know dad.” Christopher says, his voice tired. “That’s okay. I know you loved Mom. And I know you love me. I love you too.”

Christopher barely feels his dad’s lips pressing a small kiss on his hair that he’s already fast asleep in his bed.

---

There’s something different about his dad after that.

He seems happier. He seems more relaxed, more comfortable, like there was something stuck inside of him and now he can finally let it go. Christopher decides he really loves seeing his dad like that. He’s smiling a lot, laughing too, and sometimes Christopher even feels like he’s discovering a better version of his own dad. He thinks it’s really cool and he hopes it’s going to stay that way.

He’s on the couch right now, Buck by his side. They’re watching Luca for the fifth time and his dad is in the kitchen preparing a new bowl of pop-corns. Christopher cuddles up next to Buck and smiles when Alberto and Luca finally finish to build their own Vespa.

“Buck.” He says.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Luca and Alberto are in love with each other?” He asks and looks up towards his dad when he comes back with a bowl full of pop-corns and three hot-chocolates. He even added mini marshmallows on top of it and Christopher instantly takes his mug to take a sip of it. His dad sits down next to him and Chris doesn’t miss the way Buck’s fingers graze his dad’s hand in the process.

“Hum I don’t know, kiddo.” Buck answers. “Maybe. What do you think?”

“I think they are.” Christopher goes on. “In love, that is. My friend, Jess, he disagrees though. Says they can’t be in love because they’re two guys. And that it’s not normal for two guys to be in love.”

“Well he was wrong.” Buck answers and Christopher nods vigorously.

“I know. I told him that was a very dumb thing for him to say because I had two dads and I think he-”

Christopher doesn’t finish his sentence, though. Because suddenly Buck chokes on his hot chocolate and his dad has to tap him a few times on his back for him to be able to breathe normally again.

“Did I… Did I say something wrong?” Chris asks.

“No kiddo.” His dad says, smiling, his hand still on Bucky’s back. “I think Buck is just surprised to know you’re telling your friends he’s your other dad.”

“Well you kind of are… Aren’t you?” Christopher asks, turning his head to face Buck.

“I mean, I- If you- maybe we can-”

“Like you and Uncle Bobby.” Christopher goes on. “He’s not your real dad but you call him Pops all the time. Maybe I can start calling you Pops too.” He says, glancing at his dad. “Would that be okay?”

“I think you broke him, buddy.” His dad says, running his hands through Bucky’s hair. A few tears are rolling down Buck’s cheeks and Christopher is scared for a second but then a small laugh escapes Bucky's lips and he wraps his arms around his shoulders.

“Of course you can call me Pops, Chris, I- I’m sorry I’m a mess, I’m just… Just very happy.”

“That’s okay… Pops.” Chris says and laughs when that only makes Buck cry a bit more. “I love you Bucky.”

“Love you too, superman.” He says and Chris smiles when his dad presses a small kiss on Buck’s forehead. “So much.” Buck asks.

“You should move in.” Christopher only adds, bringing back his attention to the movie still playing on their television. “You and dad are already dating anyway so it would be easier if you just stayed there. I like having you here. Dad, too. He’s happier when you’re around and always sulking when you’re not.”

“I’m not sulking!” His dad exclaims, his eyes wide.

“How do you know we’re dating?” Buck asks at the same time, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Dad told me he was gay a few weeks ago so I just figured he finally realized he was in love with you. Was I wrong?” He asks cheekily and his dad shakes his head, laughing in disbelief. “And yes dad, you’re totally sulking. So ask him to move in already. Maybe he can be your banana ice-cream with chocolate chips”

His dad has his hand on the back of Buck’s neck now and when he looks up at him, a soft smile breaks in on Buck’s face. His dad uses his thumbs to wipe the tears off his cheeks and laughs through his nose.

“Wanna move in?” He asks and Buck only nods before kissing him right on the lips.

“Gross.” Christopher whispers, looking away. “Can we maybe continue watching the movie now?”

And they do.

And it’s one of the best days of Christopher’s life because he knows now that from now on every night can be Friday’s movie nights.

#buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #my writing #911 #9-1-1

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Part 2

Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 2 to our submission for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Series Masterlist.

With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity.

When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.

"I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded.

"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest.

"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second.

“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips.

As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?"

"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing.

"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.

"You don't know the half of it," he winked.

"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips.

"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."

"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying.

"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door.

The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped.

"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words.

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room.

In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led.

**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.

His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.

Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.

“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.

“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.

Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.

“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.

“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”

“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.

“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.

“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”

“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”

“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.

“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.

“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”

“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.

“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”

“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."

Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.

“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”

“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.

“You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”

Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.

“Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”

She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”

Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...

He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.

“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.

“How's Richard?”

Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.

“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”

“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”

Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.

“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.

“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”

“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.

“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”

“Good.” Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.

“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.

“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.

“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”

Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”

And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.

“I see that now.”

“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan.

"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.

“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.

“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.

“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”

The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.

***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.

You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.

The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning.

“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.

“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.

“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.

“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”

You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.

At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.

“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.

“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.

Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.

“No thank you?”

“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.

His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”

You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.

“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.

“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”

“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”

“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”

He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”

“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him.

You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.

So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.

True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.

“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.

“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”

“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.

You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed

“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”

Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you stuttered

“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.

“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.

“Answer the question.” He said simply

And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down

“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.

“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”

“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.

With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space.

A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.

You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.

“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.

“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.

“Clothes too…”

“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.

You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”

“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”

You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”

“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.

With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.

It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.

“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.

Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.

“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”

You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”

“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.

“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”

At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.

“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.

“10 minutes” he repeated.

He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.

“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner. Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.

You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.

“That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”

You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.

“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.

“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.

You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.

****

Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.

“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”

She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.

Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.

He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.

“Hairbrush?” she asked.

Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.

“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”

At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.

Such a petulant brat.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.

Oh, Doll, you have no idea…

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.

“Smart move.” He nodded.

“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.

“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”

At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”

“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.

“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.

“Is that it?”

“For now.” He nodded.

“Do I get to make any rules?”

Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Can I ask you for things?”

“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”

“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”

“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.

Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.

“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”

She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”

As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said quickly

“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.

**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.

In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.

“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.

Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.

“For the boredom.”

You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.

Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.

“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”

He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”

The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.

“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.

“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.

“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”

Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”

“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”

His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”

Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”

“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”

“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine

“I met my mother.”

“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.

“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”

“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”

Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”

“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”

“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”

“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.

“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.

Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”

At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."

“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.

“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”

There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.

Shit.

In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”

“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.

“Fuck you.” You spat back.

“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.

His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.

Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly.

One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.

“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”

You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.

“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”

He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.

“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.

“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”

“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.

"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”

He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.

"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.

Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.

“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”

At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.

“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”

And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.

#murder he wrote #jshauntedhouse2020 #j's haunted house 2020 #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out #knives out fanfic

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pepethehobbit · 3 years

Text

It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)

3 times people wrongly assume Jens and Lucas are in a relationship and one time they’re right. (ao3)

“You have the present right?”, Lucas asks, probably for the third time in the 15 minute walk it took them from Jens's house to Robbe and Sander's new flat. Jens feels like he should be annoyed with the lack of trust Lucas seems to have in him, but he can't help the fond laugh that escapes his lips.

“Yes, Luc. I have the present. Would you chill? Why are you so nervous?” Jens places what he hopes is a comforting hand on Luc's shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. It seems to work because the tension is visibly draining from Lucas' shoulders under Jens' touch. It makes Jens weirdly proud.

“It's the first time that I'm meeting all of your friends.” He must notice Jens' confused gaze and continues to explain before Jens can interrupt. “No, I mean like all of your friends. Of course I know the brothers and Sander, but I haven't met Jana yet, or Milan, or Luca or Zoe and Senne and I know that they are like super important to you as well.” Lucas feels like maybe he should say more but he stops there. Jens seems to read him perfectly anyway.

“And so what? You're afraid they won't like you?”

“No, I mean, yes kinda? To be honest? We've spent a lot of time together lately and I don't want them to think I'm holding you back from spending time with them.”

Jens tries to hold back an amused laugh but he is hugely unsuccessful in doing so and before Lucas can get the chance of being offended he tries his best to reassure him: “Leave it to you, Luc, that you actually think about stuff like that. Honestly, they will understand and they are going to love you and you them. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

Lucas sighs but Jens can tell that he was at least a little bit successful in calming his nerves. It surprises him sometimes how easy it is for him to read him. Technically, they've known each other since elementary school. They were best friends, even before Robbe entered their little group but then Lucas moved back to the Netherlands when they were eleven and they lost contact. Once, out of curiosity, Jens looked for a Lucas van der Heijden on Instagram when he was sixteen, just to see if he would find him and maybe see what he was up to these days. When he actually found him a weird but not entirely uncomfortable feeling began to stir in his stomach as he hovered over the follow button. In the end he chickened out of pressing the button that would give them the chance to reconnect. The same feeling came back when he started uni three weeks ago and he felt someone tap on his shoulder when he was standing in front of the cafeteria with Robbe and the rest of the brothers.

Jens turned around, curious, and couldn't hold back his mouth from dropping in a really unflattering way, overcome with shock and surprise. “Lucas?”, Jens had asked, not really trusting his eyes. Lucas let out a small but pleased laugh and nodded his head excitedly in confirmation.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas continued to smile at him, but it turned into a teasing one when he looked around, surrounded by students and university buildings and answered: “Studying?”

Jens had rolled his eyes at that, he wanted to come back with something equally smart but then he remembered the others were still with him when he saw the confused faces of Moyo, Aaron and even Robbe, who didn't seem to recognize him right away. He introduced them to Lucas and from there on they basically spend every single moment together, either with the brothers or alone. They seemed to fall right back into that easy dynamic they had when they were still children but there was something else as well. At least for Jens, that easy dynamic came with an added need for closeness. Somehow, he really can't imagine a day where he wouldn't want to spend time with Lucas. It might have to do with the fact that when Lucas smiles at him with the bluest eyes he has ever seen Jens feels like something that has been missing from his life has been returned to him. Jens isn't ready to question this feeling yet, just like he is ignoring the way his stomach feels all fluttery and excited when Lucas attention seems to be solely on him.

Naturally, Robbe and Sander invited him to their housewarming party and Jens and Lucas have decided to go together. They even found a little present for them when they were out on a little tour of Antwerp, with Jens showing Lucas the city and all his favorite places. “Jens, I have lived here before, you know? I really don't need the tour,” Lucas has said when Jens suggested it. “Bullshit, Luc. That was ages ago. I need to show you all the good spots that we didn't know of back then.” Jens also took him to that little secluded corner by the Scheldt that he sometimes goes to when he wants to be alone. He hadn't even consciously thought about it in the moment, it just felt so utterly natural for him to show Lucas his hiding spot. Jens only really noticed that he did that when he was home again and replayed the events of the day in his head. He wondered only briefly about what that could mean and then he brushed that thought aside and just decided to text Lucas instead, asking when they should meet up at the skate park the next day.

Two weeks later, of which they had almost spend every day together, they're now on the steps of Sander's and Robbe's new flat, about to ring the door bell. Jens still has his hand on Lucas' shoulder, squeezes once again and asks: “Ready?”

Lucas nods and rings the doorbell that reads Driesen/IJzermans. They get buzzed in and on their short climb up to the first floor they could already hear the muffled sound of music and smell the smallest hint of smoke and alcohol. Jens and Lucas follow the sound and are greeted with an excited Milan, who opens the door at the end of the hall for them.

“Ahhh, Robbe! Sander!” Milan cries with a look inside the apartment, searching for the owners. He then turned around again, now face to face with Lucas and Jens who have arrived at the doorstep, standing next to each other with their shoulders and arms touching all the way. If Jens were to reach out with his fingers, they would brush against Lucas'. “Another couple to make me feel sufficiently single tonight, how nice. Robbe told me all about you two. Come in, come in, the lovebirds are probably in the living room somewhere.”

It's not exactly the word “couple” that makes him freeze on the spot and it's also not the thought about what Milan means when he says Robbe has told him about them. It's more the way he can feel Lucas tense immediately next to him and then not at all as he takes a step sideways to create some distance between them. Hurt flashes through him for a second, hurt at the thought that Lucas is ashamed at the thought of them together. But then he thinks about the fact that Lucas hasn't been out that long, a fact he told him when Jens took him to his hiding spot. Maybe, Jens thinks, it's an unconscious reaction Lucas makes whenever people assume the one thing about him he tried to hide and suppress for so long. Maybe he just isn't ready to be openly affectionate yet even if they are just friends.

Lucas and Jens haven't moved from their spot in the doorway and Milan eyes them curiously. “Are you coming or what?”

“We are not a couple. Lucas is just a friend,” Jens clarifies finally. He hopes he is sufficient enough in hiding his disappointment.

“Yeah, what exactly did Robbe tell you?” Lucas asks with a laugh, but it sounds forced.

Milan seems still really confused and skeptical. “He told me about how Jens doesn't have time for him right now, because he met you and now spends all his time with you. He said, and I quote 'They can't get enough of each other.' Are you sure you're not together?”

Jens has to will the blush away that threatened to spread at Milan's words. Although it definitely wasn't in the way Milan implies, they did spend almost every minute of every day together. He woke up with thoughts of Luc, texted him to ask if he has time, they hung out all day and at night in bed he would think about the day and how happy he is that Lucas is back in his life. But now, when he looks over at Lucas, he seems to be uncomfortable with what Robbe had said and Milan interpreted the wrong way.

Probably firmer than he really needs to, but hoping it makes Lucas more comfortable about the situation if he dispels all possibilities of them being together, he says: “Yes. We are pretty sure we are not together. Lucas and I were best friends when we were young. We just had a lot to catch up on these last few weeks.”

With that, Milan lets them off the hook and they finally step into the flat. He still doesn't seem to believe them, Jens knows Milan well enough to see that he is not convinced there is nothing between Luc and him. Jens doesn't try to think about it too much. He also tries to direct his thoughts away from the feeling of disappointment that Lucas is so uncomfortable at the thought of them together. The nagging feeling at the back of his throat tells him he knows why he feels that way but he also doesn't want to investigate it further, because his disappointment will only turn into hurt. He tries his best to stay oblivious to the storm inside his head that Milan's words and Lucas's reaction have caused. He isn't ready to admit it and the party is the best way to distract him.

They find Robbe and Sander, give them their present and Jens introduces Lucas to all his other friends. Jana eyes him curiously when he talks about Luc, but he stores that away with the rest of his thoughts concerning his childhood friend. The party is fun, they dance all night and drink even more and Jens nearly forgets all about the things he should probably start thinking about.

It's been a few weeks since the housewarming party and they have yet to talk about the whole “Milan thought we were together” fiasco, and remembering how uncomfortable Lucas seemed at the idea, Jens is scared to bring it up. So they ignore it. It's not like it's a big deal anyway. Milan thought they were together and they cleared that misunderstanding, setting everything straight. There is no reason for Jens to still think about it as much as he does, failing at ignoring it entirely. He tries his best though, tries to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling when he thinks of Lucas as his boyfriend, how proud he would feel if he could actually get to introduce him as such, how nervous and excited he still gets every time they hang out together, how he can't stop staring at his lips when Lucas doesn't notice, how he daydreams about covering those lips with his own, how he just wants to reach out and touch, how he drowns in the bluest eyes in his dreams nearly every night.

“So what do you think? We could combine it with a trip to Utrecht to see my friends?” Lucas asks, snapping Jens out of his sad attempt at ignoring thoughts about the boy right next to him.

“What?” Jens answers confused but Lucas only huffs a laugh. “Honestly, Jens. Where is your head at recently? Have you been listening to anything I have said in the last five minutes?”

Jens tries to think about what they have been talking about, sitting at the familiar spot at the Scheldt that has already kind of become their spot since Jens has shown him his hideout. He comes up with a blank, confused about himself that he got so lost in his head trying and failing not to think about Lucas that he can't even recall what the real one just said to him. He feels how Lucas scoots a bit closer to him on the blanket they share and from the corner of his eye he sees him raising his hand. Jens is still surprised however when that hand is placed gently on his temple, a smooth thumb easing away the crease between his eyebrows. Lucas' touch is soft and careful and Jens tries to ignore the feeling of wanting Lucas to touch him like this all the time, until he's not careful anymore but sure and secure in his movement, because Lucas has done this a million times before. But with so many things concerning him, Jens is widely unsuccessful.

“Hey, are you okay, Jens?” Lucas' voice is soft and low, flowing over with real concern and it's causing a small flutter in Jens' stomach.

“Sorry, I spaced out. I think I'm just tired,” Jens lies and he can see that Lucas doesn't really believe him. But before he can say anything Jens turns to him with a loud exhale and asks: “What were you talking about?” Lucas eyes him skeptically for a moment but something in his voice must have given Lucas reason to not push further.

“I was saying that Kes and Jayden have two spare tickets to see The 1975 in Amsterdam and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me? We could make a weekend trip out of it. Go to Utrecht on Friday, you could meet my friends and on Saturday we all take the train to Amsterdam and leave for Antwerp again on Sunday. What do you think?”

Lucas sounds so obviously excited about it and Jens is honored that he wants him to meet his friends and go to a concert of his favorite band with him. It's not really Jens' favorite band, but Lucas has shown him some songs that he really loves and listens to all the time now. So he replied with the only possible answer: “I would love to.”

The answering smile he gets from Lucas is tugging at his heartstrings and as he smiles back just as excited he really hopes that this boy is not going to break his heart.

When Jens gets home after it had started to rain, after they scrambled for their skateboards and the rest of their belongings and after they skated through the summer rain to their respective homes, out of breath from laughing, Jens changes into comfy and dry clothes and throws himself on his bed, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day.

So ignoring isn't really working out for him, Jens notices. But is there an alternative? He can't just go up to Lucas and tell him that he wants to be more than friends. Especially thinking about the tenseness of Lucas' shoulders when Milan referred to them as a couple. For now, he probably can't do much more than to accept that he has feelings for Lucas and hope that they will fade with time, because it doesn't look like Luc is going to return these feelings anytime soon. It's gonna be hard, but that's better than not having Lucas in his life at all.

It's only been a little over a month ago since they met again and Jens already can't imagine a life without him by his side, is confused for a second when he thinks back to outings with the brothers and realizes that Luc wasn't with them. Lucas just fitted himself so perfectly into Jens' life, made himself comfortable and decided to stay. Jens can only hope that Lucas keeps that decision when his feelings will eventually go and ruin everything.

+++

The queue to the venue where they're about to see The 1975 is pretty long. Next to him Lucas bemoans the fact that they will probably get really shit places to see them on stage. He wants to reach out, pull him in a hug or just comfort him somehow, but with Kes and Jayden there he feels weirdly watched. They, Kes especially, have already given Jens some knowing looks during their visit and Jens isn't sure how to interpret them, because sometimes they are accompanied by what Jens guesses are supposed to be meaningful looks towards Lucas. Who mostly ignores them or he just really doesn't seem to notice.

“Oh come on, stop whining. Whose fault was it that we missed the first train because someone couldn't decide on an outfit to wear?” Kes says with a gentle punch to Lucas's shoulder.

“It's my first time seeing them live, I wanna look good.” Lucas replies in a sulk.

“You do.” Jens says before he could even think about it, it just slipped out. The urge to compliment and reassure Lucas is like a reflex he can't control. From of the corner of his eye he can see Kes smile knowingly again but he is more focused on the way Luc's eyes snap up to his, as if searching for something, but then he shakes his head slightly and simply says: “Thanks.”

“Guys, come on! We're about to see our favorite band! Stop complaining. It's gonna be awesome, even if we won't actually see what's going on,” Jayden exclaims excitedly, pulls all three of them into a group hug and ruffles every mop of hair he can possibly reach. Lucas pushes him away with a fond smile, tries to set his hair right again and Jens finds himself thinking that his curls look just as good when they're a little bit messy. He wants to run his hand through them himself, just to see if Luc is still as pretty with even messier hair. Jens wonders if his hair is even more disheveled in the mornings, if he ever gets a chance of seeing it, of being the reason for it.

“Look, the queue is moving up,” Kes notices and they all move up a few meters until they have to stop again. This goes on for another half an hour, in which they talk and speculate which song they are going to open with and in which Jens tries really hard to get his thoughts about Lucas under control, because if he doesn't he is sure he will slip up again and say something that he can't take back.

They are finally at the entrance, Kes and Jayden are in front of them, already showing their ticket to one of the ticket inspectors. Lucas has just grabbed his hand to pull him along and when he shows his ticket to the inspector he hasn't let go of Jens yet. Both of them are kind of surprised when the inspector says to Lucas: “And your boyfriend's ticket?”

Lucas drops his hand immediately, as if burned and even flinches a good foot away from Jens. “He is not my boyfriend,” and his voice sounds like he is in panic and Jens tries really hard not to feel the hurt washing over him.

“Well, I still need your ticket,” the inspector says calmly and turns his gaze towards Jens. While handing the ticket over he chances a look at Lucas and it looks like he would rather do anything else than to meet Jens' gaze.

They walk inside in an awkward tension after the security guy cleared them. Jens hates it, things have never been that weird between them. He hates having to second guess his every move, he just wants to get back to the beginning, where everything felt natural with Lucas and he wasn't aware of his feelings. Because being oblivious hurt way less than this. Being aware means he can see the tension in Lucas shoulders and that weird sort of forced smile he now gives Kes and Jayden who wait for them near the entrance. Being aware means that he he sees how glad Lucas seems to be that they are here to distract from the situation so Luc can avoid talking about it. Jayden immediately ropes him into a conversation about a pretty girl he saw. Jens knows that Lucas couldn't care less about his friend's weird attempt at flirting, at least under normal circumstances. Because right now he seems very eager to support Jayden instead of giving him one of his usual sarcastic and teasing comments.

If Jens was feeling less for him he probably would've been able to just brush it off with a joke and a bro like punch to his shoulder as soon as it happened. But he couldn't react fast enough because the first thing he felt was the sting of rejection when he heard Lucas's panicked voice. He tries his best now to be part of the conversation happening around him, to not focus on Lucas as much anymore, but instead to copy some of Kes' relaxed aura and stealing some of Jayden's excitement about the concert.

As soon as Lucas notices that Jens isn't going to approach the subject he seems more relaxed as well, seems to be able to meet Jens' gaze again and not duck his head like he is still embarrassed but seems genuinely happy that he is here with him. And when Luc's favorite band finally gets on stage after a mediocre supporting act he tugs at Jens' hand excitedly, lets out a happy mixture between a laugh and a squeal when they start with Chocolate and Jens thinks that if he wasn't aware of his feelings for him before, this moment would have done it. He is singing along loudly and off key and dancing and smiling so happy and carefree and Jens falls even more in love with him. When they play It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) Lucas turns to look at him and seems momentarily surprised when he finds Jens' eyes already on him. But then he just smiles in a way Jens has not seen directed at him before, turns his head back to the stage and continues singing along with that same smile on his face. Something like hope blossoms in Jens' chest and he wants to reach out and take Luc's hand in his. He doesn't. In the end he is just happy that even though the evening started with awkward tension between them, it still turned out to be one of the best nights he has ever had.

It's been nearly a week since the concert which is also the last time they have seen each other. That glimmer of hope that Jens developed that evening died down pretty quickly when Lucas turned down every offer of hanging out with him this last week. He said it's stuff he has to do for Uni and then there was apparently some drama with Kes and it all sounds like made up excuses to avoid Jens.

Despite his slight annoyance and hurt that Lucas can't just talk to him about what ever is bothering him he tries asking him one last time because he really could use his help tonight. It's Lotte's birthday tomorrow and he promised her a cake. Not one you could easily buy from a store, but one he makes from scratch, with his own hand. In hindsight, he really should've resisted Lotte's puppy dog eyes because Jens knows only one thing about baking which is that it's not just a simple thing of following the recipe to get something resembling a cake. What he does know though, with 100% certainty is that Lucas loves to bake.

To Lucas Hey Luc I know you're probably busy but tomorrow is Lotte's birthday and I promised her a cake. Could you come over? I'm freaking out about this and I don't know shit about baking.

To Jens' surprise he actually gets a reply only a few seconds later.

From Lucas Sure. You already have a cake in mind? We could make a funfetti. Lotte will love it and it's pretty easy. We could meet up at the supermarket at your corner for the ingredients?

To Lucas You are a lifesaver! See you in twenty?

From Lucas I'll be there.

+++

It was kind of nerve wrecking for Jens to spot Lucas skate up to him after a week of not seeing him, which has been the longest time without real contact since Lucas tapped him on the shoulder nearly two months ago. He feels like they had a moment at the concert but then Lucas has ignored him all week and now he doesn't know what to feel. It's a bit awkward at first because neither of them said anything except a quick “Hey” in greeting. Jens just kept looking at him, couldn't not when he hasn't seen him all week and Lucas has kind of just kept looking back. It made Jens' inside feel like jelly and he had to break away from his gaze before he could blurt out something that he couldn't take back.

It was easier once they were inside, both glad about a task to distract them from the tension, as mundane as it may be. Once they start actually shopping for the things they need, they fall back into their comfortable dynamic pretty quick, the tension giving way to easy familiarity. Lucas is teasing him about his inability to bake and Jens acts fake offended until Luc gives him an overly dramatic “You can be glad to have me”. Jens is barely able to hold back the answering, and way more serious sounding “I am”, doesn't want to risk slipping into awkward tension territory again. Lucas leads him through every aisle in the supermarket, making sure they don't forget anything and Jens thinks about a future where this is a regular occurrence: Lucas turning grocery shopping or other simple every day life things into something special by simply being there with him. He tries to stop these thoughts as soon as they enter his brain though, they will only hurt him more, because he knows it's not the same for Lucas anyway.

When they are at the cash register and have put everything on the conveyor belt Lucas suddenly goes wide eyes, turns to him, grabs his hand, squeezes once and says: “Shit, we forgot something for our cake. I'll go grab it real quick. Be back in a second.” With an apologetic smile to the cashier, he lets go of his hand and jogs back into the direction they came from. Kind of surprised from the suddenness of the action he stares after Lucas and then at his hand that still tingles in the places Lucas' fingers have brushed him. Shaking himself out of it he starts to pack away the things the cashier has already scanned and waits for Lucas' return.

The cashier notices him first though. “Oh, you're boyfriend's back,” she says, making Jens' head snap back up in surprise to find Lucas only a few meters away, halting in is fast steps, eyes going wide in shock before turning into something closed off Jens can't decipher. He definitely heard what the middle aged lady has said and when he is at Jens' side again he hears him repeat the words that have caused him the same hurt just a week ago: “He is not my boyfriend.” It's accompanied with an uncomfortable and forced fake laugh and Jens tries his best not to feel the disappointment because he has already expected this reaction, couldn't have expected something different because he really isn't his boyfriend. But the obvious discomfort in Lucas whole body language still hurts.

“Oh,” says the cashier with a confused expression. “I'm sorry, my bad. Looked liked you were.”

Jens should probably say something as well because this is getting awkward as hell and Lucas looks more and more uncomfortable. He decides not to comment on it though and just asks the cashier for the total after Lucas has already added the missing ingredient to the belt.

After paying and walking out of the store Lucas turns to him and says: “Well, that was awkward as fuck, right?” It's the first time he acknowledges one of those incidents and it's with another one of those forced fake laughs.

“Yeah, fucking weird,” Jens tries to mimic the laugh but it sounds off and sad even to himself. Luc punches his arm gently, an attempt at restoring the easiness between them and says with a fake chipper to his voice: “Come on, lets go home and bake that cake.”

Jens turns around and points to his bike that he came with and then looks pointedly at Luc's skateboard. “For old times sake?” Jens asks and hopes it works to further relieve the tension. This time Lucas' spreading grin is honest and he nods excitedly in agreement. So he gets on his bike and Luc on his skateboard, while holding on to Jens' shoulder and they ride off. It's something they've done all the time as kids, depending on who brought their bike. They would just ride around in the neighborhood or to the skate park, trying to go as fast as possible while one of them pulls the other along on the skateboard.

Once Jens reaches more speed he feels how Lucas clings more tightly onto his arm. He turns his head, following the sound of Luc's laughter and lets the happiness of this moment flow through him. When Lucas turns his head to look at Jens the laughter fades out but it's replaced with that damn smile again, the one from the concert and it makes Jens' heart skip a beat. But Jens doesn't have enough time to think about what this means if he wants to avoid an accident.

They arrive at Jens' home about five minutes later and head directly into the kitchen. Luckily, Lotte is at her friends house and his mum is still at work, so they have the house to themselves. The second they enter the kitchen Lucas is in full on The Great British Bake Off mode, tells Jens what to do, which appliances to get and to preheat the oven to 180°C. Jens can't help himself but to find it endearing. He continues to smile at Lucas in a way which is possibly way too soft until Luc turns around, raises his eyebrows expectantly and asks: “What is it?”

Jens' smile turns into mixture between bashful and amused. “Nothing,” he replies and before he can hold it back he adds: “You're cute when you're bossy.” With the way Lucas' cheek turn a pretty shade of pink and the way he can't fight the small smile that is tugging at his annoyed expression Jens can't even bring himself to regret it.

Although that changes when the next thing he sees is flour being thrown directly into his hair. “Oh no you didn't.”

The laugh Lucas lets out is happy and free but his tone is challenging when he replies with “Oh, I absolutely did.” He also raises his eyebrows as if to ask Jens what are you gonna do about it. Not backing down from a challenge and still holding eye contact with Lucas, he blindly reaches for the flour, gets a small handful and dumps it unceremoniously on Luc's hair as well.

Before Lucas can reach for the flour again Jens tries his best at stopping him from making even more of a mess of him. He grabs his wrists but Lucas is faster and Jens ends up with white powder all over his shirt and pants. From then on he doesn't really know what happens, they both reach for each other, grab at their arms and wrists and waists to try and get flour all over each other. The air is filled with their laughter and breathless exclamations of stop and the next thing Jens knows is that in an attempt to stop Lucas from throwing flour all down his back he acts before he thinks and steps right in front of Luc, basically trapping him against the counter.

He is still a little breathless when he meets Lucas' gaze but for an entirely different reason now. They are closer than he anticipated, their noses nearly brushing and Jens can see the little specks of flour that have caught on Luc's eyelashes. He feels how his eyes drop down to Luc's lips, just for a millisecond and he should step back, knows that he should but he can't will his feet to move even just an inch. Lucas doesn't seem to be in rush to get out of the situation either and it makes Jens feel brave. He raises his hand and lets his thumb swipe gently over Luc's eyebrow down to his nose, then his cheekbone and lastly his chin under the pretense to get rid of some flour on his face. He can hear Lucas' breath hitch and it makes his pulse beat even faster than it already does.

But then Lucas is pushing him away, not exactly firm but not exactly soft either. He clears his throat, shakes out his hair and says: “We should start baking. Good thing we bought two packs of flour, right?” He turns his back towards Jens but he can still hear the shakiness in his voice. Jens knows Lucas well enough to know that it probably would be a bad idea to push now but he can't just ignore it. He needs to know what is holding him back.

“Luc? Why do you seem so uncomfortable when people assume we're together?” He sees Lucas' body freeze at the question and he hates that he can't see his expression as his back is still turned towards him.

After a couple of second Lucas seems to try it with denial. “I don't know what you mean.” Jens wants to get annoyed but showing it would probably make Lucas close up even more. But that doesn't mean that Jens is ready to give up. He goes to stand next to Lucas but he resists the urge to reach out and touch.

“Well, the first time with Milan I literally felt you tense up and for the first hour of the party you were really weird and tensed up every time I reached out for you. The second and the third time your voice was literally filled with panic at the idea of people thinking we're together. I don't mean to sound so judging but what is so bad about the thought of being with me that you can't just laugh it off? Is it because I'm a boy? I mean -”

Lucas suddenly turns around and his expression reads a mixture of anger and annoyance. “Oh come on, Jens. I'm gay. Of course it's not because you're a boy.”

Jens can't help himself to keep the annoyance from his own response: “Well, what is it then? If it's not that, then it's me, right?” He can see the anger draining away from Lucas' face and being replaced with a conflicted kind of expression. “Yes,” he finally answers quietly and Jens feels himself take a step back as if he had been physically punched in the gut. That's what it feels like at least. It's his turn to turn his back on Lucas, not ready for him to see how much this actually hurts him. But then he feels a hesitant hand on his arm and a soft voice saying: “But not in the way you think right now.”

It fills him with enough hope to turn around again and he finds Lucas stepping even closer than before. He takes a deep breath and looks intently and earnestly in Jens' eyes. “It's not you that made me uncomfortable or the thought about being your boyfriend. Believe me, that is as far away from the truth as possible. It was more the thought that other people, strangers even, could so clearly see what I was trying to hide since the moment I met you again. I was trying so hard not to fall for you but you make it so goddamn easy, Jens! And I hated the thought that I was so obvious about it. It made me uncomfortable that you would figure out how I feel about you, especially because I thought there would be no way that you could ever feel the same.”

Jens heart is beating out of his chest and he falls even more towards Lucas during his confession, as if pulled in by a magnet. He raises his hand and places it on Luc's neck, beginning to play with the curls that he can reach. “But I do,” is all that he is able to reply.

“I'm beginning to understand that.” Lucas says with a smile and Jens' eyes flutter shut as soon as he feels Luc's nose brush against his own. He tilts his head and holds his breath when he feels the first brush of their lips. Lucas makes this small little contented noise and Jens positively melts against his chest, parting his lips to invite him in. Where Lucas' fingers softly dance up Jens' arm and into his hair a trail of goosebumps is left behind, despite the relative warmth in the kitchen, heated up by the summer sun shining through the window. He feels Luc's other arm wrap around his waist to pull him even closer and Jens can't help the smile that's breaking out on his face, too giddy with the fact that he is actually kissing Lucas.

He decides that feeling Lucas' responding smile against his lips is nearly as overwhelming as actually kissing him. Lucas pulls back a little bit and Jens knows that his smile can be described as dopey but that's no reason for Lucas to break out laughing. “Why are you laughing?” Jens asks amused and with a happy smile that he can't seem to shake.

Lucas stops laughing enough to answer but when he meets Jens' eyes he starts again. The sound makes Jens' heart skip a beat and he thinks that he would give anything to see Luc as happy as he is right now. He is also weirdly proud of being the reason for it.

Instead of explaining what it is that is so funny to him right now, Lucas simply reaches up towards Jens' hair and gives it a good ruffle. A big puff of white powder rains down around Jens and suddenly he is reminded of the situation which got them into this in the first place. He looks down at himself, down at Lucas, looks at the entire mess they made of the kitchen, meets Luc's gaze and they double over laughing at the same time.

Once they calmed down enough Jens reaches for Lucas again and it already feels so right and familiar how he fits against him. He presses his lips against Luc's in what was planned as only a little peck but Lucas immediately tightens his hold on him and begins to softly moves his lips. Jens pours everything he hasn't yet said into the kiss and with the way Lucas keeps kissing him he thinks that he understands what Jens wants to say.

“Ahem,” makes a voice behind them and Lucas starts to pull away from Jens' lips to see who was trying to get their attention. It's Robbe's birthday and they're currently on the balcony leading of the kitchen when they turn around and see Milan standing opposite of them with an amused expression.

“Please tell me that you sorted some shit out, because that's definitely not how friends act.”

Lucas and Jens turn towards each other and can't help the smile that is spreading across both of their faces. They turn back to Milan, whose expression has gone soft and knowing, and Lucas responds with: “Yeah, we got our shit together. I'm pretty sure that he is my boyfriend now.”

“Great, now there really is another couple to make me feel more single,” Milan says, but his face betrays his disappointed tone. He positively beams at them and when he turns around to leave again he makes a waving motion and says: “As you were.”

Jens turns to Lucas with a teasing smile and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Lucas rolls his eyes as if annoyed but he still leans in and against Jens' lips he whispers: “You're lucky I love you.”

It hasn't been that long but Jens can't imagine a time in their future where the words won't make his heart beat faster, can't imagine ever getting used to the feeling of experiencing Lucas' love. Jens leans in and before he closes he distance between their lips for good he whispers back: “I love you, too.”

#vds #van der stoffels #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #my writing #I found out way too late that the song is about the singers drug addiction but then it was too late to change ot #*it #sooo please ignore that hahah #it was meant to be romantic I guess?#well anyway #I hope you enjoy

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sussux-zel · 3 years

Text

Angry Birds headcanons bc why not?

1. Red:

-He’s the dad friend, even when he’s only older than the Blues, Stella, Silver, and Bubbles.

-Sings Shakira’s songs in the bathroom.

-He’s a good singer.

-The real chef in the Flock. However, he rarely cooks.

-He snorts like a pig when he laughs too hard. While he finds it embarrassing, the Blues, Chuck, and Silver think it’s hilarious.

-He has a secret crush on Stella. Only Terence and the Blues know it, and not exactly because Red told them.

2. The Blues:

-Everyone in the Flock takes the role of a family member for them: Bomb, Mighty Eagle, Hal, and Terence are the uncles; Stella is the aunt/cousin; Chuck, Silver, and Bubbles take the role of their siblings; Matilda is SO their mother and, surprisingly or not, they consider Red the closest thing of a father.

-Jim is pretty good at reading feelings.

-This is dumb, but sometimes I consider Jay, Jake, and Jim as the short version of Jason, Jacob, and James. The boys are not fond of their full names, and the Flock only uses them when they are extremely pissed at them.

-Jay is the overprotective brother. Being the oldest of the triplets sometimes gets deep into his head and he usually tends to put himself in front of Jake and Jim when they are in danger.

-Jake and Jim appreciate that, although they also remind Jay that they must protect each other regardless of birth order.

-When Jay or Jim have nightmares, they would move closer to Jake, who can handle nightmares better than his brothers.

3. Chuck:

- “Guys or girls?” Both. Both are good.

-Listens to Freddie Mercury all the time. He already knows almost all the songs, and his favorite is “Don’t stop me now”.

-He needs his beauty sleep. Otherwise, he might kill you with his morning face.

-Can’t handle scary movies. But really loves comedy and drama.

-Chuck believes that he’s the second in command in the Flock. While the rest usually tell him that the role is occupied by Matilda or Bomb, Red actually considers him as his right hand. Both of them discuss the plans for rescuing the eggs and when the cardinal is not available, he trusts Chuck to be the leader. They are besties, your honor.

-He and Silver cannot be left alone, or the slingshot disappears.

4. Bomb:

-Listen: he would kill for ice cream.

-Loves to read comics and Sci-Fi books.

-Sometimes is the voice of reason. Sometimes he’s so done with everything and just EXPLODES.

-This boy is so in love with Matilda, but he’s too shy to tell her. That’s why he left her flowers signed by “Anonymous”. All the Flock knows about his crush, including her.

-He has a white mug with “World’s best and coolest uncle” written in it. The Blues gave it to him and he cried for a week after receiving it.

-He’s actually pretty smart.

5. Matilda.

-She likes Bomb and is aware of his feelings for her. She’s just waiting for the best moment to tell him her secret.

-She’s not a bad cooker. The “Cordon Bleugh!” occurred before she decided to take cooking lessons and become almost as good as Red.

-Sweet food is her strong point. She’s in charge of the birthdays’ cakes, especially Bomb’s and the Blues’.

-Also excellent at reading feelings.

-The Flock secretly refers to her as MomTilda. When she found it, she was so flattered and almost drowned Jay in tears while she was bathing him.

-Usually takes paint lessons on the internet. She founds painting being therapeutic.

6. Terence.

-I don’t care what Rovio says: he and Red are related. Period. And, like Jay, he’s an overprotective older sibling. However, he knows Red’s an adult and is mature enough to take care of himself. Terry is silently proud of him.

-He’s the quiet guy who can actually write poetry that leaves everyone crying.

-The oldest of the Flock.

-Can and will prank Chuck and blame the Blues for that. On special occasions, both parts would join forces and make fun of the canary.

-He thinks Matilda is beautiful, and he used to have a little crush of her (only Red knew). Nowadays, he only sees her as a good friend.

-Actually gets on well with Silver, even though they are opposites.

7. Bubbles:

-Sweet, little cinnamon roll that will kill you if you eat his candy.

-Besties with Hal, despite the age difference.

-He doesn’t talk too much, mainly because he doesn’t find it necessary. However, he can establish a conversation with Hal and Stella when he’s in the mood.

-He’s afraid of storms, especially when those occur at night. As a result, he jumps into the Blues’s nest

-He understands the reason of the Flock to fight the birds, but that doesn’t mean he is 100% okay with it. Bubbles does not have any personal problems with the pigs and often enjoys their company when there aren’t eggs or adult birds involved. More or less: don’t steal the eggs, get Bubbles as a friend.

-Regardless of his age, Bubbles can be trusted to be alone with the eggs.

8. Hal:

-Latino!Hal. Still thinking if he’s Mexican or Colombian.

-He’s the least angry bird of all, including the children.

-Instrument master. He’s particularly good with the banjo and the guitar.

-Hal is kind of a loner, although he’s such a nice bird who can be friends with anyone if desired.

-Despite their different personalities, he gets on well with Red and Terence. Both cardinals find comfortable to talk or do different activities with the emerald toucan.

-He can act rather clumsy at first sight, but when you know him, you would be surprised he’s extremely wise and acts as the voice of reason of the team. Someone needs to have the brain cell.

9. Stella:

-The best singer of all the Flock.

-She’s another prankster, and her victim is always Chuck and his feathers (the Blues and Silver are so proud of her).

- “Guys or girls?”. Both. Both are good x2.

-She reciprocates Red’s feelings, but it is not on her plans telling him about it. The bad thing about it is that he’s better hiding his crush, so she’s the one who is a disaster about it. Once, Matilda was guessing who would be her couple for Valentine’s Day and Stella blushed and ran away when the chicken mentioned the cardinal. Oh! And the worst thing about it was that the Blues and Luca (who Stella was babysitting) were hiding during all the time in the nearest tree. The following days when the cardinal and the galah were alone together, Jay and Jake would say “Hi, momma!” and “Hi, daddy!”, while Jim and Luca were a giggling mess. Both adults were totally embarrassed to look at each other at the eyes.

-She can and will beat you at Just Dance.

-I don’t like Chuck and Stella as a couple. Instead, I see them as besties who flirt with the other as a joke and gives them advice for getting their crushes. Additionally, these two love extreme sports and always do dangerous things while Matilda is screaming.

10. Silver:

-She lives for making Red angry with funny faces and piggy sounds.

-Would like to know more about Terence. She finds the big guy mysterious. And she loves mysteries!

-Discusses comics with Bomb. She likes Marvel. He likes DC. It's kind of funny watching them fighting about it.

-Loves thriller and suspense stories in campings and dies for S'mores.

-Don't consider her dumb. When the pigs least expect it, she had already kicked them and destroyed everything before leaving with the eggs and the next plan for stealing them.

-Likes to build fast things.

#angry birds #headcanon #bombtilda #redella #why did i think this was a good idea #who knows #might regret this later #dead fandom #i think #?.txt

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hopeshoodie · 3 years

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I can’t believe it took me until part 8 to do my favorite boy but

Here are the pros and cons of dating

Noah

Cons

Noah is really non confrontational, so he tends to let issues fester. It’s not that he’s trying to let things build up, it’s just that he doesn’t think they’re important enough to bring up. He won’t start a fight about them when they’ve built up, but if MC is angry about something he’ll mention that there’s a bunch of things he’s let go but not have specifics. It ends up coming out like ‘yeah well what about all the other things?!’ ‘what other things!?’ ‘I don’t remember!!’. He’s not actively keeping track of all her mistakes, he genuinely does forgive and forget, but then when tensions come to a boil he needs to point out that there has been conflict that he just ignored. He’s not trying to guilt or gaslight MC, but sometimes it feels like it. If she thinks especially little of his intentions, it feels like he’s just pulling things out of thin air to be mad instead of focusing on the issue. That’s not what he’s doing- he just doesn’t address little things until they feel like big things. But of course he hasn’t done the introspection to truly understand how doing this is hurtful or articulate that he doesn’t mean it to be.

When he and MC disagree, he lets things go wayyy too easily. This is fine if MC is a really mature, self-reflective person who can see that she’s crossed a line after the fact. But if MC is a little more selfish/immature, like Lottie, this is a huge con because he doesn’t give her accountability that would help her grow. We saw this with Hope- she wasn’t able to recognize how harmful her temper was when she was dating Noah because he never pointed it out, he just rolled over. If there’s a genuine problem- financial, emotional, logistically, he’ll ‘let it go’ until it’s a way bigger problem (and much harder to solve).

Sorry that most of these cons are about how he fights with people, but that’s what we saw in-game lol. I’d love to know more about how Lucas or Rahim fight with their partners. But when you’re arguing, Noah tends to focus on really little details of what you said instead of listening to the whole thing and getting a sense of the bigger picture. So let’s say the issue is ‘Noah, I need you to tell me when you’re borrowing my car because you took it to the gym and then it went from having enough gas to get me to work in the morning to being on empty. This morning I had to stop for gas and that made me late.” The issue there is actually ‘please tell me when you’re using my car”, but he fixates on the gas part and says “well fine I can fill up your tank”. So he focuses on little details that he can fix instead of acknowledging the actual problem.

He internalizes things so fucking hard. Yes he intellectually knows that when MC gives him feedback on things she’s talking about his BEHAVIOR and not him as a person, but he definitely feels like shit about himself if he makes a mistake and MC calls him on it. He’ll definitely beat himself up about things for weeks after it happens, and his internal dialogue in general is pretty toxic.

I can see him being a bit of a workaholic. Not in the same sense that Camilo is in Boat Party, but Noah definitely will go into the library on a day he’s scheduled to be off if he has projects to work on or will stay late because he got engrossed in research. Same thing now that the library’s closed because of COVID- it takes him two times as long to put everyone online and work from home, so he’s spending more time working than ever. He views it through the lens of the ‘greater good’- getting that display set up for the patrons is more important that seeing his wife two hours earlier because many members of the community outnumber one person. Plus he just cares so much about his work that he has a hard time seeing it as an inconvenience to other people.

He loves his family so much. Even when MC and he get married and have kids, he struggles to prioritize them over his siblings and parents. So if his little brother Arlo needs money, Noah won’t hesitate to give him a loan even if he and MC are struggling financially. If his aging mom or dad can’t live alone anymore, Noah will invite them to move in with his family, even if their house isn’t big enough to accommodate more people. I can see this being a huge point of contention, especially in that second scenario where MC would have to take on a caretaker role as well. Noah just wants to help people so bad and has a hard time saying no, so that can sometimes impede his partner.

He’s really used to living on low income, and so he has a lot of frugal habits and concessions that he thinks are normal that someone more middle or upper class might find irritating. These are all coming from my experience and things partners have complained about- but think things like only eating out once a month or refusing to turn the heat on until it’s dangerous or making his own laundry detergent. He grew up doing them out of necessity (and still does, student debt on a public librarian’s budget? I couldn’t do it), so he doesn’t realize how strange or frustrating his habits might be to someone who isn’t used to it. He also has a really hard time justifying spending excessive amounts of money, so if MC has lavish taste there’s going to be some conflict.

He doesn’t like initiating anything. Conversations, activities… you know *smirk emoji*. He will, but the ratio of when Noah suggests something to when MC does is like 1:8

My boy is beautiful, and his clothes look lovely, but he has 7 outfits that he rewears all the time. The closest thing to fashion is him putting a different button up shirt underneath his vest. It’s definitely a joke at work that he wears the same sweater, button up, and quarter length shirt just in different colors. You know that vine where the teacher walks into the room wearing the same shirt in different colors, saying the same ‘hello’ for like a million days. Noah’s coworkers remake that with him, because that’s exactly what he does.

He’s a bit of a homebody, and loves routine. For me, massive plus, I love that. But for someone who wants to party regularly or be spontaneous, I can see constantly changing plans and going out with people being really draining to Noah. He has a small group of close friends, so he’d struggle to remember MC’s friends' names if she has more than five. Don’t get me wrong, Noah will take MC to galleries and dates at least three times a month, but it has to be discussed and scheduled in advance.

Pros

Honestly, what isn’t a pro about him? Noah is a steadfast, thoughtful, and kind person. His politics are about taking care of people, providing them dignity and respect, and building community. He loves his family and is incredibly patient. He’s incredibly smart but not at all classist or condescending about it. I know this is supposed to be about how the islanders affect the person they’re dating, but oh my god he’s such a good person I love him. Let’s just say the pro for this is his positive aura.

He’s really good at group dynamics and listening, so he goes out of his way to make everyone feel heard and valued. If someone says something and no one acknowledges it, he’ll specifically engage with them so they’re not left hanging. If someone’s trying to get a word in but can’t, he’ll get everyone’s attention then say ‘so and so had an idea’. He’s not one to boisterously laugh in group settings, but he always makes eye contact and smiles if you make a joke that flops or say something he agrees with. If people are teasing about something, he picks up if it’s gone too far really easily and will gracefully change the subject/tell them to knock it off.

He’s super conscientious about respecting boundaries and ensuring the people around him are taking care of himself. If MC and him are long distance and texting after 10pm, he’ll be like “I love you, but we’ve both got to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. He’ll always check and make sure people have eaten when meeting up with them, and if they haven’t he’ll insist they get food from somewhere. 100% gives you his jacket, brings you water bottles, in general just wants you to take care of yourself.

Above all else, Noah just always ensures the people around him feel safe. The last thing he’d want to do is make people uncomfortable, so safe driving, safe spaces, safe sex are all musts. He’s really good in crisis situations because he can calm people down and encourage them to think critically.

Building off of that, he’s really aware of how much of the housework is being done by who and always tries to ensure he’s doing his part. I bet that was a big thing he ripped on Rahim for- Rahim expects his woman to clean up after him and do the bulk of the domestic work, and Noah knows that’s bullshit. I think Noah likes cleaning, anyways, and will usually take laundry/disinfecting bathrooms/cleaning dishes over cooking or running errands. But the mental load of keeping track of recipes/groceries that need replenishing and keeping up with kids needs, he’s aware of the imbalance and does his part. Obvious plus, because it sounds fucking exhausting to date a man. He fucking hates vaccuming though, and will splurge on a roomba.

He has a dry sense of humor that’s very based in puns and hyperbole. Sometimes it’s hard to know when he’s joking or not, but he never makes you feel bad for missing a joke or dwells on something for too long. He absolutely subscribes to the Mcelroys’ No Bummers rule, there are some things you don’t joke about and he’s happy to shut down inappropriate comments or ‘jokes’. He definitely prefers physical gaffs and dumb ways of saying things, so his favorite comedians are John Mulaney and Chris Fleming. While humor isn’t an important part of how he relates to other people, Noah enjoys being around funny people and won’t shut down their energy like Rahim, Marisol, or Hope.

This is just me projecting again but Noah is generoussss. Even though he doesn’t make a lot of money at the library, he still has a ‘mutual aid’ budget each month (and goes over it often). He’s the first one to give money to panhandlers, donate to gofundmes, and give friends/family personal loans. That definitely gets him into sticky situations sometimes, because he has a hard time saying no and can get taken advantage of, but ultimately I think it’s a pro because he’ll never forget where he came from and always prioritize helping other people.

He has a really pretty, deep singing voice and this is a pro to me because fuck I meltttttt.

The shit he says to his partner or spouse? THE most romantic thing in the world. You think Mr. “you’re made of stardust” doesn’t shower his lover with the most meaningful lines at random times? You think he’s not quoting sappho and jane austen when he’s at a loss for words? You think he’s NOT going to turn over in bed on a lazy Saturday and say ‘this is the most perfect my life will ever be’? It’s not even prompted either, yes he’ll compliment Bobby or MC when they get all dressed up for date night, but more often he’ll profess his adoration in the middle of dinner, then take another forkful of food.

Fantastic with kids, and this is a huge pro because people who can work with kids and be patient/positive with them make me so fuckim soft. But if/when (hopefully when because if MC didn’t want kids I don’t think it’d last) they had kids, Noah is happy to be on bottle duty, wake up early to the baby, and generally be a really involved parent. He’ll take a big chunk of paternity leave, and generally be there as much as humanly possible. Even when they have multiple little tyrants running around, he always makes time to be alone with MC and make sure she’s not taking on too much.

He’s basically a lesbian, which is definitely a reason I love him so much. Hear me out- loves milfs, loves 80s music, communicates affection through meaningful glances and playing with hair but will die before explicitly saying any of it, crushes on his best friend for the longest time but never makes the first move, puts way too much emotional meaning and personal metaphors into objects and then presents them as gifts, is into fandoms and actively collects pop figures, is attracted to assertive/powerful women, wears beige skinny jeans, wears VESTS….. That’s a lesbian. He’s a bisexual man, but he’s also an honorary lesbian.

A really good confidant. Noah’s an amazing listener and never judges people harshly- his life philosophy is as long as you’re not hurting anymore or yourself, everything else is details. So you can definitely tell him secrets and confess regrets to him and he’ll listen with those soft eyes and gentle nods. Talking to him about mistakes always feels like unburdening yourself. And he’d never tell your secret to anyone. Doesn’t matter if you cheat on him, lie to him, or die, he’s never going to tell anyone your secrets.

#litg #litg noah #pros and cons

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fuckyeahisawthat · 4 years

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"What was his trajectory from Calabria to Rome? How much of it was what he was told to do for the family and how much of it was escaping?" ---- that post was sooooo good and it really reminds me of that interview Luca did for Trust where he calls Primo the 'connection between calabria and rome' (or something to that effect), and it really has me wondering if he had a little apartment in the big city, and if so, HOW could he afford it? does he have roommates? did he live in a shitty area? hmmmmm

Ah thank you! And yes! I can’t find a link to the actual article this quote comes from, but there’s a screencap in this post where Luca talks about Primo being “the glue between Rome and Calabria.” (The other thing I LOVE about the Trust interviews I have found with Luca, of which there aren’t many, is that he always describes it as a story about two families, which is much more accurate to what the story actually is than just saying it’s about the Gettys.)

But back to Primo headcanons. So personally I think he lives in Rome like...most of the time, and he must have a little flat somewhere, probably something small and simple, a place to sleep and keep his stuff, in an unassuming working-class neighborhood. I think there were still parts of the city where you could live fairly cheaply at this point in time; all those service workers who attend to tourists and rich people have to live somewhere. My understanding is there were also quite a few squatters (Paul and his friends were living in a squat when he got kidnapped irl) although I think Primo would want somewhere he knew was stable and secure.

Given the less-than-stellar relations with his uncle, I tend to think he like, fucked off from the village as soon as he was old enough to make that work, got as far away as he could manage, and then constructed a reason it was useful for him to be in Rome. It is the capital; having a set of eyes and ears there probably is useful both for keeping tabs on the underbelly of official politics and on other parts of the criminal underworld. Rome is definitely not ‘Ndrangheta territory; their base is in Calabria, but Primo is exactly the kind of person who is smart and sneaky enough to keep tabs on what the local organized crime outfit is doing without drawing too much attention or ruffling any feathers.

(Also, in a small village everyone knows everyone’s business. If you want to keep part of your life secret--like, say, the part where you are not straight--being in a big anonymous city is definitely an advantage. Which I think would be a strong incentive for Primo to spend as much of his time in Rome as he could.)

As for how he affords things...I’ve been thinking about the burglary we see him doing in the first scene where we meet him, and Chase’s line about Primo “stealing to live.” Because it doesn’t really seem like...the kind of official business a large-scale crime syndicate gets up to? Like, they have protection rackets; they have businesses they skim from and launder money through; they have ongoing streams of income through selling drugs or guns or whatever. So I kinda think this is, like, Primo’s freelance operation and this is how he survives in Rome--the occasional one-off robbery plus probably knowing a whole bunch of people he trades favors with and knows he can scrounge meals from and stuff like that. Like it’s notable to me that when we see him at Berto’s restaurant, he’s not out front; he’s in the kitchen, with the staff. (And yes also with the coke but I don’t think that’s the only reason.) He seems like the kind of person who would recognize the value of building relationships with the kind of people nobody pays attention to.

I’m sure if Salvatore tells him to do something, he’s expected to drop whatever else he has going on and go do it. But like, as long as he doesn’t start a mob war by messing with the wrong person (and he’s smart enough not to), Salvatore probably doesn’t care what Primo does the rest of the time, and he doesn’t seem inclined to help him, so I think this is the strategy Primo came up with, and is probably pretty good at by now.

I’m also just...lmao at the idea of Primo with roommates. I can’t see that going over well. :-)

#asks answered #trust fx #primo nizzuto #i love answering primo asks send me more!#Anonymous

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2ndaryreactsandscenarios · 4 years

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NCT 2020 Reaction: Love Letters on a Monday

Taeil (The Manly Man, Yet Power Vocal, Sheesh~)

Would a hundred percent not do a thing about it. I feel like he would appreciate the thought that was behind the letter and he would appreciate the person’s feelings. But he had his eyes set on somebody already (slang for you) and since he didn’t know who it was he wasn’t really gonna make it a bigger deal than it was. Now, if he had gotten more letters in the weeks to follow, then he may do something about it and try to give the person leaving them the message he wasn’t interested.

Taeyong (Artistic, Passionate Rapper and Caring Leader)

Would feel bad about it. While he really thought it was flattering for someone to do something like this, he would hate the idea of leaving them in the dark and not being able to respond. For a few days after receiving the letter he would probably want to find out who it is. Once he resigned himself to never finding out the person’s identity, he would then get another letter. Taeyong really wouldn’t want to lead the person on and he would want to respond to their feelings face to face, and receiving more letters made him more determined to find out who it is.

Johnny (The Mood Making, Yet Calm Sir)

Would keep it to himself. While Johnny liked the letter and everything, he would treat it as something between him and the other person. So he definitely isn’t out and about flaunting the letter around like a prized possession, rather it’s something he cherished and found to be pretty sweet to receive. If he got more letters from the same person, he would start to try and figure out who it is, and MAYBE vent to only his most trusted friends about it.

Yuta (The Takoyaki Master, and Politely Keepin It Real, Osaka Man)

Honestly probably suspected that somebody had a crush on him, and so the letter came as no surprise to him. One of the few members whom I believe wouldn’t take that long to figure this whole ordeal out to begin with. Once he got the first letter, he would act very low profile about it and act like it wasn’t a big deal. But on the inside he is on high alert. Analyzing the heck out of everyone who so much as blinks too much around him to figure out who had left him the letter. And this only became more apparent when the second letter was released upon his locker.

Kun (The King of Magic and of Food)

Wouldn’t believe it and would think it was a little too good to be true. He would think this is something that only happens on TV and no way in the world would it happen to somebody like him. Kun would be the few to appreciate the thought but be in complete denial that this was a real thing happening to him. When he got another letter he wouldn’t so much as bat an eye and would pretty much continue on with life.

Doyoung (Vroom Vroom; The MC Vocal)

A hundred percent would think this is some sort of prank on him. Turns into a detective and suspects everyone to be the culprit. There was no way someone was out there who was so sweet and considerate to take the time out of their day to leave a letter if they didn’t have some other plan on their agenda. AKA, to humiliate him. He wouldn’t even allow himself to get swept up in the idea of it, and would rather spend every break interrogating his friends and using their weaknesses against them.

“MARK, I’M LOOKING AT YOU. You sneezed three times in a row, are you lying to my face???”

Ten (Dancing Devil and Whimsically Cute)

Would get more caught up in the why behind the letter rather than the actual content. Now this sounds insane, but bear with me here. So Ten would like the letter and the intent and all that jazz behind it, but he would wonder why someone would like him that much? Was he that scary and unapproachable? Why couldn’t the person tell him in person? He would eventually shrug such thoughts away as he figured the situation was over. Until he got another letter of course and then he would start to get a bit worried. He had someone he was interested in and he didn’t want this person to get the wrong idea. So he was in quite the bind.

Jaehyun (Sensitive, Springtime Lover, Mr. Valentine)

Isn’t surprised that a love letter arrived. What is surprising is the content of the letter. He can feel the thoughts and feelings behind it and that makes him curious enough to want to figure out the person behind the pen. Would have his friends keep a look out for any odd behavior from those around him and he would hope to find the culprit by the end of the week. However he failed and received another letter. Thus this became war.

Winwin (The Dancer of Grace, The Tough Cutey)

Would go through the trouble of hiding the love letter from everyone and making himself look super suspicious to everyone. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to find out about the letter and tease him, so he decided to get to the bottom of this himself. He thought for sure it must be someone messing with him and trying to make a fool of him, so not to be mean but Winwin would probably avoid reading the letter. He would bank on the assumption that it was a love letter and try to act all tough by not reading the letter. So when he got another one he would start to panic and then he’d buckle down on his tough guy act.

Jungwoo (Stomach=Abyss, The Pure Vocal)

Would look around when he found the letter and wonder who could have left it for him. He found the letter cute and was surprised that somebody noticed him and thought of him that way. So best believe while he didn’t run off to tell all his friends, his eyes would be looking around in the classroom. He’d secretly be hoping to make eye contact with the dear soul that wrote that special letter to him. So when he received another letter, honestly it made him a little happy inside.

Lucas (That Low Low Rap, The Charming Wit)

Gonna sound bad… But Lucas would boast a hundred percent about it. He would tell all his friends and act like he was the bee's knees for receiving this letter. Now he wouldn’t flaunt the contents of it, but he would definitely tell everyone he had gotten a love letter. This didn’t change the fact that he came up to you, smug grin and all, telling you all about the love letter he had gotten. You would nod and pay him no mind and that would irk him a little bit. He had a crush on you and was certain you did too. He was hoping for a bit more of a reaction out of you. Thus, Lucas became determined to find the person who sent it so he could prove to you how popular he was. After all, the amazing person who sent him the letter liked him. So why didn’t you? (So many problems here, but we are just going to let this play out how it’ll play out).

Mark (The Hardworking Rapper, With An Adorable Sneeze)

One he was shook, and two he was honoured. It wasn’t everyday he got a love letter from someone. At first he was apprehensive and was wondering if it was a joke from the members, but once he read it it felt a bit too sincere for a prank. While he would be curious since the person didn’t leave a name on the letter, he would respect they didn’t want to be known and carry on with his day. When another letter came he would be a bit more motivated to give this person an answer someway or another.

Xiao Jun ( Humble Songwriter Agent Eight )

Would get giddy like a kid about it. He wouldn’t so much sweat the details about whether it was authentic or not, rather he would spend a bit more time imagining who it COULD be. He had had a crush on you for some time now, and it would be a pretty cool thing if you somehow were the person to leave the letter. He wondered how he could figure out who it was and thus would mention it to a couple of his trusted friends.

Hendery ( Music On The Go, Cucumber Inventor )

Hendery wouldn’t do much when he got the letter. Even if he found the contents endearing and wanted to respond, he couldn’t really do that since the person who wrote it didn’t leave their name in the note. So he would carry on with his life and would keep the entire ordeal to himself. Now when he got the second letter he would begin to wonder who it could be leaving the letter. So he would make a mental note to pay more attention to his surroundings and would wonder what he should do in this situation.

Renjun (The Loving and Smart Artist, The Virtuous Vocal )

While the gesture would be nice and all, Renjun wouldn’t really form an opinion about the person because in truth? He didn’t know who this person was or could be. They didn’t leave a name, so for all he knew it could be meant for someone else or worse it could be some sort of prank. So Renjun wouldn’t act on it unless the letters got weird or something. But Renjun is in this for the long haul. He isn’t going to play into this basically because he thinks it’s some big prank. So why get invested in a trick or lie?

Jeno (The Mature, Car Loving Violinist)

Jeno wouldn’t make this into something big and would be pretty quiet about the whole thing. More than the other person, he would think about how this letter made him feel. He was happy to receive it, but it didn’t change that he already had feelings for somebody else. May even feel guilty about getting the letter and would feel inclined to tell you his true feelings and about the letter. Whatever happened from there he was willing to see through.

Haechan (Sarcastic and Soft, The Lover and The Vocal)

Haechan would discover the letter around his friends and would act like the letter wasn’t all that he thought it was. He wouldn’t make fun of it but he would act way more indifferent than he actually felt about it. But when he actually read the letter in private? He would be smiling ear to ear. He would treasure the little letter and would wonder who wrote it. He would carry on like normal, but every time he passed his locker he was secretly hoping for another letter; except this time it would have a name at the end of it.

Jaemin (Affectionate Nana, Dancing Pianist)

Would not hide the fact that he got the letter, but he wouldn’t be announcing it in the halls or anything. He really liked the letter and what the person had to say and so if he was given the option and chance to find out who the person was and have a conversation with them, he was more than willing to take it. Jaemin wouldn’t be searching for your identity though and rather he would just go with the flow. If the secret admirer decided to show themselves, they would do so in their own time.

Yang Yang ( Little Sheep Racer, Mysterious Rose Zero )

Did you know that Yang Yang got a love letter? Because he pretty much told everyone that he got a love letter. Now this isn’t fully out of blind excitement as much as it was a strategy. He wanted to make sure everybody knew he got one so if anyone approached his locker, in theory, it would spread like a rumor and like wildfire. He didn’t want whomever wrote the letter to remain in the dark and to hide behind a piece of paper. He would only believe it if they said it to his face. Deep down he hoped that they really felt the way they said they did in the letter. Yes his method is a bit underhanded, but all is fair in potential crushes and love letters (and fiction please don’t do this in reality! How wicked!)~!

Chenle (Sweet and Soft, High Vocal)

Honestly? Would be a bit scared to read the letter. He may have even thought the letter had accidentally been left in his locker but when he found his name in the letter contents he would chicken out again. It didn’t so much matter to him what the letter said at first, but rather he didn’t know how he would even go about responding to this person without sounding like a jerk. He decided to ignore it and try to move on with his life in silence, until the second letter came. Chenle would realize the problem wasn’t going to just go away and that he needed to face this person and tell them that he was sorry but he had feelings for somebody else.

Jisung (Killer Dancer, The Shy Temporary Maknae)

Jisung would be a bit concerned about the letter. The person they were describing didn’t sound at all and he felt like he wasn’t nearly as good as the person thought he was. So he ultimately opted to move on and ignore the letter. He felt like the person was living in a fantasy that he could never live up to. When the second letter arrived, he was determined to find the person and turn them down! It didn’t matter whether they cried or were upset, he needed to hand them that dose of reality and get back to his own unrequited feelings for you.

Disclaimer: An important thing to note in regards to these reactions/scenarios is that none of them are based on how the members are in real life and are merely a depiction that fits the fiction (as I don’t know the members personally). These are meant to be lighthearted (aside from the angst that continues to rise on this blog) and I hope they are not being taken as pure fact or reality.

If you took the time to read this reaction, thank you so much for your time. Stay happy and healthy! Make yourself a magnificent morning/afternoon/evening/night whenever in time or whenever in the world you may be and I hope to see you all again soon. Bye bye~

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shadow--writer · 3 years

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I Got a Feelin' I Might Have Lit the Very Fuse

hmmm it’s a writing weekend. And the start of what’s going to be an awful week haha. So expect more of me peddling my brainworms (halp I have fallen back in love with these two to the point where friends have started sending me prompts for them)

title (it’s slowed bc WHY TF NOT)

Maeve x Lucas. Second meetings might go better than firsts 3k

TW: none!

@dela-png

A week had passed, and it was slow. Her regulars, of course, had been popping in and out keeping things from being boring. As much as she appreciated that...she was going to kill them.

How on Earth someone could anger a squirrel that badly she would never know.

But today was calm. Calm and yes sure the ‘q’ word.

She refused to even think of the ‘q’ word. Knowing her luck the moment she thought it, seven people would be flooding into her clinic.

With food poisoning.

She let out a low groan. Slow days were nice and all, but usually she had company. It was eerily silent when she was alone.

And she was bored.

Maeve pushed herself off the counter. She could stand to reorganize her herbs and medicine cabinet. She needed to relabel some of the bottles and jars anyways, with the amount she pulled them off the shelves she smudged her script.

She started moving the jars off the shelves, muttering to herself as she looked at the labels and did her best to decipher the smeared ink.

She had only pulled the herbs off the shelves and onto the counter when the bell above her door rang sweetly into the silence. She stopped her humming, pushing the fraying edges of her handkerchief away from her eyes.

Oh yeah sure so now someone came in.

Forcing a smile and a fake cheery tone to her voice, she turned around. “I’ll be with you in a moment!” she called. She couldn’t see the door over the stack of herb jars on her counter. Some were pretty empty, she’d need to stop at the market again or go foraging.

Ugh foraging.

It wasn’t that she disliked foraging. But it was time consuming.

And she usually got lost.

But she didn’t like to talk about that part.

“Thumbelina!”

She froze. She knew that nickname. She knew that voice.

The smile climbing onto her face became real.

“Giant!” she said, moving out from behind the counter. He looked better today. Not as bloody. In his arms he cradled the little boy from the dock. “Oh! You must be Will!” she said, dusting off her skirt.

The boy looked much better than he had. Colour had returned to his face, and he didn’t seem to be in as much pain. That was good. She knew the bite must ache but it was good seeing him up and about.

She stepped forward, offering her hand to shake. He shook it once, swinging their arms up violently before slamming them back down.

Whoa there.

She laughed in her surprise. “Firm handshake you’ve got there!” she said, drawing her hand back to her side. “So what brings you to my corner of the world? Need more pain meds? The stitches okay?”

Lucas blinked at the questions, she directed her attention to the boy in his arms (who looked so tiny compared to Giant, she noted with a giggle).

Will smiled, he was missing one of his front teeth. “Nope! Lucas brought me over to say hello! And bring you somethin!” Will ducked his head closer to her, mock whispering. Or whispering at the volume a seven year old thought was a whisper.

Aka not at all.

“He also said he wanted to see ya again!”

Her eyes flicked back up to the man in question. His cheeks had been flooded with pink. The blush climbed all the way up to his ears. This was why she never told seven year olds anything. They had no filter, it was cute, but embarrassing.

Though the way Lucas blushed was adorable.

She pressed her fingers to her lips as she chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you came by. It’s nice to see you again,” she said. “Would you care for something to drink? I have tea in the back.”

Lucas’ head snapped up. “We don’t want to bother you! To- W-Will here just brought a gift over to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“You...saved his life.”

Oh yeah right she did do that. “And you’re just the messenger?”

Will tugged on Lucas’ sleeve, the man gently setting the boy down on the ground. He was walking, that was great!

“The others n I made you somethin! Sylvie mentioned yer cloth head thing.”

She touched the ratty thing on her head. It was falling apart at the seams but she didn’t have time to make another.

Will held a deep green fabric up to her. She blinked, reaching down to grab it. It was made from a soft cotton, and it smelled nice. Like cinnamon and other spices. “So we made you a new one!”

She pulled the one in her hair out, shaking out her bangs. They were a gnarled mess, but soft against her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling the new handkerchief into her curls. She tied it under her ponytail, bringing her hand down as she smiled down at the little boy. “It’s beautiful.”

“Lucas also wanted ta help!” the boy chattered on. He reached over to Lucas, tugging on his hand. Lucas shuffled forward, looking a little embarrassed. “We couldn’t afford any fancy fabric so Lucas gave us one of his old shirts!” The boy beamed up at her, his hand so tiny in Lucas’. “Sylvie did the little flowers!”

Oh! She didn’t even notice the messy embroidery. She ran a hand against them, it was bumpy beneath her fingers.

She loved it.

She squatted down, it made it easier to be at eye level with him. “Well tell her I said thank you and that her flowers are beautiful.”

“She said they were bellflowers. Those are Lucas’ favourite flowers! They’re the only ones she knows how ta make though...”

She looked back up at Lucas. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment. She giggled. “Bellflowers are beautiful, Lucas has good taste.”

“Do ya like it?” He stood on his toes, eyes all lit up.

She smiled, closing her eyes as she tilted her head. “Oh I love it! I’ve been needing something new to pull my hair back for a while now. It was very kind of you to make something for me.”

“I uh, also brought you lunch,” Giant said, bringing her attention back up. Squatting down to be at eye level with the seven year old boy was a smart idea.

Until she realized how much more he would tower over her.

Goodness gracious.

She froze, teetering on her toes. “What?”

He held up a little cloth bundle tied with a string. A nervous smile worked its way across his lips. “It’s some extra stew I made to bring with me. A...thank you from me.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine eating out.”

“But a home cooked meal is much better than eating out, wouldn’t you think?”

She pressed her palms to her knees as she got to her feet. “Well...yes, but I don’t have time to make a home cooked meal. Let alone a good one. I am an awful cook,” she joked.

“Oh I’m sure you aren’t that bad.”

She cringed. He was so very wrong. “...oh no I am that bad. ‘Permanent ban from the kitchen back home’ bad. And that’s when I even eat something- oh.”

He was glaring at her.

She did not like him glaring at her.

“What?” she asked, drawing out the syllables.

“‘Even eat something’? Thumbelina you’ve got to eat. You’re tiny enough already.”

“Well I don’t have time! Dumba- dumb people don’t wait.” She caught herself. No swearing in front of the kid.

“You should still find time to eat something. Were you even planning to get something to eat today?”

“Well y-yes!”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Okay, no, but I usually get something to snack on during slow days. What’s got your goat in a twist anyways? It’s not like we know one another well.”

Her words struck a chord. He looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I...I cook,” he admitted. “So I’ve started paying attention to people’s eating habits. Yours are atrocious by the way.”

“Atrocious? You only know my lunch eating habits!” She sulked, placing a hand to her chest. “You wound me.”

“It’s true. Worse than the kids at the dock. At least they come to bother me when they’re hungry. Like stray cats.”

“Hey! We aren’t stray kitties!” Will whined.

Lucas affectionately rubbed his knuckles into the crown of Will’s head. He swatted at the taller man to no avail. “Well to me you sure look like cats.”

“Yer just blind then!” Will huffed, trying to smooth down his hair.

Giant turned back to her, handing her the cloth bundle. She took it, her lips twisting. “I brought you lunch out of the goodness of my heart, so I expect you to eat it at a reasonable time.” His tone was teasing but she knew his words had weight.

“How will you know if I don’t?” she asked, her voice taking a sing-song tone.

He was still not as impressed. Ugh he was no fun. “I’ll come back to check on it.”

“...you wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You have work!”

“I can take breaks. I work hard, the least they could give me.”

She sighed, cradling the meal he made her to her chest. “Fine! I give, I give! I’ll eat your lunch.”

He smiled. “Good.” His eyes kept moving to her hair. She touched the handkerchief, his cheeks darkened a little.

Wait...if this was made out of his shirt…

She felt her cheeks warm.

Oh.

The spices she was smelling was him.

They locked eyes, before they both turned away. She swore she was blushing down to her toes. And she never really blushed.

Damn you Giant.

He coughed, looking back at Will who was watching them very amused. “We’d better go little man,” Lucas said.

“Awww but I wanna stay a little longer!” He had wandered off to look at her herbs before exploring the clinic’s many tables. Currently he was looking at the deep grooves on the table.

Lucas caught her eye again. His eyes were still a vibrant blue. Reminded her of the water when it reflected the sky. “We don’t want to bother her anymore than we have,” he said with a low chuckle. “She’s very busy.”

“Not today I’m not!” she blurted out. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed his company. Teasing or not it was nice to be able to talk to someone.

Lucas paused, she bit her lower lip as she smiled nervously. “If you’d like, you can stay for tea. No one’s come in today, and so it’s been very...eerie. I’d appreciate the company.”

Lucas’ brows crinkled. She wanted to smooth out the lines. “Is...that okay?”

“Of course! I’m offering.”

Will grinned, grabbing her hand. “Well if she says we can stay it’s only polite! That’s what ya taught us, right Lucas?”

Lucas sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you guys listen to me and then you pull this crap.”

She chuckled. “As the little eel survivor says, it’s only polite.”

“Fine. We can stay for tea.”

She smiled broadly, leading them to her small backroom. There she kept a few extra aprons, gloves and her more powerful medicines (magic pills and all that) locked up tight.

She grabbed her kettle, settling on the fruity green tea she’d found in the market a while back but hadn’t had the chance to try. She hummed as she put it over her small stove.

Will was chatting with Lucas about the magic items she had strewn about. Lucas looked at her, pleading for help.

She laughed, answering the plea. “You like my charms?” she asked. “I had help making them.”

“You can do magic?” Will asked, eyes lighting up.

She was a little taken aback, but to a little kid, of course magic was...well, magic. She smiled. “Oh yes! I can do all sorts of things. Takes a bit out of me, but I can do some illusions, I know some healing. Herbal magic is fun. And palm reading was just something my sisters and one of my cousins picked up on.”

“Palm reading?” Giant asked as the kettle started to sing.

She moved, putting some of the tea leaves in her infuser, letting it seep in the hot water for a bit.

“Yes, palm reading. It’s quite easy actually.” She brought the tea over to the table. She could bring glasses and the ice when the tea was steeped enough. “I can do a reading if you’d like,” she offered.

Will bounced up and down. “Can I help? Can I? Can I?”

Giant laughed. “Calm down little man, let’s let the fairy doctor do her thing first.”

She winked at Will. “I can teach you after I do his reading.”

Will grinned, sitting back. He wiggled in his seat. He was very energetic. It was refreshing.

Lucas held out his right hand, she reached forward, their fingertips brushing. “Your hands are cold,” he said, his hand jerking back a little.

She held firm as she laughed. “I’m aware.”

His palms were calloused. Rough under her touch. Scarred from hard labor. She traced the lines and creases on his hand. She felt his pulse jump under her fingertips as she brushed his wrist.

“Fire hands,” she said, meeting his eyes.

“Fire hands? What does that mean?”

“The type of hands you have. Our hands represent one of the four elements, just like astrology. Earth, air, fire, water. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands.”

She looked back down at his palm. She traced the length of his palm, and then her fingers danced over his own. “Fire hands show people to be passionate, confident, and industrious. Driven by desires and on a bad day you may lack tactfulness and empathy.”

“And what about your hands?” His voice was soft.

She looked at her hand, her fingers freezing over his own. “Mine are...water hands. In tune with my emotions, intuition, and psychic ability. Fueled by compassion and imagination, often creative. Also extremely sensitive and my feelings are easily hurt, causing undesirable interpersonal stress.”

He chuckled.

She brushed the edge of his hand by his pinky. “Marriage line.” Her fingers moved down to the long line below the marriage line, it curved up between his middle and index finger. “Love line.” Below that was a small curve starting at the flesh of his thumb meeting his palm. “Wisdom.” Two more lines, starting at the bottom of his palm. One curved to match the wisdom line, the other straight up to the middle of his middle and ring finger. “Career and life lines.” Small sun line.

She searched his palm for his health line. “What are you-” he cut himself off as she traced the broken up health line.

“Health.”

He paused at her touch, she could feel his heart beat race under her touch. “Well Thumbelina? What does my palm say?”

She breathed in, letting the air out with a sigh. “Love and marriage,” she started, tracing his love line again. His hand jerked under hers. “Line is long and curved. A happy long lasting love. But it’s all in your hands. Communication is key with this love.”

His eyes widened. “How can you tell?”

She winked. “I just can.” She brushed her thumb along his career line. “Career and business. You’re ambitious and have strong self-confidence. If you have a dream in your heart and you’ll work hard to see it come true.”

She bent closer to his hand. “Health. You’re easily tired. You exercise a lot but don’t take the breaks you need. Short breaks will keep you refreshed and healthy. Don’t forget to exercise even if it’s hard. Don’t forget to rest and take care of your body.”

He chuckled. “I think my work is all the exercise I need.”

“But you still work out?”

“...sometimes.”

“And do you rest?”

“...”

“Thought so.”

She smiled, looking at the last lines on his palm. “Your personality and mental state. Connected to life and health. You know your mind well, you adapt easily. With your adaptability people look to you to lead them. Though reading other people and their feelings is a challenge for you.”

She looked up at him to see his face.

But his face was close to hers.

And he looked back at her at the same time.

So their foreheads slammed together.

Hissing a yelp, she fell back, palm pressed to her forehead. He did the same, Will laughing at them both so hard he fell over.

“Well now we have matching bruises,” she said with a groan, making sure they didn’t break skin. No blood. Just a bruise. Goddess of the unholy stars did that hurt.

“My bad,” he wheezed, pressing a finger to the reddening skin. “You’ve got quite a noggin.”

She got to her feet, smiling a little. “Could say the same about yours.”

He watched her move back. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking about as she turned away from him. His forehead where they bonked heads was starting to turn red.

She got to her feet to go get ice and cups. She set three glasses down, pouring the tea over the ice. The ice cracked under the heat. She slid the glasses to the boy. Giant was still looking over his palm. Her fingers tingled from the small use of magic.

She handed his cup to him. He grabbed the cup from her hand, their fingertips brushing again.

There was a small spark of magic at the touch, making her jump.

He didn’t seem to feel it. Or was able to hide the fact he could. She wondered if he had magic, it was like a surge of something strong coming from deep within her. It was unfamiliar.

It had to be his.

Waving her thoughts off and ignoring the weird flutter in her stomach, she turned to Will, who was gulping down the tea like a dog to water.

She chuckled, holding out her hand. Her eyes were alight with the challenge and excitement she felt when she got to teach something. Her voice was low in pitch, but her tone was filled with lithe amusement. “So, wanna learn how to read palms?”

#the arcana #the arcana game #maevas #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #my writing #guess what I did #that roight #i wrote something #maeve in fact #did see lucas #with a friend this time #origins to the handkerchief I gave her in her og doctor design? hell yeah #okay okay imma peace out now #go write that self indulgent thing #if I can annoy dela with my oodles of writings #u can write/draw that thing that makes u happy #peace

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catchlalune · 4 years

Text

Original artwork here

a/n: Hello starbursts! Happy Juneteenth and I hope everyone is staying safe and still quarantining! This fic is very different from my usual works so I need to preface this in my authors note that all of the characters in the story are pretty awful. If you find yourself in any of these situations PLEASE seek help. I wrote this to highlight these issues and you should think of it much like a modern day Romeo and Juliette story (and what I mean by that is that everyone in that story was incredibly dense and really could’ve solved a lot of their issues by talking and working through things together.) Thank you to @skzctnightnight and @pockpop for actually helping me maintain my motivation for finishing writing in an actual day. (also tagging @jejublr )

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairings: Lucas x Reader

Genre: Angst, CEO! Au, Arranged Marriage

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, smut, abusive relationship (this is not between the reader and Lucas), this again is to highlight how awful people can be this is an extremely toxic scenario so please don’t read if you will be triggered. Also not proofread yet but I plan on fixing it later

This is not in any way, shape, or form meant to say that I believe Lucas is like this in the slightest. I am using his likeness to portray a completely fictional character and that is all.

The entirety of the two years she has spent with Lucas culminates to the two of them in this moment. The sinful sounds the two of them make as skin slaps on skin. The feel of him inside her. Everything is hot and wet and passionate. As passionate as the kisses they’ve always shared. As hot as the sun on their skin as they sit and laugh in the sun, Lucas’ parents included. As wet as the rain as it pours outside, slapping on the pavement in hard droplets.

They say that if it rains on your wedding day it means the relationship is meant to last forever. But what does it mean when it happens on a day of goodbyes? Are you fated to never say hello again?

Whatever it means does not matter much to the two of them. Lucas is too busy coaxing his cock in and out of her to think of much other than their combined pleasure. They draw this out for as long as they possibly can. They know what will happen when they finish. But still Lucas must bring her to the apex of her pleasure, circling her throbbing bud as he stoaks the fire inside her belly. Her toes tingle, eyes shut tight and breathing ragged. Her fingers pinch and rub at her nipples until she's shaking.

She comes undone with a sweet groan, gripping him until he releases into the condom.

They lay there in the darkness of the night, the only illumination being the red of the alarm clock on Lucas’ bedside table. Glaringly it tells them the time but they ignore it as it looks in on them. It judges silently as the time reaches hours close enough for the sun to claw its way above civilization. They grasp for each other in the post-coituous haze. It does not matter, no matter how tightly they cling.

“I want to stay like this forever.” His whispers sound like music to her ears, the song of a siren.

She does not answer him, anything she wants to say is caught in her throat. The memories that flood her mind hurt her before his words even can. Distinctly she remembers his mother telling her about the arranged marriage proposal from before he was even a child. Lucas doesn’t even know, she hadn’t even known up until two weeks ago. Their two year relationship had suddenly been reduced to nothing by those words. And his mother had been so casual about it, telling her as they searched for Lucas’ birthday present as if it was nothing more than an afterthought. ‘And by the way, you will never be able to have my son. Not completely.’

She doesn’t realize the sobs that wrack her until Lucas pulls her close. He coos at her about how she always gets so emotional after sex. He jokes, tries to lighten the mood but nothing will quiet her mind. Not really. She knows that their graduation tomorrow means the end of this, of them. She knows she should at least tell him why, but she can’t bring herself to say the words.

Instead she lets him hum the both of them to sleep, Lucas feeling bad about not being able to cure her of whatever ails her. She speaks to him after a brief period of rest, words hardly above the sound of the rustling of sheets.

“Maybe we could’ve been, in another world.”

By the time he wakes the sun is just rising over the horizon, alarm clock blaring, and the bed cold. He doesn’t have to wait long to find out she is no longer with him. Some part of him feels the dread, knows something must’ve been wrong but he tries to brush it off. He does a good job of it too until he realizes he can’t reach her. Her number automatically disconnects, her things are no longer at her dorm room, and he doesn’t even catch a glimpse of her at graduation. When it is time for her to walk the stage there is a pregnant pause and the name of the graduate. He can’t imagine what must have happened to make her miss her own college graduation but he can’t even find the time to worry. Not when his parents are there and tell him the truth.

---

“If I have to listen to another man tell me about how to run my own business I just might shoot myself in the foot.”

Already the span of time has reached six long years. Leaving him was a decision she did not pride herself on. Some nights ended with dreams, ghosts of memories too long passed. Echoes of a time she felt safe, felt confident. Now she stands in the lobby of a convention center trying to figure out which panel would aggravate her the least. Two more long days she would have to deal with the misogyny, usually her patience wouldn’t be so thin but she hasn’t been able to sleep very well recently. She wakes up with the feel and taste of him on her. She feels dirty.

“I agree, we can do it together.” The woman-- who she hadn’t noticed-- smiles at her so brightly it makes her a bit uncomfortable. She was very pretty, the image of most men’s dreams probably. Perfectly manicured nails, long pin-straight hair, skin a milky complexion, lips a shade of pink that was not too bold and not too flirty. The woman also wears a dress she vaguely remembers seeing in a high fashion magazine not too long ago whilst waiting at the doctor's office-- in another word: expensive. She feels a bit embarrassed to have said that so loud where others could obviously hear her. It was obvious she was being watched, she was a woman in a man's world she was always being watched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it. Your secret is safe with me!” The woman takes a moment to wink at her, she shifts on her feet still feeling a bit awkward. “My name’s Jaeun, you’re the CEO of Xuxi’s Publishing Group, correct? I’ve been trying to find you all day.”

Jaeun launches into a story about how she’d stumbled upon her company and relaxes her enough for the two of them to have a conversation about things other than business. It had been such a long time since she had a friend and talking to Jaeun was extremely easy. Maybe it was the way she seemed so bright and bubbly, or even the way she navigated conversations with a natural grace. Whatever it was, Jaeun quickly became a staple in her life for the next two days.

And then it all comes crashing down on her, just like the rain on that night it rains the last day of the convention. It comes down so hard it resonates within the convention center. But that’s not what she’s focused on. Jaeun had offered for her to meet her husband and his parents excitedly yesterday after talking to her about the lack of business prospects. It was supposed to be relaxed and informal but she was on absolute high alert.

The years were kind to him in a way that she considered unfair. He was even more beautiful than the night she left him.

“There you are! This is my husband Lucas. I showed him your business proposal and he wants to have a meeting for a merger.”

It’s no more than a few days after the convention that he shows up on her doorstep in business casual attire that puts hers to shame. She’s not even sure if it was actually smart for them to be left alone together but she swallows the lump in her throat and lets in him. She offers him a plate of food that she made for their lunch but he declines. He does the same to her offer for water and coffee as well. He’s been there all of five minutes and already her palms are sweating. She almost feels silly as he tells her that she can eat, always feeling like the one taking instead of giving.

"Do you really like her as a friend?" A strange conversation for him to start, but he needed to vet her nonetheless.

"Yes." There is no doubt in her words, they are hard and come out leaving no room for doubt.

"Do you love and cherish her?"

"Of course I do, it's been so long since finding a friend like her." She fiddles with her fork wondering why this was being asked to her and not the other way around.

"You know I think she loves you too. I don't know about cherish, that's a good change word. It's just that her mom is so skeptical of everyone, it's better that she doesn't get too close."

"I know, but it doesn't change my answer. "

There's a brief pause between them before he speaks again, a small smile on his face.

"I almost wish I was in an arranged marriage with you. I think it would be easy to fall in love. Should I just end it with her? You know I could." He says it with such conviction it makes her heart flutter.

"Don't say things like that. Jaeun really likes you, she really wants to make it work." It almost sickened her how easy it was for him to just say those words to her. Maybe it was easy for him, but what about her friend? She was groomed her whole life for him. The way he would easily throw her away for another makes her resolve to forget the butterflies in her stomach that much stronger.

"Let's get down to business now shall we? You came here to talk about a merger." She looks at him with her eyes and jaw set and he knows. He knows he is going to fall into her head first and drown. He knows that she is so loyal to her morals and her friendship that she would willingly let any sparks for him fizzle out and die. He knows it, and yet the beating of his heart only gets faster.

"Let's."

She is exactly how he remembers her. And the way he remembers her is very intimate. If he closes his eyes he can faintly feel the way her body would meld perfectly against him. Lips laying kisses across the expanse of his visage. The smell of her, fresh and sweet; the smell of citrus and a hint of honey with jasmine blooms. He can still feel the way their hearts beat at each others ribcage, trying to find a way out and meld together. But they never did, and they never will.

It has already been two weeks since their meeting and business between them is going off without a hitch. But of course that's all that is going on between them, business. She is just as intelligent and bright as she always has been and it seems if only she had been dealt a luckier hand in life her business would've surpassed his years ago. He shouldn't be but she makes it so easy to remember their summer tryst. She makes it so easy to remember how he cares for her.

Even at the company dinner she makes it easy, she glides through the room as if on air. Her pantsuit hugs her body in all the right places. He takes note of how it makes her stand out, of the power she exudes just by making a not so orthodox outfit choice. Of course some of the men would think she was a hardass because of it, but when she saunters away with a pretty brunette and stay in the bathroom longer than socially acceptable they begin to think other things. Of course even if these things are true it's none of their business and he tells them just that. Reminding them of the company rules against harassment and intimidation.

This doesn't stop him from waiting for her though. After another ten minutes the brunette slipping out from the bathroom a satiated look on her face Lucas is waiting. He keeps his eyes trained on the bathroom door but when he feels it's been too long he doesn't wait anymore. It is a company wide policy that most bathrooms be gender neutral and luckily this was one such one. He makes his way quietly into the single toilet, he tells himself it's just to make sure that she's okay. But when he sees the way she looks he can't help but ask her.

"Did you have fun?" It's an innocent enough question but the implications of it are anything but innocent.

"Are you mad?" She doesn't even startle at his presence, as if she knew he would be looking for her. It takes him a second to really be able to answer her. He thinks about it long and hard.

"I can't be mad, because I was the one that let you slip away from me." He regards her with a soft wisftfulness that makes both their hearts ache. It hurts to look at her lipstick smudged and hair disheveled when he wasn't the one who's done it. He wonders if the woman she's just hooked up with knows.

"If I had held you longer, maybe you wouldn't have slipped out of the bed that night. We could've woken up to each other we could've-"

"You know that's not true. Don't even pretend for a second your parents would've given up your arranged marriage."

"We don't know that, we could've been more persistent! We could've begged." His eyes are alight, wild with all of the things he might have done to stay with her had he known it would hurt him this much.

"No, it wouldn't have changed anything. Just like every other rich person the only thing you and your whole family value is money and power. It doesn't matter how much they liked me." The words come out of her mouth as sharp as razor blades and they cut. They cut so deep and so hot it almost makes him dizzy. He knows she doesn't mean it, she's just upset because he'd almost caused her friendship to fall through. He deserves it but just because it was true about his parents doesn't mean it was for him.

"You don't understand how much I love you." He steps forward, tears threatening to pour down his beautiful face. She will regret her next words for the rest of her life. But she must say them even if they aren't true, even if they hinder her from happiness.

"I understand, but it's that my understanding does not matter. Jaeun loves you." Her words echo through different times and spaces it seems. They beat at the two of them brutally. They make it hard to breathe.

"Do you love me?" He steps closer, words falling from his lips like water from a faucet. They begin to flood the room with their intensity, the water is at their shins. She steps back.

"Jaeun loves you." A shake of her head and the room is flooded higher, the water at their hips now. He takes another step forward.

"Do you love me?" The words are at their chests now and she shakes her head again, tears mirroring the ones steaming down his face.

"Jaeun loves you." He stops when she is almost against the wall but doesn't proceed forward.

"Do you love Jaeun?"

"I do, with all that is in me. She's been my only friend through all of this. I can't betray her." The words are at their throats now, they choke her so that her speech is airy and labored. They press at her chest. He knew that he would drown in her, he just didn't realize he would never be saved.

"But loving me, you already have." He steps away and she can already breathe better when her senses aren't so full of him.

"I never said-"

"You didn't have to." The smile he gives her is preposterously solemn for such a wide showcase of his teeth.

"Jaeun loves you." She whispers back to him, head bowed and eyes looking at the shiny leather of his shoes.

"I know, but I love you. " He turns away from her and begins his exit and subsequently his descent into madness. Every step he takes from her causes her to fall just a bit closer to the floor, by the time he is gone she is already on her knees gasping for air.

Jaeun waits for him outside the room with an eerily stoic face. He knows she has heard everything but he doesn't care, he hopes she wants a divorce but to his surprise she offers him her usual smile. Normally he'd think it was full of charm but her words...her very words tell him she was simply a snake all along.

"Let's go home, I'll help you forget about her."

They were so caught up in the turmoil of their relationship they hadn't even seen the signs. The seeds that Jaeun had sowed. And now, they played right into her hand. But for her sake, he'd do everything to make sure she wouldn't find out.

"I don't need or want whatever it is you're offering me. What I want is for you to get the fuck away from me." His words come out scathing, he puts every bit of malice he can into each and every letter. But it just makes Jaeun laugh, she then fixes him with a look so sinister it almost makes him shiver.

"Don't be silly. The second the two of you got together there was already a due date on your relationship. You were never meant to be forever, there was a deadline and it ended exactly when I decided it to. Really it's your fault for ever getting involved with her in the first place." She ends it with a sneer marring her pretty features and so loud he hushes her fearing that his lover might hear.

"Is it really my fault?" The thought seems ludicrous to him but all Jaeun needs is that inch of doubt in his voice to take it a full mile.

"Of course it is baby, you're just as awful as I am. But it's okay, I forgive you." He lets her pull him away after that, head so clouded with her words he can barely manage to walk correctly. It was true, he knew he was getting an arranged marriage and his parents knew but still he…

He would make sure that she'd be happy anyway he could even if it meant being in a relationship with Jaeun.

The years spread between them like a desert, sands of time speeding up and slowing down in frequent intervals that they can't change though sometimes they wish they could. Lucas' marriage to Jaeun is nothing more than a facade and his deserves an Oscar for his performance every time she comes around. Sometimes he wonders why Jaeun keeps her if she doesn't really see her as a friend but then remembers that Jaeun is cruel and enjoys watching the two of them pine. Whenever he kisses Jaeun he feels her lips ghosting across his own. Whenever he touches Jaeun he feels her skin soft and supple. Whenever he fucks Jaeun he really wishes he could make love to her. And whenever he sees their daughter though he loves her to death, he wishes her mother was another woman. He especially wishes it when she comes around to babysit.

Jaeun takes her cruelty to a whole new degree when she begins to ask her "friend" to babysit for her. 'She's just so tired and Lucas is always so busy.' And it isn't entirely a lie, but Lucas had long since been working from home just to be able to catch a glimpse of her in passing. He didn't think his heart could ache more but it does the moment he hears it. He watches from around the corner to the kitchen, peering in and spying like a shadow.

"Mommy can we have chicken for lunch?" His daughter had just begun to learn how to enunciate her words better. Four years old and Jaeun had hardly stepped in to care for the child, she wasn't a mother any more than she was a wife this much was evident from their daughters words.

"I'm not your mommy darling, you can call me auntie though." She bends down to pat Jisoo on the head. Eyes tender with a longing she could not put into words.

"But you act like a mommy, can't you be my mommy? Can we please have chicken?" The four year old pouts up at her, Lucas nearly swoons. Everyone knows that it's true, even the maid and butler agreed she was a much better fit for Jaeun at motherhood. But secrets should never be uttered aloud.

"We can have chicken Jisoo, but you can't keep calling me that. At least not in front of everyone." Jisoo lights up at the prospect of some kind of compromise.

"Does that mean I can still call you mommy?" She hushes the child and leans in close to her. Lucas has to strain to hear the words that come from her.

"Yes, but only when we're alone and you have to be very quiet. It'll be our little secret, promise?" She holds out her pinky for Jisoo to wrap her smaller one around.

Lucas returns to his office with a smile on his face, something he'd not worn in such a long time the staff gave him strange looks, whispers of rumors beginning. It made no difference to him, he'd just been so happy to keep their secret safe. A secret made for two.

#wayv scenarios #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #lucas scenarios #lucas smut #xuxi scenarios #xuxi smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop angst #wayv angst #nct angst #nct wayv #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: manipulation #tw: abusive relationship

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padawanlost · 4 years

Note

What was your take on Dave Filoni's speech on the Duel of Fates & Qui-Got Jinn?

I’m surprised people were shocked by that. I mean, he didn’t say anything new.

His take is the same take that has been explored since TPM came out. I don’t know if people shocked by it are new fans who weren’t around when the movies came out or didn’t have access to the interviews/EU or of if they are in deep denial about the characters portrayed on screen.

“What’s at stake is really how Anakin’s going to turn out, because Qui-Gon is different than the rest of the Jedi.”

FACT since 1999. We know Qui-Gon was a ‘rebel’ since TPM came out. He’s even known as a ‘maverick jedi’ for that very reason, with multiple novels and comics exploring that side of him. Hell, he was Dooku’s apprentice, a guy known for being one of the Council’s biggest critics even when he was still a Jedi Master.

“Obi-wan: Do not defy the council, Master, not again. Qui-Gon: I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan. Obi-wan: If you would just follow the code, you would be on the council.” The Phantom Menace, 1999.

You get that in the movie, and Qui-Gon is fighting because he knows that he’s the father that Anakin needs, because Qui-Gon hasn’t given up on the fact that Jedi are supposed to care and love and that that’s not a bad thing.

FACT since 1999.

He was angry that the Jedi Master would dismiss him so abruptly in favor of the boy, but he realized, too, the depth of Qui-Gon’s passion when he believed in something. Training this boy to be a Jedi was a cause Qui-Gon championed as he had championed no other in Obi-Wan’s memory. He did not do so to slight his protégé. He did so because he believed in the boy’s destiny. Obi-Wan understood. Who could say? Perhaps this time Qui-Gon was right. Perhaps Anakin Skywalker’s training was a cause worth fighting for. [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace – published in 2000]

That Filoni himself reinforces in 2013 during an interview about TCW’s season 5: “I’ve always felt that one of Anakin’s downfalls, like it’s never that Anakin was innately going to be evil, but the people around him, the Jedi, in their lack of compassion, in being so selfless that they almost forgot to care.” Dave Filoni

The rest of the Jedi are so detached and they’ve become so political that they’ve really lost their way and Yoda starts to see that in the second film. But, Qui-Gon is ahead of them all and that’s why he’s not part of the council, so he’s fighting for Anakin.

FACT since 1999.

“With Episode I, I didn’t want to tell a limited story. I had to go into the politics and the bigger issues of the Republic and that sort of thing. I had to go into bigger issues.” George Lucas

In The Phantom Menace one of the Jedi Council already knows the balance of The Force is starting to slip, and will slip further. It is obvious to this person that The Sith are going to destroy this balance. On the other hand a prediction which is referred to states someone will replace the balance in the future. At the right time a balance may again be created, but presently it is being eroded by dark forces. All of this shall be explained in Episode 2, so I can’t say any more!- CUT interview 09/07/99?

“The first film starts with the last age of the Republic; which is it’s getting tired, old, it’s getting corrupt. There’s the rise of the Sith, who are now becoming a force, and in the backdrop of this you have Anakin Skywalker: a young boy who’s destined to be a very significant player in bringing balance back to the Force and the Republic. George Lucas - from the American ANH VHS tape in the making of Episode II in the 2000 release.

[The Jedi] sort of persuade people into doing the right thing but their job really isn’t to go around fighting people yet there are now used as generals and they are fighting a war and they are doing something they really weren’t meant to do.They are being corrupted by this war, by being forced to be generals instead of peacemakers. – George Lucas for E! Behind the Scenes - Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith

That’s one of the few times in history when the bad guys were very clearly delineated for us. There really was a fight for survival going on between pretty clearly good guys and bad guys. The story being told in Star Wars is a classic one. Every few hundred years, the story is retold because we have a tendency to do the same things over and over again. Power corrupts, and when you’re in charge, you start doing things that you think are right, but they’re actually not. . – George Lucas

That’s why it’s the duel of the fates, it’s the fate of this child and depending on how this fight goes, Anakin, his life is going to be dramatically different.

If good and evil are mixed things become blurred - there is nothing between good and evil, everything is grey. In each of us we have balanced these emotions, and in the Star Wars saga the most important point is balance, balance between everything. It is dangerous to lose this. – George Lucas

"So, Qui-Gon loses, of course, so the father figure, he knew what it meant to take this kid away from his mother when he had an attachment and he’s left with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan trains Anakin at first out of a promise he made to Qui-Gon, not because he cares about him. Obi-Wan trains Anakin at first out of a promise he makes to Qui-Gon, not because he cares about him.

FACT since 1999. We literally see this in the movie.

He stopped his pacing and stared momentarily at nothing, thinking of Qui-Gon Jinn, his Master, his teacher, his friend. He had failed Qui-Gon in life. But he would carry on his work now, honoring him in death by fulfilling his promise to train the boy, no matter what. [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace]

When they find Anakin on Tatooine, he says, “I feel like we’ve found another useless lifeform.” He’s comparing Anakin to Jar Jar. And he’s saying, “This is a waste of time. Why are we doing this? Why do you see importance in these creature like Jar Jar Binks and this 10 year old boy? This is useless.”

FACT since 1999.

So he’s a brother to Anakin, eventually, but he’s not a father figure.

“He is like my brother. I cannot do it.” Obi-wan Kenobi in Revenge of the Sith.

This, then, is Obi-Wan and Anakin: They are closer than friends. Closer than brothers. Though Obi-Wan is sixteen standard years Anakin’s elder, they have become men together. Neither can imagine life without the other. The war has forged their two lives into one. [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

[With Ahsoka] I wanted to develop a character who would help Anakin settle down. He's a wild child after [Attack of the Clones]. He and Obi Wan don't get along. So we wanted to look at how Anakin and Ahsoka become friends, partners, a team. When you become a parent or you become a teacher you have to become more respnsible. I wanted to force Anakin into that role of responsibility, into that juxtaposition. I have a couple of daughters so I have experience with that situation. I said instead of a guy let's make her a girl. Teenage girls are just as hard to deal with as teenage boys are. - George Lucas

That’s a failing for Anakin, he doesn’t have the family that he needs. He loses his mother in the next film. He fails on this promise that he made to his mother that 'I will come back and save you.' So he’s left completely vulnerable and Star Wars is ultimately about family.

FACT since 2002.

“Love people. That’s basically all Star Wars is.” — George Lucas

So, that moment in that movie, which a lot of people diminish as a cool lightsaber fight, but it’s everything that the entire three films in the prequels hangs on, is that one particular fight and Maul serves his purpose and at that point died before George brought him back.But he died, showing you how the Emperor is completely self-serving. He doesn’t care, he’s using people and now he’s gonna use this child.

FACT since 1999.

Each Sith has an apprentice, but the problem was, each Sith Lord got to be powerful. And the Sith Lords would try to kill each other because they all wanted to be the most powerful. So in the end they killed each other off, and there wasn’t anything left. So the idea is that when you have a Sith Lord, and he has an apprentice, the apprentice is always trying to recruit somebody to join him — because he’s not strong enough, usually — so that he can kill his master. That’s why I call it a Rule of Two — there’s only two Sith Lords. There can’t be any more because they kill each other. They’re not smart enough to realize that if they do that, they’re going to wipe themselves out. Which is exactly what they did.” George Lucas

Everything that Filoni said has been part of the lore and movies for 20 years now, so I really don’t get why people are so shocked by it. Also, context people! People have been using Disney canon to ‘prove’ Filoni wrong but these movies and the clone wars were written with long before Disney came into play. Filoni, like so many of us, grew up with Star Wars belonging to George and that colors how he look at the franchise and the characters. And don’t get me started on the ‘the EU doesn’t matter’ argument because it absolutely does.

“And then George Lucas tells me one day, ‘We’re gonna put the Mandalorians in the Clone Wars.' And I go 'Oh boy. That’s interesting. Cuz, lemme show you this.' And I move this big pile of material over and I said 'This is everything. This is everything that the Mandalorians are right now.’ And so George and I do what we always do when we come across something that I know exists well in the EU, we go over it all.“ Now, all the history of Mandalore you prior to The Clone Wars⁫ it does exists. It absolutely exists.” — Dave Filoni

There’s actual behind the scenes footage of Filoni and George Lucas working on The Clone Wars and checking the EU to keep everything as cohesive as possible. The guy literately had thousands of conversations with George Lucas – the guy who actually created Star Wars – about these characters but somehow people are now trashing him because he said they should’ve know already?

Look, anyone who knows me know I’m not a Filoni stan but I believe in respecting people’s work and giving credit where credit is due even when I don’t agree with them 100%. If they don’t like his take, fine, that’s their right but please tone down the outrage fest because it’s entirely unjustified (and, to be completely honest, a little desperate for validation). He’s an actual person, not a fictional character there for you to hate or stan.

There’s a lot I don’t agree with it in this life but I don’t go around attacking real people and their jobs. But maybe we shouldn’t be so surprised, considering the people going after Filoni are the same people who have not problem whatsoever with star wars authors receiving death and rape threats.

#ask #anon #dave filoni #sw meta #anakin skywalker #meta: fandom #meta: anakin #txt

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Stork Job

leverage 1.06

Joe: Where is he? What have you done with him?

Dana: Why haven't you returned our calls?

Joe: Did you think we'd just go away?

Dana: We’ve given you the money. What else do you want? (approaches Irena) What have you done with Luca?!

(thug grabs Dana and pushes her aside)

Joe: Dana!

(Joe goes to help Dana and is stopped by the thug. Joe punches the thug, who then beats him into the ground as Irena and Nicolas walk away. Thug leaves, and Dana crawls to his side)

yo can we take a moment to respect and love these parents??? like technically luca was just a kid they were going to adopt but these two were ready to THROW DOWN for him because even though they didn’t really know each other, he was going to be their kid if that’s the last thing they did

- - - - -

Dana: $120,000. We had to take a second mortgage out on the house.

Nate: Well, we can get the money back.

Dana: We don't want the money. All we want is Luca.

Nate: Right. (looks at picture of Luca)

we love to see the clients being noble as hell

- - - - -

Eliot: Are we seriously considering this, huh? Swiping a kid?

Nate: Yeah, well -- What happened to you?

Eliot (scrapes on his face): Well, how was I supposed to know it was a lesbian bar?

...I bet it was from something fucking stupid

eliot “distinctive” spencer would have known it was a lesbian bar

(edit: I heard that on the commentary for that episode CK got the injury from trying to play football while wearing cowboy boots and honestly what a chaotic fav)

- - - - -

Eliot: How do we even know this kid is an orphan?

Parker: See him pocketing those cookies? He’s hoarding food. That bag on the table -- he keeps his essentials light and portable. He knows he's gonna be taken away at any moment. And there, when she goes to touch him, he flinches. He’s expecting… for her to... Trust me. He’s an orphan.

parker’s Tragic Backstory™ is about to be told in 40 minutes, let’s go

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey, can we -- can we stop off in Paris on the way?

Nate: Uh... maybe on the way back.

Sophie: Cool

sophie loves paris and was so happy and excited im-

- - - - -

Parker: Yes. And she's with someone.

Eliot: That’s never stopped me before

parker, rolling her eyes: bruh

- - - - -

sophie being “princess magda of slovenia” rb if u agree

- - - - -

Nate: You know, just hurry up.

Hardison: It’s not so fun working in the crappy command center, is it? No, see, you're usually off doing your European spy thing. Well, welcome to my world.

(Computer shows facial recognition program working on picture Eliot sent. Hardison offers Sophie a bottle of pop)

Hardison: Orangescu?

even in a foreign country hardison manages to get something akin to orange soda

- - - - -

Sophie: Who was it? -- Dagmar from the car-rental place was a lovely girl, but listen, Irina’s a professional grifter. She's gonna see straight through your moves. She does this for a living. You know, gets people to like her and trust her, even to fall in love with her. She doesn't do this for sport.

Nate: Mm. Sounds like someone I know.

s a v a g e

- - - - -

Nicolas: Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Tell me, Hardison, what brings you to Serbia?

Hardison: Oh, do my fangs and cape frighten you

hardison being Done™ with a skeevy guy hitting on parker and making jokes to ease the tension 🥰

- - - - -

parker says that sleeping is one of her hobbies and honestly bitch me too

- - - - -

Parker: It’s amazing how far Serbia’s come, but the scars must still be there. I mean, all the families who suffered during the war.

Nicolas: Yes, but history always has its casualties.

Parker: Yes, but those families and those children.

Nicolas: It’s tragic, yes. But the strong, the smart, the... the beautiful, they survive.

[Flashback]

(Joe, Dana and Luca on home move.)

Joe: Smile!

Dana: Smile.

(A young Parker swinging, cuts to Luca sitting in the car that will take him away, cuts to young Parker on a merry-go-round, cuts to Luca being driven away)

Woman: What’s wrong?

(a young Parker in a car holding her bunny, cuts to Nicolas driving the car that takes Luca away)

Nicolas: It’s time to go.

[American Embassy]

Nicolas: Not everyone is worth saving.

(Parker gropes behind her and grabs a fork from the table, stabbing Nicolas with it. Everyone in the room looks in their direction)

parker’s past is developed a lot in this episode and we love to see it + bby you can stab anyone you want

- - - - -

parker fucking yeeting out the window is me after I do anything remotely embarrassing

- - - - -

Eliot: I’m lucky to have you on such a short notice. (takes paper from man) Zhavaliti. Is that right? Zhavaliti? Thank you? See? Yeah? No? Welcome to the set.

Hardison: Fire in the hole!

(Hardison sets off explosion of flame behind them)

Eliot: Yeah, it's exciting, isn’t it?

Irena: yes.

Eliot: That guy's our special-effects guy. He ain't all there.

friendship means gently bullying each other

- - - - -

Parker (sits down near prop truck): This is ridiculous.

Hardison (sits down next to her with fake gun): Tell me about it. We’re supposed to believe these are real?

Parker: This is what he expects me to do, fetch scripts and water?

Hardison: No, it's a trust thing. He just needs to know that you’re gonna go along with the game plan.

Parker: Yeah, yeah. I get it; we're a team.

Hardison: A little more than a team. I’m just saying

this was such a big episode for parker and her opening up to the team (hardison in specific)

- - - - -

Hardison (picks up papers): Sophie, are you -- seriously, Sophie. It was supposed to be a two-page scene between Irina and a boy.

(Eliot grabs pages)

Sophie: That’s still the heart of it.

Eliot: "The heart of it"? There’s like 10 pages here! You have a stunt. You have special effects.

Parker: "Sister Magda crosses and gets a loaf of bread." Wait, who's sister Magda?

(Sophie rolls out dramatically wearing a nun’s costume while ethereal music is playing)

Hardison: Tell me you didn't see that coming.

(Eliot grabs the pages and walks away)

sophie: is dramatic

eliot: surprised pikachu face

hardison: ??? were you expecting something else

- - - - -

Sophie: Listen. All right, look, look -- look at all this. This is my world, okay? You need -- you need someone to, I don't know, crawl through an air duct, you call Parker. Bash her head in - Eliot. Internet porn -- Hardison. If you need someone to take over a movie, then...

Nate: yes, an -- an actor. Right

sOpHiE bRuH

poor hardison, he never gets enough credit

- - - - -

Nate: And... cut!

(everyone claps, Sophie sits up, smiling)

Eliot: She can't act.

Nate: She can act when it's an act.

Eliot (going to Sophie): Unbelievable.

Sophie Really?! Really?!

Eliot: Yeah, really. It was great.

eliot is such a supportive friend because literally his jaw dropped at her acting and literally the first thing he did when they said cut was rush over to her and compliment her

eliot is secretly a hype man disguised in many layers of gruff

- - - - -

Hardison: Just take it slow until she leads you to Luca.

Parker: I can't believe they sent you to babysit me.

Hardison: I’m here on my own

hardison cares about her so quickly I’m soft

- - - - -

parker’s haunted look and glassy eyes when she stumbles into the room with all the children? her heavy breathing? how she has to brace herself on a bed frame so that she doesn’t fall over? heartbreaking

- - - - -

[Harbor]

(van pulls to a stop and Parker and Hardison get out, Parker pacing nervously)

Parker: This isn't just an adoption scam.

Hardison: I know. I already called Nate.

Parker: These are arms dealers, and they're using the orphanage for cover.

Hardison: I already called Nate. Now, look, we can go over this with the others back at the hotel.

Parker: We have to bail.

Hardison: No. no, no, no. What about Luca and the others? We can't leave them like that.

Parker: Why not?

Hardison: You don't mean that.

Parker: You think this is the only crappy orphanage in this place? This is a country full of orphans, okay? We can't save them all.

Hardison: No, but we can save this one. Parker, we can -- we can save this one. Look, I know growing up was tough. I-I know that you -- you grew up in the system. It was -- it was bad. I know. It was, it was worse than bad, but that doesn't mean that all foster parents are monsters. Mine wasn't.

Parker: You grew up with your grandmother.

Hardison: We called her "nana," but she was our foster mom. She, uh... she -- she would cuss like a sailor. The old girl would tan your ass just as soon as look at you. But -- but she fed us, she bathed us, she put a roof over our head. And, oh, she would raise hell if you so much as looked at us crooked.

Parker: Yeah?

Hardison: Yeah.

Parker: Well, you were lucky. No. We’ll put these kids in the system, and odds are, they're gonna -- they're gonna... (trying not to cry) they're gonna turn out like me.

Hardison: I like how you turned out.

(Parker breathes hard, getting control of herself)

Hardison: Let’s go

this whole conversation was a lot meta wise but also this was one of the real defining moments in their relationship in s1. it’s also one of the first times parker starts to open up to the team for real, even if it’s only hardison

also, I personally will never get over the “I like how you turned out”

- - - - -

Hardison: I ran humpty and dumpty through the usual databases. Chechen separatists. Seriously bad dudes.

(Eliot chuckles)

Hardison: After reading their bios, I don't think I’m ever gonna sleep again.

Eliot: Never tell a Chechen his sister has a nice smile. Trust me

eliot is an idiot

- - - - -

Nate: Okay, let's go. (leads Luca forward)

Sophie (in Serbian): Everything’s going to be okay. Do you understand?

Eliot: Maybe this will help.

(Eliot leads Luca over to the Mortons)

Dana: Hi, Luca. Do you remember us?

(Luca smiles, Dana hugs him)

Dana: Thank you.

Joe: Thank you so much. Come on.

(The Mortons and Luca get in their car)

Eliot: I got to tell you, I had my doubts at first, this feels pretty good

and the eliot-being-soft-around-kids saga B E G I N S

- - - - -

parker trying her best to translate but just making the kids giggle

“men will sadden you” same

and what gets the kids up and going? Haagen-Dazs

- - - - -

fierce, determined parker beating up scumbags is my sexuality

parker isn’t violent a lot in terms of being anywhere close to the team’s fighter/hitter, but she fights so hard for the kids in this episode and it’s one of the only times we see her fight fight and that shows just how much she cares

- - - - -

Parker: Shh, shh, be quiet, they have armed guards at that door.

(door bursts open and a man falls through. Eliot stands in the doorway, looking angry)

Sophie: No, they don't

her team always has her back, even if they’re angry at her trying to go at it alone

- - - - -

parker spreading herself out to cover as much space as possible, bracing herself to get shot over and over with the hopes that at least none of the kids will im-

she’s so selfless sksjdnnsns

- - - - -

eliot being all gruff that things happened the way they did but smiling at the exploding building because they did it and the kids were safe

- - - - -

THE FUCKING PROP TRUCK PLAYING SPOOKY AND WEREWOLF NOISES AS THEY DRIVE AWAY JUST TO MOCK THEM

bonus: nate’s “anD CUT”

- - - - -

Parker: Hey, how did you know I’d be at the orphanage?

Nate: Thank Hardison for that. (follows Eliot)

Hardison: You know you could have gotten killed. Did -- did you even have an exit strategy?

Parker: I didn't really think that far ahead.

Hardison: You don't work alone anymore. You know that, right?

Parker: I know.

Hardison: We're a team…?

Parker: We're a little more than a team.

this important conversation but also HARDISONS SMILE

- - - - -

Parker: (gets on the van) Hey, Nate. I have to tell you something.

Nate: What is it?

Parker: We have to stop at Hagen Daaz.

Children: Hagen Daaz!!!

after all that they deserve like a billion pints of ice cream

#leverage #the stork job #leverage 1.06 #leverage 1x06 #notable moments #mine #leverage season 1 #season 1

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 5

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Benny’s is nothing special, Max thinks as they pull up into the mostly empty parking lot, which is nothing but a slab of concrete without any lines painted on it.

From the outside, it looks like a dingy old diner with about the same charm as the middle school cafeteria. On the inside, well, it’s just a dingy old diner with the same charm as a school cafeteria, with its greasy tiled floors and stained up old walls painted a sickening baby blue.

It’s about as full as you’d expect a place like that to be on Christmas Day, as in, other than a handful of elderly customers on the stools at the counter, they are completely alone.

They sit down at a cracking booth by the window, which Max notes was probably last cleaned before she was even born, and an older woman approaches them with a menu.

Steve must know her, chats up a storm about the daily special and school, about life in general and the old owner of the place before ordering for the both of them, and all the while Max just sits back and watches.

Even after the waitress comes back with a pot of coffee, and the two slices of pie Steve promised, she stays leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, watching.

There’s a tension burning under her skin, and she wants nothing to do with the pleasantries. If they were here to talk, then talk they would.

Steve goes to say something between bites of sugar cream pie, an Indiana specialty apparently, but Max cuts him off, her tone harsh. “Why did you bring me here?”

He looks confused, looking up as her with a stupid look on his face. “We’re avoiding the Christmas party?”

“Oh, sure, so you’re totally not trying to lay your claim now that my brother’s not here to stop you, right?” That might’ve been a little mean, but she doesn’t really know what to think right now.

He takes her to a remote location on the very edge of town when she’s supposed to be with a crowd of people because, what did he say, he didn’t want her to deal with them right now? She thinks she has the right to be concerned.

“I-No, I’m not.” Steve sits up straight in his seat. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

She nods over-exaggeratedly. “Is that before or after you make your move?”

There’s a certain pleading tone in his voice, one that obviously means he doesn’t want Max to think poorly of him, as he says, “Max, really I’m not trying to be a weirdo, I just figured you’d want to talk about Billy.”

She would be lying if she said hearing his name doesn’t take the air right out of her lungs. If just for a moment, she’s frozen.

Because nobody actually says Billy’s name anymore, just things like ‘your step brother’ or ‘Neil’s boy’. Sometimes Hargrove, and maybe even William once or twice, but never Billy.

It takes some effort for her to muster up the will to keep arguing after that, but Max has a retort at the ready, once she evens her breaths and moves past the initial shock. “What’s there to talk about? Everyone’s already forgotten about him anyways.”

“I haven’t.” Steve looks her dead in the eye, the most serious she’s ever seen him outside of a life threatening situation. “Don’t think I ever will.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, well, negative sentiments don’t count for much either.”

Everyone knows things were a little rocky between Billy and Steve, so she’s expecting him to rub it in her face that her brother was a bad person who beat people up for fun, or whatever the general opinion of those who didn’t know him was.

But Steve shocks her again by saying, “I never said that.”

And it's so beyond frustrating, talking in circles with Steve, that Max decides to cut her losses. Bites her tongue and sinks further back in the pleather booth, casting her eyes down to show him that she’s done with this.

If she would’ve known he’d be this annoying, she would’ve just made him take her to the Wheeler’s and leave her alone for the rest of her life.

But he doesn’t get the message, though shes not sure if he’s even smart enough to, because he keeps talking. “Me and Billy, we didn’t- we were friends, in the end.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it from me, but we all, you know, like, feel pretty shitty after a, um, a personal loss like this.” The words come out slow as he tries to think of the best thing to say, and it’s her instinct to cut him off, but Max listens.

“E-Especially when it’s someone we care about so much.” There’s a focused sort of look on his face, like he’s trying to get Max to understand that there’s some reason behind what all he’s saying. “Just, what I’m trying to get at is that, I think I understand that in a way probably no one else in your life does.”

That sentence is what finally makes it click into place for Max, the reason why Steve won’t just get on with it and say what he means, the reason she’s even here in the first place.

Because Steve lost Billy too.

She realizes that they must have had a thing. The kind that was kept secret, unknown by anyone but maybe a select few for their safety. A thing not much at all unlike what she and Lucas have.

Of course she knew about Billy, about the ex-boyfriends in Cali and the fake girlfriend he acquired last spring around the same time a paternal rage-induced scar appeared in his eyebrow, but she never would’ve guessed that he he had someone, and especially not for that someone to be Steve Harrington.

The realization hits her like a freight train. A snotty, teary-eyed freight train.

Just knowing that he hadn’t been able to show up at Billy’s funeral, or grieve in public the loss that to him must have been earth-shattering, and that he even had to tell her in vague secrets about his relationship to her brother, her heart hurts incredibly for Steve, and she sheds a few silent tears for him

But then there’s this other feeling, this creeping warmth of something like relief deep inside Max. To know she wasn’t alone in her misery or her heartbreak, she feels seen for the very first time since they’d put Billy in the back of that ambulance.

All in one morning, she’d gone from feeling so iced out by her grief, the singular embodiment of mourning being orbited by the ignorant, the selfish, the cruel, and now there were at least two other people out there in the world who could share that pain with her.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t such a humbug after all.

To say that Max doesn’t know what to say now would be the understatement of the century. She’s totally floored, her mind still slowly trying to recuperate from the weight of what Steve just confessed to her.

Eventually she’s able to get her thoughts in order enough to ask, “How long were you guys, like, cool for?”

“He apologized in December.” Looking down into his mug, he takes a sip of coffee, reminding Max that hers is getting cold. “Two months later we were friends.”

She knows what that really means, that ‘friends’ meant he and Billy had started dating in February, and suddenly a couple of things start to come together.

Like the time when Billy had taken her into the city with promises of a shopping spree, but only bought a couple of little gifts and a bouquet of fancy roses that she never saw again. And the days when she’d wake up for school and he’d be missing because he spent the night somewhere without telling anybody, so Susan would have to drive her. Or when she would find him with things too expensive for his pool wages, like a new pair of ray bans, obvious gifts from the secret admirer.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it Steve was behind all of that.

Despite the tears welling up in her eyes, Max decides to try to crack a joke. “Does this mean you’re my brother in law now?”

Steve returns it by shrugging and saying, “I guess it does, shitbird.”

There is a moment where Max allows herself to laugh with Steve, her quiet giggle echoing in their empty little corner of the diner, but in her heart, she feels a pang of guilt when she looks to the booth in front of her, and thinks about how Billy should be there with them too, with his own slice of pie and a whole life ahead of him.

So Max sniffles, a gentle tear sliding down her cheek when she blinks, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs heavily, and sets his cup down. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for, Max.”

The tears make her voice wobbly, and it hardly comes out as she asks, “Don’t you miss him?”

“‘Course I do. All the time.” Steve says softly.

“Then I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to try to hold back the sob that comes after.

She can be grateful that Benny’s isn’t a very popular hangout spot these days, so that the only ones around to hear her crying are a couple of geezers whose hearing is probably too poor to notice anyways and Steve.

“Hey, don’t,” Steve starts to say, but his voice cracks, and there’s tears streaking his cheeks to match those on Max’s.

It’s probably good for them, crying it out over pie and coffee, and there’s something about the whole thing that just feels so right to Max, being able to talk with somebody who’s felt exactly what she’s been going through for these five grueling months of isolation.

To her, it feels like this is just where Billy would want her to be.

Eventually they get it out of their systems, crying until there are no tears left, and with a final dab at their eyes with wadded up printed napkins, they’re good to keep going.

Max is the first to strike the conversation back up, having noticed something particularly familiar about Steve’s denim vest. She has a sneaking suspicion it’s not too much unlike the jacket she’s wearing, in that both articles had at one point belonged to her brother.

She nods her head towards him. “Is that Billy’s?”

“What?” Steve looks down at himself like he’s completely forgotten what he’s wearing. “Oh, yeah. He forgot it at my place ages ago.”

She smiles to herself and says, “He did that a lot, forgot things.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She nods assuredly and explains, “One time, he forgot to pick me up from school, and I didn’t have a bus pass so he had to drive all the way back and get me.”

“Sounds about like Billy.” There’s a warm smile spreading across Steve’s tear-stained face and an equally as warm chuckle. “You know I brought him here last year?”

Max raises an eyebrow and sips her coffee, but doesn’t say anything back. Steve continues in her place. “It was the night of the snowball, and, I’m sure you remember, his face was super messed up.”

“He wanted to talk, I told him we should come here, so we wouldn’t have to sit in his car.” Steve’s sort of staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “We sat at this booth, and that was when he apologized.”

He looks back at Max now to say, “He told me about you too. How last Christmas was different because he didn’t know how to make it up to you.”

“He really loved you, Max.” His voice is thick, like he might start crying again.

Hers is barely above a whisper as she returns the sentiment. “I’m not the only one.”

For the rest of the night until closing, they spent their time exchanging stories of their memories with Billy, of times when he’d made them happy that they felt inclined to share.

They talked about how clumsy he could be, how weird his sense of humor was, his favorite off the wall music, anything and everything that comes to mind that encapsulated the Billy they knew.

One thing they don’t feel the need bring up is abusive parents or accidents at the mall, because that’s not the Billy they want to remember him by. They just talk and talk until they felt as close to one another as they had been to her brother, to his lover.

Just before 10, being that they’re the only stragglers left and Benny’s is about to close, the woman from before who’d taken their orders shoos them out with her politest smile.

From behind the counter, she had watched very moment of their emotional exchange, and some of the cheer in her own heart had been awakened, so she sent them away with some more baked goods before closing up.

Steve takes the long way back to old Cherry Road, trying to stretch this out for as long as he can. They didn’t much talk about it, sure, but his knowledge of how things were in the Hargrove-Mayfield house was enough that he knows he doesn’t want to send Max back there, not yet.

There’s a comfortable silence settled over them in the front seat, no sound but tires on wet pavement and faint Christmas carols drifting quietly through the radio.

Everything they could’ve possibly needed or wanted to say had already been aired out at Benny’s, minus some of the less than subtle stories they didn’t think they should share, so they both just take the time to appreciate the peace.

He’s able to get Max another forty five minutes away from home, letting her settle down in her seat with the heat as high as it can go, taking her drearily down scenic routes and back alley ways, but he can’t delay it forever.

He wishes he could, that didn’t have to take her back there at all, but rather give her the same chance for her freedom from that house that he’d pleaded so desperately with Billy to take before it was too late, but that was a discussion he knew very well she wasn’t ready for.

They pull up outside of the house to see the lights still on, and Max gives him a weak smile before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

She shuts the door behind herself, but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t take any further steps to leave, and Steve doesn’t either.

Rolling down the bimmers window, Steve leans across the seat and says to her, “Listen, if you ever need anything at all just, please let me know. We can do this again anytime.”

She nods and stuffs her hands in her pockets, a look on her face like she’s deep in thought. Steve takes that as his cue that it’s time to leave.

One last smile, a “Merry Christmas, Max,” and he’s pulling away, leaving her to stand alone in the icy breeze.

Making sure he’s well and gone, the sight of his taillights no longer visible from where she's standing, Max takes the envelope that contains Maria’s card out of her pocket, rubbing her thumb over the back of the smooth red paper.

She doesn’t know why she kept it a secret. Of all people, Steve deserves to know, but she figures this is something she’s got to work through on her own.

The front door creaks open behind her, and Susan, dressed in a robe and with her hair up in curlers, calls her inside with scorn in her voice for being out so late.

But not even that can deflate the growing feeling in her chest, of camaraderie, of belonging, of having a friend worth more to her than her mothers bitterness could ever take away.

No, Max goes up the steps to meet her mother in the doorway not with fear or apprehension, but with a certain pride about her, one that might have even been compared to the very swagger that Billy would’ve carried himself with, were he the one to come home after his curfew to find Neil at the door.