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heauxzenji · 3 years

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Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it.

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?”

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger.

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in.

“Soooo?”

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic.

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote. The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs.

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts.

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs….” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself.

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room.

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking them in manically.

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout.

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…”

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do.

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you.

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?”

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth.

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

“Ev’n prettier.”

His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load. You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole.

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it.

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.”

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon.

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!”

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead.

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out.

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil.

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths.

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back.

“Hmmph- s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks.

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#cheese on’s greetings #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader #daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu headcanon #hq headcanons #hq writing #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fic #hq fic

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hoodharlow · 3 years

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La que se ríe de mis chistes aunque no sea cómico

AN: Remember when last year I told y'all I was planning an El Novio chapter where Cal anf Claudia in a Bad Bunny music video based on Canción con Yandel? Well the wait is now over :) sorry it took more than a year. ALSO THIS IS NOT PART OF THE QUARANTINE AU

Requested? By a few anons who hyped me up over a year ago lmao

Warnings: smut, Cal having an existential crisis about his career choices, nosy fans that see Cal having some down time with Claudia, and Cal finding out he's not Claudia's favorite soccer player

Word Count: 3.7 k words

Claudia's soft pleas of pleasure filled the suite as Calum attacked her neck.

He had her against the wall. Her dress bunched up at the waist. His hands disappeared beneath the skirt, holding her up by her thighs. He then nipped and sucked down to her chest. She arched her back, giving him better access.

Claudia grabbed his face and pulled his lips back to hers. He pushed his waist more into hers, steadying her, so she wouldn't fall. One of his hands held her by the waist while the other slid his hand inside her bra.

Claudia snorted when he honked her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered 'te amo' before kissing him again.

"Cut!" Benito yelled but Calum and Claudia were both lost in their kiss. A few spritz of water hit them. "Que ya," Benito said.

It wasn't the first time he had to stop them kissing.

They were in Puerto Rico. Before Calum and Claudia left to go see Medelyn and Danny at the hospital, Benito had asked Calum if he and Claudia wanted to appear in his music video. It was for an upcoming project that he was going to drop in a few weeks. Claudia agreed without giving it a second thought.

The video is about a couple that met at a party, but they've seen each other all the time. The character Claudia played is an aspiring dancer and Calum played a soccer player. When they meet, they instantly hit it off and later become a couple. The video overall shows how both of them are there for each other and support one another at reaching their goals.

"Calum, now you bring her to bed and lay her there. Then you're going to kneel over her and remove your shirt and her dress." Benito explained. "Good?"

"Yeah," Calum nodded. He looked down to Claudia. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, just don't honk my boob again." She said.

“No promises.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes at him.

Calum sat them on the chair while they waited for the camera crew to change from the handheld to a camera in the corner that's gonna capture them going from the wall to the bed.

"Places…" Benito twirled his fingers in the air. Everyone got quiet. Calum picked up Claudia and pushed her back on the wall. "Action!"

Calum and Claudia started to kiss again and without breaking it, he took them to the bed. He knelt in front of her and removed his shirt. He leaned over. His hands were already on her dress. But he wanted to add more pizzazz, so he kissed from the valley between her breasts all the way down to where her panties were. He gently tapped her thigh to remove the dress. Claudia jutted her hips up and in one swift move Calum dropped the dress on the floor. He climbed over her body and slowly kissed her.

"Cut!" Benito yelled just as Claudia pulled Calum to her neck. "We're gonna take an hour to get the other bed for the last of the bedroom scenes. From there we move onto the kitchen and living room."

The crew members cleared, leaving Calum and Claudia. Calum helped her with the dress. She didn't bother with buttoning the buttons because she had another scene that required her to be in her bra only. Hand in hand they wandered back to their trailer. Claudia went straight to the food table while Calum settled on a couch with a book. There were an assortment of candies, puddings, pastries along with a fruit platter and another platter of fried food. She took the Dulzura Borincana candy bags and stuffed them in her backpack.

"Did you get the coconut and guava ones?" Calum asked.

"Obvio, first bag I got." She winked at him.

***

Later that night, Claudia laid next to Calum, trying to get his attention. He wrapped an arm around her and continued to scroll through Twitter. A few fans were saying how there's a Duke look alike in San Diego. But it really was him. Danny and Medelyn were out hiking in Potato Chip Rock with Duke and Panchito. There was even a video of Danny putting Duke over his shoulders as they went back down.

"I miss Duke." Calum said. He locked his phone and turned it back on, revealing a picture of Duke and Claudia in his pool.

She hummed and wiggled closer to Calum. She was in his Sensation shirt and his favorite black panties: the replacement pair he ripped on his birthday the year before. She still replays that night when she's all alone in her bed. The way his tongue worked against her clit as his fingers fucked into her. She shook her head, she needed to think about anything but him going down on her.

Annoyed with his obliviousness, she grabbed his hand and guided it to where she needed him the most. She let out a soft moan once she felt his fingers in her panties.

"Is this what my pretty girl wanted? My fingers playing with her pussy?" He whispered in her ear.

"Yes," She moaned.

She laid on her back and opened up her legs, so he had better access. Calum slowly traced his fingers over her entrance. He was waiting for her to crack to beg for him. He swiped his fingers to collect her arousal. He slipped them in his mouth and moaned at her taste.

"May I have a proper taste, pretty girl?" He asked.

"Please,"

"Shirt off please." He said.

He loved watching her when he went down on her. How she scrambled to reach for something to anchor herself with. She sat up and pulled off her shirt. She jutted her hips up to remove her panties, but Calum moved her hands away. "I said shirt, not shirt and panties."

"Sorry,"

"I know you want me, but you gotta be patient, Claudia." He joked.

She rolled her eyes and laid back against the pillows. Calum got on top of her and captured her lips. She wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders and the other was tangled in his hair.

His fans have to thank Bad Bunny for bringing back Calum's brown curls, even if it’s just a temporary dye. He was Guy Fieri blonde but he had to dye his hair brown for the music video. Claudia preferred his buzzcut, but she does like tangling her fingers in his hair.

Calum pulled away from her lips and kissed down to her chest. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the lovebites on her chest, he kissed down her stomach to the band of her panties.

He sat back on his knees and pushed her legs open. Her arousal glistened through the lace of her panties. Claudia lifted her hips, so he could remove her panties. Calum slowly pulled them off and tossed them to the side. He licked his lips and placed her legs over his shoulders.

Shamelessly, he kissed her clit, making her moan. Then he wiggled his tongue at her entrance. He moaned out at her taste. To him it was the most delectable thing ever. He took his time with her. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. She gasped at his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair pulling it for relief.

"Fuck!" She moaned out. He sped up his fingers then he slipped them out of her and rubbed her clit, bringing her to her climax.

"Calum!" She repeated his name over and over as she came. Calum licked clean her release and laid back next to her. Claudia rolled over and placed her leg over his waist.

"I love you." She said softly. She stretched to peck his lips.

Calum pushed her hips so she was directly on top of his crotch. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Teasing touches here and there, only to end up wrapped up in each other's arms. Calum was hugging her back while Claudia placed her hands on his chest. She slowly moved her hips against him.

"I need you," Claudia said against his lips.

"Me too." He groaned, holding her hips to buck his into hers.

"Want me on top or?"

"Ride me. My arms are too tired from carrying you all day." Calum quickly caught what he said. "Not that I mind. Just want to—"

Claudia cut him off by kissing him. She reached between them and slowly stroked Calum. Then she lifted her hips, lining herself over his cock. She coated him with her arousal and stroked him a few more times.

She slowly slid all the way down his length. She moaned out at how good Calum felt inside her. She slowly rocked her hips against him, getting used to him. She slowly bounced herself up and down while continuing to rock her hips against his. He sat up and brought her closer to him.

“You feel so good, pretty girl." Calumn praised after a few minutes. "Fuck, you ride me so good."

Claudia's arms tightened around his neck. Calum bucked his hips upwards to meet her thrusts and she let out a soft moan.

"Feel so good, Cal. Only you can make me— Calum!" she whimpered. She felt his fingers in between her thighs, rubbing her clit.

Her orgasm came out of nowhere. She clung to Calum as she continued to ride him. He still kept thrusting into her through her orgasm. But he slowed down, letting her come back from orgasm only to take her once more.

She pulled his lips to hers. Their kiss was as messy as Calum's strokes. He was close.

"Please, Cal, come inside me. Want you to drip out of me." She begged.

He pushed himself deep inside of her and came.

"Claudia," He moaned. He held her hips in place and bucked his hips into her.

Still inside her, he laid her back and slowly pulled out of her. Their release dripped out of her.

Claudia dipped her hand and collected their release. She moaned as she cleaned her fingers. "We taste so good Cal."

"Yeah?" He asked. He grabbed her wrist and licked her fingers clean.

After a few minutes Claudia rolled off Calum and laid her head on his chest and wrapped an arm around his stomach.

"I love you." They both whispered at the same time. They shyly smiled at each other and giggled.

Claudia climbed off the bed and to the bathroom to clean herself off then he did the same. After he came back to bed, she crawled on top of him and closed her eyes. She felt the bed sheet over her body.

Minutes later, Calum felt Claudia's body limp. She was fast asleep. He grabbed her wrist, grabbing a hair tie. He twisted her hair as best he could into a braid and tied the end. He gently pushed her off him and laid her next to him.

He got out of bed to grab one of his flannels from her duffle bag and pulled over her arms. Then he picked up his boxers and put them on. Once Calum was back in bed, he joined Claudia into the deep slumber.

***

Claudia quietly entered their trailer after factimeing her dad who called her to yell at her for not letting him know she was Puerto Rico. Luckily for her, she managed to distract him by casually getting Chicharito to talk to him.

It was finally their last day of filming. The only sscens left to film were the soccer ones. They already got the scenes for when they met and when Claudia danced on various stages and theaters. After a long morning they took a break while the crew set up for the final soccer scene where Calum made it to the MLS.

Calum took a seat on the couch and she climbed to his lap. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes as he rubbed her back. She felt him take a deep breath and sigh.

"You okay?" She pushed herself off his chest.

"Just thinking."

"Can I ask what you're thinking about?"

“Not right now,” he leaned against her and whispered. “I need you.”

She knew Calum was in a mood where he just needed her. All day, she felt him tense. While filming, they had a few hiccups where he would miss the goal and kick the ball higher. It reminded her of how tense he got when the band filmed the Old Me video when they were in Australia. He was so out of it those few days. She knew he needed to let off some steam.

Everything happened all at once. Claudia was straddling Calum in only the custom LA Galaxy jersey they made with his last name on the back while he was shirtless and his pants and boxers were pooled around his ankles. Their mouths were everywhere, teasing and claiming each other.

Calum let out a frustrated grunt. Not because he was about to come with just Claudia sitting on top of him, but because he couldn't get hard.

"Cal, just relax for me," Claudia said softly. She held his cock on her hand and slowly stroked him. "Just focus on me, think of me riding you, my hands on your chest, as I bounce on your cock."

Nothing.

"Fucks sake." Calum mumbled. He gently pushed Claudia off him and pulled up his pants. He rubbed his temples and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"There's no reason for you to apologize. It happens." Claudia said. She leaned against the seat and watched him. "Did something happen while filming?"

"What if I made a mistake? What if I threw away my future in soccer for something that had no future?" Calum asked, but wasn't to Claudia. Those were questions he asked himself when he was younger. The few questions that kept him up at night when he felt like what he's doing wasn't enough.

He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. His hands were balled up into fists and he let out a big sigh.

Claudia didn't know how to respond. She knew soccer was a touchy subject for him. When the guys mentioned it during the Old Me video planning, he argued with Ashton on why they needed to bring up that part of his past.

She tugged on her shorts and pulled her knees up. She reached for his hand and smoothed out the fist. She intertwined her fingers with his and gently kissed his knuckles. She let go and cupped his cheeks, squishing his cheeks playfully.

"Cal, look around. Do you know where you are?" She asked him. Not letting him answer, she continued. "You're on the set of a Bad Bunny music video. Just two weeks ago you released your fourth album. Fourth, Cal. Not one, not two, not even three. Four. How many artists can say that they have a fourth album? Not many. It takes so much discipline, talent and ambition to be where you are. Not to mention you got there with three guys you consider brothers.

I want you to know that I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, Cal. I somewhat get where you're coming from when you think that this all a mistake, but obviously not entirely. I just want you to know I'm here. And I love you so much and I will support you in the best way I can."

Calum let out a shaky breath and pulled her to his lap. He buried his face into her hair. He let his tears escape and hugged Claudia tighter. He relaxed, feeling her softly rub his back.

"As selfish as this sounds, if you went pro you wouldn't have met me. Unless you played for Las Chivas, Manchester United or LA Galaxy and you went by Chicharito Hernandez." Claudia mumbled.

Calum let out a hearty laugh. "Trust me you're on the top list of why I'm glad to be in the band." he said. He was quiet for a few seconds. "Thank you for listening. I know I rarely talk to you about this stuff, so thank you for being understanding and supportive. Your words are what I needed to hear right now."

"Whether you like it or not, I'll be here loving and supporting you and giving you the best pussy you can get." She said sincerely.

Calum kissed her and mumbled on her lips. "I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life, Claudia."

***

They finished filming two days early, allowing Calum and Claudia to go explore San Juan before they flew back to Los Angeles. Finally putting the car they rented to use, they made their way to El Yunque National Forest, a rainforest an hour away from San Juan that had a hiking trail that led to a waterfall.

The hike was peaceful but when they reached the waterfall it was packed with other tourists and visitors. After getting a few pictures of them in the waterfall, they decided to hike back and spend the day at the beach in front of their hotel. The drive back took them longer as traffic slowly built up.

When they finally arrived at their hotel, they changed into beach going attire. They found a nice shady spot under a palm tree and set up camp. Claudia offered to go get them food since the most spanish Calum knew was how to ask where the library was. Though when she came back with their bacalaitos, empanadas, piononos and other fried delicacies, Calum had a whole line of fans asking to get his picture with him.

It didn’t surprise her. When they first started filming, Bad Bunny made an instagram story with Calum. A few thought the band and Bad Bunny were going to release a song, but some fans that happened to be in San Juan were able to find the filming location and tell them that they were filming a music video for Bad Bunny.

Claudia pulled her bucket hat lower and slipped on her sunglasses, hoping to mask her face. Lucky for them, the fans and Calum were taking pictures a few feet from where they have their things. She placed their food on the little ice chest and pushed down her shorts, showing off her new black bikini, to get Calum’s attention.

Calum finished taking pictures and asked if they can hold off posting the pictures until a few days later. He kindly turned one of them down when she gave him her number and went back. He looked behind him, making sure they weren’t lingering by and sat with Claudia. He reached for a papa rellena and happily ate.

“We need to find a Puertorican place when we get home.” He said with his mouth full.

“When I was still at community college, I went to Mofongos in North Hollywood for an extra credit thing for my Spanish class. It was pretty good.”

“You took Spanish? Don’t you already know it?”

“I mean yeah, but like they were an easy A. Plus I needed some classes since I took a bunch of math and physics classes when I was in high school.”

“Fucking nerd.” Calum teased.

“Oh shut up, you know you like it when I’m smart.”

“But not when you’re a smartass.”

***

One thing Claudia disliked from the beach was how tangled her curls would get after just a few hours playing in the water. She hopped in the shower with Calum and quickly detangled her hair. Once she was done she added leave in conditioner and wrapped her hair in a towel.

She sat on the bed and picked up her phone to check in with her parents. After sending them a few pictures of the beach she read a few emails. She scrolled through the ones that didn’t seem important. Then she stopped at one.

"Lease ending soon." She whispered to herself. She clicked the email and cursed when she read it. Her landlord sold the house she was renting and needed Dulce, Sara and her out of the house by the first of May, which was two weeks from now.

"Everything alright?" Calum asked, walking around their suite with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He grabbed a pair of boxers and got in bed.

"No," She sighed. "I have to be out of the house I'm staying at by May first because my landlord sold it. Like this dude couldn't have waited until the end of the semester? It was only seven weeks away. Don't get me started on where I'm going to live when I start grad school. L.A. is so expensive. Even with the money from the music video, my parents won't be able to pay for tuition and rent. The last thing I want to do is pay off student loans for the rest of my life." She pushed back her hair in frustration. She got up and paced around, trying to come up with anything.

"Move in with me." Calum offered. He reached for her and pulled her to his lap. "It's convenient. UCLA is twenty minutes from my place. You know Roy moved out so we have privacy. I have a few spare rooms for you to pick as your room for you to do your school work and study. Not to mention rent is free."

Claudia stayed quiet. Of course his offer is the best thing, but her parents aren't going to like it. Then again this is about her education. Even if she qualified for a fellowship, he was saving her and her parents twenty thousand dollars each year.

"This guy would be our housemate." Calum said, bringing her out of her thoughts. He held up his phone, showing her a picture of Duke in the middle of the kitchen with frosting in his fur. "He's pretty messy and doesn't do shit, but he's great company."

"Are you sure you're okay with me moving in? This is a huge step for us. You’re going to see me everyday.”

“Yes, I'm very certain." He said. "Plus, I like seeing your face everyday.”

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

Text

Hobbies and Holidays, Or The Halloween Fic

Yes, I know it’s June. I just like Halloween, man. Yuu’s quiet dedication to the finest of holidays sours when confronted with assholes who fuck around for clout.

Contains coarse language, attempted violence, sexuality and nerds being nerds. As always, if you enjoyed it or have any questions, let me know! I like talking with people.

~*~*~*~

"What's cooking?" Ace, cheery as could be, walked his way up towards your set up on the Ramshackle front lawn. "Is it curry? I hope it's curry."

"You might not want to stand downwind." You poked at the bubbling mess on the propane stove, sweat rolling down your back. A beautiful August day, perfect for your project. This sure as hell wasn't something you wanted to do indoors.

"Whaddya mean by that?" The breeze shifted towards him, and he turned an impressive shade of green, stumbling back with his nose covered. "What's in there?"

"Mice. I told you to keep upwind." You went in with a hand strainer, and scooped a pile of tiny bones onto a ratty towel.

"Why are you boiling mice?"

You mirrored his are-you-goddamned-stupid-or-something face back at him. "I wanted the bones. I went to Sam, but he said he's not allowed to order in dermestid beetles after last time, so I gotta do it the old-fashioned way."

"That's absolutely disgusting,” her said, the disgust and disbelief plain on his face.

"Don't we all know. Grimm fucked right off when the ghosts showed me the mouse graveyard."

"And your first thought at a pile of rotten mice was 'ooo, free bones' like some kinda crazy necromancer?"

"Yup." You scooped out another pile of bones. If you left them in there too long, they'd simply dissolve like in a cooked fish. As it was, you'd have to find a way to strengthen them. Maybe dip them in resin?

"Why am I your friend, again?"

"Because you feel responsible for me."

"Yeah. And you're fun when you aren't being weird and doing shit like taking cemetery pictures."

"I'll stop taking the pictures when I stop finding good grave iconography."

"Yeah, weird. I'm going to leave you to be a gross little maggot by yourself today."

"I'm not eating them."

"They're stewing in a pot."

"To get the meat off!"

"Yeah, whatever. See you at supper. I hope you don't stink."

"We'll find out, won't we?" you muttered, sotto voce, but he was already gone.

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day in September, and you heard him far before he knew you had. When you turned to look at Idia, floss wound around your fingers, he started. "Is my stealth that bad?"

You gave him the ghost of a smile. "You're not as quiet as you think you are." He hasn't cottoned on that you can hear what's in his headphones, if they aren't set just right on his head, and you aren't about to tell him. The face he makes when you pick him out so easily was too good to lose.

He nodded, fidgeted, looked at the spread on the table. "What are you doing?"

"Well, she's got to dry. So I'm working on this pattern until the top coat goes on."

'She' was a currently eyeless, disembodied head, that you'd picked up along with her body in a second hand store for a pittance. You'd unstrung her, scrubbed her clean, and now were putting on a face to match her sweet if imperious expression, a bratty princess of a girl in miniature. You hadn't realized you'd liked dolls until you'd seen her. But, when you had, your breath fled your throat in the same way it had only once since coming here.

He looked, but knew better than to touch. He did a little bit of craft work himself, mostly model painting, and wasn't about to muss your hard work. "She's... nice?" He didn't quite get the appeal, despite having two vinyl dolls you knew of stowed carefully in their packages under his bed. When you'd asked, he just muttered that they were anime characters and didn't come out except for photos because something something collectibles something resale value. Boys.

"I could do better. But it's enough. Thank you for letting me borrow the painting set up."

"Y... welcome." He squinted at the embroidery, finally noticing something. "Are those bones?"

In the center of each withered, poisonous blossom in your embroidery hoop, you'd stitched a tiny vertebra to serve as the center. "Yeah?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

He wasn't ready to push it any further. "If you want..." He hesitated, and stumbled, and you waited until he just brought out his tablet to tap it out on a screen instead. "You can come do that in Board Game Club, if you want. There's a window. Azul shouldn't mind."

"I'll join you after I gear up and put the sealant on her. Thank you for inviting me." You gave him your best, most dazzling smile. "You know how much I like when you include me in your stuff. I know it's not always easy for you; how shy you are and all."

He squeaked and looked away, and you continued. "I should be there in about an hour. Make sure Azul doesn't keep up trying to wager me in chess. I can't fucking play worth a damn and he knows it."

He smirked. "He likes easy marks. Maybe try and get goo-"

You flicked a bone at him, and it hit him square on the nose as he yelped.

~*~*~*~

Welcome, October. Coolness and colour, a certain something on the breeze that felt like a home you'd never let go. Even if it hadn't quite hit the dorms the same way as they main area of the school. (Those little fairies that ran the weather machine didn't seem to believe in seasons for the dorms, or perhaps Crowley gave them a chewing out after the spring?) In amongst the Heartslabyul roses, you'd think it was still summer, and you weren't one to let a day of warmth go.

"Oh, in this chapel of ritual, smells of dead human sacrifices from the altar..."

"Stop that."

You looked up at Riddle, who'd found you in your secluded corner. "Why?"

"You can't sing and the lyrics are awful."

"Is there a rule against that?"

He nodded. "The queen gets to approve all music."

"Ah, of course, mine rosen liege. My petaled monarch. Emperor Rosa." A collar appeared on your neck, and you did not slow down. "Cardiac Sovereign. Dauphine De la Coeur. I can do this all day, Riddle; that collar don't do shit cause I ain't magic."

The colour was high on his cheeks. "Is it your job to annoy me?"

"Oh, you got me. I wake up and spend every moment thinking 'How do I best piss off Riddle Roseheart? How about I stand outside his door and blast nightcore from a boombox?' "

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Stop joking."

You laughed. "Yeah. I only do that with Shoenheit."

That managed to get a bit of a smile out of him. "Why are you being a pest over here, and not at your own dorm?"

"I'm just doing crafts, man."

"While sitting on the grass."

"Yeah, man. Won't be any grass to sit on soon enough. Made sure to not be on the croquet grounds or anything."

He looked at the mess of foam and ribbon around you. "What are you even doing?"

You looked down, and back up at him. "Crafts?"

"More specifically, before I kick you out for being awful."

You held up a padded frame, that you were carefully wrapping a satin ribbon around the many bars of it. "What does that look like?"

He just glared instead of admitting he didn't know, so you got to your feet and held the frame over your chest, the shape clarifying by being pressed over what it mimicked. "It's ribs. It'll tie on with more ribbon. Might put beads and stuff on it too."

He looked for a beat before nodding. "For later this month?"

"Indeed."

"... Continue, then. But be quiet!"

He was nice enough to remove the collar before he left, but not nice enough to leave it off as soon as you resumed singing to yourself once you'd assumed he was out of earshot.

~*~*~*~

"Hey, Lil?”

"Yeah?"

You looked over the riot of cheery pumpkins and Far East aesthetics that had sprung from your lawn. "You should've asked me, first."

Lil smiled at you. "But then you would have said no."

"I wouldn't have. But," you guestured to the papier mache dragon, "Really, my dude? This isn't what I would have picked at all. I'm not going to match."

"You're working on a costume? Already?" He lit up. "What's it going to be?"

"You'll see."

"Do I get a costume?"

You looked down at your not-cat. "Grimm, I didn't think you'd want one."

"I do now!" He scrambled to your shoulder and tugged at your hair, wailing. "Costume! Costume!"

You rolled your eyes. "Stop that, before I sell you to Lil to practice recipes on."

~*~*~*~

Grimm was no help. He changed his mind every few minutes on what he wanted. At least your incorporeal roommates were a sweet help, finally gearing him up with a hat by the beginning of the week.

"Do you still need one, Yuu?" The middling ghost, the one neither plump nor skeletal, seemed concerned.

"No, babe. I've been working on this since..." August, you think. "I'm good. I hope I can get a week out of it. I could at least do a different face each day."

Realization dawned across his face. "That's what that was for? I see. I guess you won't need..."

Oh, he made you a costume. Layers and layers of rotten gauze from the curtains, a spindrift take on the bedsheet ghost.

"Hey, I can use this, don't worry. Can you stoke the fire? I've got to dye this to match, I'll need some water boiled."

~*~*~*~

There's too many fucking people. You don't know any of them, they're loud, and they cram in wherever you need to go. But their fussing over you, their asking for pictures is nice. If only...

"Hey, are you lost, kid?" You lean down and reach a hand out to a fearful-looking six-year-old. "I can help you find someone who can help?"

He promptly burst into tears and collided into Floyd as he ran away.

"Hey there itty bitty. You need an adult? Hold on." Even with Floyd... being Floyd, he was a hell of a more welcome sight to the kid, and soon had him balanced on a shoulder to yell for his parents. "Who's under all that?"

"Your favourite shrimp, you overgrown string bean."

Floyd make an o of surprise and flicked the veil up. "It is you under all that! See, kid, She's not scary. She's pretty."

The kid simply eyed him dubiously before going back to trying to wave his parents down to get away from these lunatics.

All your hard work paid off beautifully. A mass of bones, beads and decay, a beautifully jeweled skeleton crowned with a fine halo of gold-and-bone spines and dried flowers. You rattled gently with every step, eyes staring out from a painted skull. They only thing you regretted was Riddle catching you earlier. Even if he hadn't intentionally steered it that way himself, everyone would assume you'd intentionally went to match Heartslabyul. Even more, now that you'd turned those curtains into a veil, even if you'd stuck all the bone and garnet drops you could onto the edges.

"Thank you, Floyd." You leaned up towards the kid. "Didn't mean to scare you, little darling."

The kid just stared at you in fear, and fortunately his parents came along to claim him, leaving you and Floyd by yourself.

"Shrimpie~" He'd scooped you up to replace the kid in his arms before you could protest. "You're so cute like this! Let's go to the alchemy room."

"What's in the alchemy room, Floyd." At this point you were used to him just... hauling you wherever. And you’d found that if you went along with the lighter end of it, he took you seriously when you said no. Weirdo he was, he'd at least gathered that you'd hang out willingly if he didn't push it.

"Oh, well you look so nice! You'll look much nicer in the water tube than the dummy we have in there."

"There are several reasons that can't work, Floyd. Least of it is I only breathe air."

"You're a ghost right now, you don't breathe at all."

"This outfit would not survive a dunking. I'm not sure it'll last the week if I don't repair it every night."

He kept smiling at you. "Even better! Wearing nothing at all on Halloween! Everyone would take even more pictures."

"Yeah yeah, and you have nothing at all in your room if I want to speed that up." You flicked his nose. "Put me down and we can walk over and check how it's going."

"Excuse me?" A stranger. "Can I take a picture of you and your boyfriend like that."

"I'm not her boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend. Go ahead though."

~*~*~*~

"What are you working on?"

Idia's voice was slightly muffled under the pumpkin head. "People kept calling my projection 'cute'. Idiots! They don't know the true fear of Pumpkin Hollow. So I'm adjusting the projection mapping so it's less cute, and more accurate."

"Hm. It seems fine to me as it is."

"You would think that. You don't care if there is a cuteness to things that are scary."

"There's beauty and sweetness in even death." You thought for a moment. "This is for that series you sat me down for? You got mad when I played with the toys?"

"Those. Are. Collecta-" he stopped when he whirled on you, faltering into silence. You really wished you could see the face he was making, he made such sweet faces, especially when he looked at you. You craved them, wanted him to look only at you with those expressions.

You smiled at him. "There's no use in leaving a toy in a box! I don't buy anything I don't intend to play with."

"Ah. Errrrrrrrrghhhmmm." He turned back to his work, took a deep breath, and turned back around. "You watched them, would you give me feedback?"

"Sure. Could you lean down a little?"

He did, and you carefully pulled off the pumpkin, revealing - nothing. No head at all.

You laughed. "Turn that off."

"Why?"

"I just opened your box. Time to play."

He made a strangled noise and started back, looking this way and that. "Right now? Anyone could come in!"

"Just for a moment! How can I give you a kiss if I can't see where I'm aiming?"

His head flickered into view, with a face full of mischief. "... Just one?"

~*~*~*~

"What happened to your makeup?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, model boy." You looked Vil up and down. "You're actually pretty hot like that. It's a miracle."

"Of course you would only find me attractive when I look like a corpse." He rolled his eyes hard enough to sprain. "Do I need to go lie down in a glass coffin too? Stay very still while you actually work up the courage to touch me?"

You snorted. "You wish I would touch you, you overblown jackass."

"With you looking like that? I'd die."

"Bite me, asshole."

"You'd like it if I did."

Your tone grew playful. "Is that a promise for later?"

"Ugh." His shudder was too exaggerated to be anything but an act. "Go ask your ugly little playmate for a bite, we all know what gross shit you get up to."

"You're just mad it's not you."

He pointed a perfectly manicured nail at your painted nose. "You're just mad I want nothing to do with you."

"Then why are you even talking to me?"

"I- why am I talking to you. Go away."

You did, but not before pulling on his cape to wrinkle it.

~*~*~*~

You had a dreadful feeling things were about to get worse. Call it intuition, or paranoia. But with any luck, that would change after a good night's sleep.

(It did not.)

~*~*~*~ These fuckers were getting exhausting. What a grand idea, picking unknown flowers to stick in your hair for selfies! That wasn't an excellent way to come down with a hideous case of contact poisoning at all. You had to swat one girl's hand away from a bed of monkshood, reciting symptoms of aconite poisoning at her until she stalked off in a huff.

And futzing around with the decorations! The only reason you didn't outwardly congratulate Leona on trying to rip apart a bunch of tourists was that murder is supposed to be bad, no matter how irritating and disrespectful the murder victims were. Even you knew better than to go around fondling random ears and tails!

(That's why you'd made the anatomy books in the library your friends. Far more polite than going up to a fellow student and saying, "May I feel around your skull for a few hours to satisfy my scientific curiosity? No one at home has ears like that and I'm very curious about the underlying muscle structures." )

Better see what's going on everywhere else.

~*~*~*~

You got up in tiptoe and lightly touched his arm. "Hey, Floyd?"

"??? Yes, Shrimpie?" His face instantly brightening, he dropped the absolutely delighted Magicammer he'd had pressed to the shelf and turned to you, leaning in as you crooked your finger.

You whispered in his ear, "Why waste magic on them when you can do so much more with your fists?"

He shone like the sun as he pressed his cheek to yours in lieu of something more intimate. "You always know just what to do."

~*~*~*~

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE."

The crowd of idiots instead turned on you with flash photography. "Another ghost! This'll get so many likes!"

"I MEAN IT!" Blinking away the spots from your eyes and casting all good sense to the wind, you grabbed a fire poker from inside your bedroom door and started swinging. They laughed and clapped - and only stepped back when you got the damned thing stuck in the wall while taking a swing.

"What an excellent show!" And more. Fucking. Pictures. How in the fuck Vil deals with this shit without murdering everyone in a hundred-foot radius, you'd love to know.

"I SAID-" yank "GET THE FUCK-" yank "OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The force of finally pulling the poker from the wall sent you careening onto your ass, and Grimm only stopped long enough to laugh at you before resuming his own ineffective charge. You stumbled to your feet, muttering. "Stupid little mother fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking..."

"Oh, it's a chase game! Let's go!" And they all fucking scattered into different rooms as you watched them in disbelief.

"I am going to kill everyone in this building and then myself for good measure."

~*~*~*~

"Leave."

"Aren't you going to scare me, Miss Ghost?" This last idiot was joyfully skipping around a bedroom that you'd had the ghosts empty out, nattering into her phone. A livestream, you think.

You're in you goddamned pajamas. "Sure. We don't use this room because the floor's not sound. Get the fuck out and leave before you fall through to the next floor."

The girl instead started to hop in place. "Oooooo, so scary! You'll have to try better than that!"

You rushed her. You probably would have throttled her (and wound up with a new ghostly roommate in the process) but as she backed up, your leg went through the floor where she'd weakened it, which left her cackling.

"You weren't kidding! Bye now!" And she just fucking left you there like the wretched asshole she was.

~*~*~*~

"I'm so sorry, Yuu."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Mal."

He rested his head on your bare knee and looked up at you. "If I hadn't picked your home as a stamp location, people wouldn't be invading this dorm, and you wouldn't have been injured."

"You fixed me up, didn't you?" He was the one who had pulled you rightways, and shut the scratches on your leg. Of course, he could have left your socks on to do that, but hey, those had been fixed too. You reached down and put your hand on his cheek, rubbing circles by his eye while he stared up at you like an adoring dog.

"This was supposed to be fun for you, so you could have a perfect Halloween."

"That's still a few days away yet. There's still time. And hey."

He blinked up at you as you leaned your face in close, flushing faintly as you did. "Any luck, we'll all make it to November without assault charges."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

You subconsciously growled like a rabid animal as you turned to Lilia with your eye twitching.

"By all the queen's powers." He shrank back. "You alright?"

"Magimons broke the lock on our bedroom and shook her awake last night." Grimm was, by some miracle, in a better mood than you; content to be a comforting weight in your arms and be your anger translator.

"They took," you added, "my groceries."

Lil looked at you in blank shock. "What about the wards on your doors?"

"That's for magic, not fucking morons with no sense of personal space." If you made it through 'til November without actually biting someone's throat out and getting put down like a mad dog, you'd be sincerely surprised. "You of all people should know that."

"Hey, I put them back up after I drop in. You want to go sit with Malleus today? I think you need it."

"Nope. If I snap at him he'll take it to heart. Or just kill everyone who's not staff or student because they upset me."

"No he wouldn't."

"We both know he would."

"He would not because that would be bad press for the kingdom."

"... well, damned if I ever though I'd say this, but thank god for politics."

~*~*~*~

You stare at the empty plinths as everyone started yelling and scrambling. You look to the rubble of the statues, the bases, to Cater, and back to the rubble, nudging what may have once been a staff with you toe.

"And it's not even for a fucking political movement."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu, if we can get rid of the magicam monsters, we can have the party!" Grimm smiled up at you, all sharp teeth and blue eyes. "Aren't you happy?"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that at this point, you'd rather they'd just cancel everything and simply sleep through till All Saint's. Fuck your costume work. Fuck the party. Fuck everything. If you see another jack o lantern you will smash it. Fuck this holiday. You're so tired.

"Yuu, do you have ideas on how to drive the magicam monsters away?"

You stared past Cater's ear because you didn't feel like looking anyone in the face. "Tried to brain a few with a fire poker. Th'just thought it was funny."

This was met with the sound of air sucked through teeth, and a warm hand on your shoulder. "Come with me please!" And Ortho pulled you away with the force of a vaudeville hook.

"You're having a very bad time!" So sweet, so earnest. Right now he was the only person here who could be that chipper and you not want to put their nose out the back of their skull.

You gave him a weary smile. "What was your first clue, honey."

"She keeps kicking in her sleep. When she sleeps. And she's all snappy and horrible!"

You gave Grimm a single light warning shake. "Shut up, Grimm."

"Would you like to stay over so that you can rest properly?" He was hovering directly in front of your face. "Maybe if you're somewhere you won't be woken up, you'll feel better."

You raised an eyebrow and stared over at Idia, who was trying very hard to pay attention to both your conversation and his. "Shouldn't you clear that with someone first?"

Ortho rolled his eyes, the effect on his little boy face frankly hilarious. "Oh, he'd be so upset you have you over. Deeply so. He wouldn't get a wink of sleep with you there." He leaned in. "Except he would, because you wouldn't do anything to keep him up with me there, would you?"

You wheezed. "You think so little of me, Ortho."

"I like you very much even if what you both get up to is gross."

"Of every boy in this school, Yuu. You picked that one."

Ortho glared down at Grimm. "That is my brother you're talking about."

"Stop it. Can we check back in?"

~*~*~*~

"So we're going to run round and scare the piss out of them?"

Jade nodded. "That is the idea, yes."

"... Can I help?"

"Of course, Yuu." Jade smiled his smile that didn't reach more than a millimetre beneath his eyes. "But we've agreed you can't have any blunt objects. For everyone's safety. And the school's reputation, of course.."

"... Yeah, that's for the best."

~*~*~*~

"Can you guys watch Grimm for the evening?"

"Of course." Mal beamed at you from his seat on the Ramshackle steps. "Where will you be that he doesn't want to be?"

"I don't like the horse."

"You ride horses?" Idia was sitting between Mal's legs as Malleus carefully arranged the bright hair into a high ponytail.

"Epel taught me." You paused for a minute. "Do you?"

"Mother made me learn. I haven't in years."

"Makes sense." He didn't like the outdoors, after all. "Mal, how'd you convince him to let you touch his hair? He only lets me do that in private."

"It will look nicer coming out of his pumpkin helmet if arranged higher." Mal crooked his mouth and dragged his lacquered nails along Idia's scalp, making a soft noise when Idia gasped, shivered and abruptly stood up.

"Nope nope nope nope no more of that-"

"May I at least put the elastic in?" Mal held up a black band. "It's fireproof."

He instead snatched it and ran for the library as fast as he could without cracking the armour. You and Mal watched him leave.

"Hm."

"Mal?"

He was still watching the blue light vanish into the distance. "I think I can see the appeal." His dreamy smile gained a sharp edge. "What a delicious sound."

You snickered. "God, I know, right? You should hear some of the other ones I've got out of him."

"You're both disgusting."

~*~*~*~

You hadn't worked out an actual story for this one, just your ghostly roommates and Grimm telling everyone to leave the statues alone. But some asshole, wearing aviator shades and the ugliest piecemeal hoodie you'd ever seen, mounted a plinth to start taking selfies. And once that started, more got the idea, and joined him, trying to nudge the statue away to make room.

So, that's where you came in, pulling into sight at the end of the drive, in tarnished gilt and rotten splendor, jeweled Death on a pale horse.

Sunglasses looked at you and froze, before snapping another picture.

Fucking pictures. You're so sick of pictures.

You snapped the reins and nudged your heels, and who knew anyone on two legs could move that fast? Though potentially being run down by a warhorse was great motivation to move thine arse, as it were. And, thank god, everyone else booked it out the gate after him.

It only took a little maneuvering to lock the gate while still up on a pale horse named Beans, and now? Time to take him to his stable and go the fuck to sleep. Maybe through past tomorrow. Fuck Halloween.

~*~*~*~

You were riding your merry way when a familiar voice called out to you. "You dropped some loot!"

"What did I lose, Idia?" His little speakers mimicking the clang of armour were working overtime as he jogged up beside you. Once he reached you, he held up... a shoe.

"Huh." You looked down, and you had indeed lost a shoe while charging down a bunch of Magicam-obsessed assholes on a warhorse. "Thank you." That's when you gave Idia a level gaze, and stuck you leg out at him.

He swallowed back his noise of shock, and shaking, took your stockinged foot and slid the shoe back into place.

"Good boy."

He was turning from shell pink to a deep red that rivaled the roses in Heartslabyul. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to keep playing when emotions were high. Before letting go, he leaned down and kissed the top of your foot.

Now it was your turn to go red; a wonder the painted skull didn't simply melt off of your face.

~*~*~*~

"Shrimpie~"

You took a breath and prepared yourself. Scoopsies was inevitable.

True to form, Floyd had his whole conversation with you in a bridal carry. "We're gonna have the party!~ We chased them all away!~"

"That's..." Honestly, despite all the rage and pain this week had caused, you were rather happy about the news. "Nice."

"Ah - where'd your face go?" He leaned in, and you stopped him from getting too close with a finger pressed to his lips.

"I didn't feel up to wearing everything." Your embroidered gown and painted skull was replaced with a simple back veil and black dress. "I kind of hate this whole holiday right now and I'm ready to kick the next pumpkin I see."

He nodded, kissing your fingertip as he did. "I can help you after. But we need this all for the parade." He brightened. "You should paint up and get on the horse again for it!" He smiled, full of dreamy fondness and not a small amount of hunger. "I heard what you did to the magicam monsters... I wish I could have seen."

"Hey, I heard you didn't do too badly yourself." You leaned in conspiratorially. "Anyone pee themselves?"

He smiled like the sun post-eclipse. "Yup!"

~*~*~*~

Epel had been nice enough to help you kit out Beans in a fancy black harness, so in amongst the crowd of costumed students, you were both equally eye-catching. And hell, pictures weren't so bad right now. People were keeping a distance, murmuring to each other as they aimed their cameras. You thought you were getting a dirty look or two from Vil for stealing his thunder, but he had himself on the prow of a ship! It wasn't comparable.

"So," you said, leaning down a little, "How are you handling this?"

Idia looked up at you, you thought. "The mask makes it easy. They're looking at the costume, not me."

"I'm glad it helps. I wish you'd take it off, but you being comfortable is more important."

"What? You want me to ruin the effect by taking the mask off? Clearly you have no respect for the holiday." His voice had the sweet, bubbling quality that came when he was excited and happy, and it warmed you to hear it.

"Oh, no, of course not. But why would I want to taste a plastic kiss,” you said, reaching a hand down to run the trailing ribbon of his hair through your fingers, “when I could taste you instead?"

You had to give him credit, he only faltered for a moment before continuing. "Right now? In front of everyone?"

"I would if you'd let me, right now." You lowered your voice. "And worse."

He stifled a groan and only walked funny for another ten minutes.

~*~*~*~

"I thought you didn't like horses." The stables were in sight, but Idia had turned up, surprising you.

He rolled his eyes, and held his arms out. "Dismount, fair maiden."

What.

"I mean it. Your Pumpkin Knight awaits."

You shook your head, voice soft. "Baby, no."

"I'm trying to be romantic. Like your novels."

"Idia."

He stared back at you, sour-faced. "What."

"I outweigh you by at least sixty pounds."

"I can do this. I carry Ortho around all the time."

"Ortho's chassis is mostly fibreglass and aluminum. I can carry Ortho. I think Grim could carry Ortho."

He took a step forward. "Do you want me to leave you on the horse or not."

"His name is Beans." But, you managed to dismount into Idia's arms, where he stood stock-still and trembling.

"Kkc."

"Babe? Put me down before your back goes out."

His knees gave out first, and he crumpled beneath you as you both yelped.

"You alright?"

"hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

You crawled off his chest and he could actually breathe again.

"Better?"

After a few breaths, he managed a weak smile. "Maybe kiss it better."

Beans beat you to it, snuffling at Idia's face to make sure he wasn't dead.

~*~*~*~

You are not much of a party person. You like them, but the ideal party is a few friends hanging around in the same room, chatting at a reasonable volume and then going home to go the fuck to sleep. This was a little much.

But you know what this party had that you hadn't seen in what felt like years? Cute girls. In cute costumes! You've been flirting your ass off, with decent success; it turns out that the Magicam Live you did with Vil weeks ago had paid off in the form of smiles and fluttered eyelashes as girls crowded around you to hear tales of how fucking obnoxious you could be in this school and get away with it because you had friends in high places.

At least, until you caught something out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped. "Hey, I gotta check on someone - raise your hand if you like boys. Okay, you see -" You stopped and pointed at your poor, unsuspecting target. "With the blue-black hair and the painted spade? That's Deuce, he doesn't know how to talk to girls worth a damn, so give him some slack. But he's a sweetheart, you won't regret it."

"What about the redhead?"

"Ace is a prick but he's delightful. Chat him up too." With that, you went to check on Idia, huddled into a corner after an attempted force-feeding.

"You alright, babe?"

He nodded. "They're too much. But I'm alright now."

You leaned back against a nearby chair, looking him up and down. "You sure you aren't going to eat anything? I don't think anyone's going to care too much if you have your face out."

He remained completely still, and you realized you could hear a faint whirring. "Idia. Have you been using the robot double all evening."

"... I swapped out ten minutes ago."

You made a noise and he flinched. "I was going to swap back in after it calmed down!"

"... No you weren't."

"Okay, no I wasn't. But I was there for a while. I have proof, I brought plates back with me."

"You could have just told me. It's been a hell of a lot for you, I know what you're like."

Idia - well, his robotic avatar - shrugged. "If you're going to lecture me... come by and do it here."

You stopped. "You really want me to yell at you in person?"

"I want you to come by. If you want. You can stay as long as you want... if you want. I have snacks, and movies, and games that even you could play."

You snorted. "Oh, the siren call of a fucking nerd trying so hard to woo his chosen..."

"I changed my mind actually, you can't come."

"Aww."

"... That's a lie." He paused. "You can even take the Yume Twins out."

Those vinyl dolls he never let you touch. You throw your veil back and kissed the stupid plastic pumpkin head. "It's a date."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

You peered at Malleus from around a stack of Tupperware. "Mal?"

"You.. enjoyed it all, despite everything?"

"Despite everything." You hefted the stack towards him. "Would you like to help? I want to grab stuff from the party that'll keep at room temperature."

He absently flicked a finger, sending the dishes swirling around to settle in a stack in midair, before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I have a... request."

"Anything," you said, and you regretted saying it as his breath hitched.

"Would you..." His voice faltered, and instead he simply wrapped you in a tight embrace, leaning down to bury his nose in your hair. You could feel him, chest heaving, scenting your greased hair through tulle, murmuring something against your scalp.

"Malleus."

He stopped, but did not move.

"No spells."

"You would not forgive me if I tried." You could feel his smile against your hair.

"I would not." You pulled back enough to look at him, and nearly froze at his besotted gaze before he schooled it into his more usual face. "Mal, you know you only feel this strong because I'm your first friend, right?"

"Does it matter? It is sincere."

And that makes it so much worse. "You know I don't feel about you like that."

"..." The grief that flickered across his face was enough to shatter a stone heart. "To stand with you and hold you is enough."

And they said fairies can't lie. They could, they were just terrible at it.

"You said you were going to ask for something?"

"... Not anymore. I doubt you would give it."

He vanished into thin air in a swirl of wind, and the Tupperware clattered to the steps, the spell holding them gone.

~*~*~*~

The nice thing about Idia's room is that, being a prefect, he had an attached bathroom to scrub the paint off of your face. It was a monochrome murder in the sink, splatters of grey with the occasional pinprick of red where you'd disturbed the new bumper crop of pimples from painting up as a skull for a week. Thank fuck that was over with. Even if the day proper had been lovely, the events of the week had thoroughly soured you on Halloween.

"You alright?" Idia poked his head in, long since divested of armour.

"Yup. How'd you get that shit off so fast? You got a suiting-up machine hidden somewhere?"

"It's less complicated than you'd think. Cosplay magic."

"That's nice. Unbutton me."

"... wha."

You looked at him via the mirror, meeting his wide eyes and shimmying in place. "Unbutton me. I can't reach them all myself."

"How'd you get that on every day?" He hesitantly walked behind, eyeing the row down your back as though it would burn him at the touch.

"I have roommates, remember?"

"Mmh." He finally undid the first three, before flicking his gaze back to yours in the mirror. "A... Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't ask, otherwise." You kept looking, as he took a breath and resumed. "Idia."

He paused.

"Keep going, I'm just going to chat at you for a bit." Two more. "You know I..." How to phrase this. "I don't intend to stay mint on card forever, you know. You can take me out and play."

He twitched, but kept going. "Maybe I don't want to damage you. There's only one of you, after all."

"I'm not so breakable." You had one side of you face completely clear, the other still smeared grey in the creases. "Would you rather stay mint condition, yourself?"

"..." He took a moment to gather himself, staring at the exposed skin of your back. "Maybe I want to... admire a bit. Get to know my- your- Uh."

You waited with a soft smile, until he found the words. "No one said you have to play straight away when you take something out of the package. Right?" He placed an experimental hand on the expanse of flesh between bra band and waistband, and did not draw away.

"Right."

"... Maybe I just want to hold you a bit before we play."

What a sweet boy you had. "Take all the time you need to. Even if we never play like that, I like you. Spending time with you is what I want."

You could see the motes of pink flickering through his hair. "Can I hold you now?"

"Of course."

He slid his hands under your dress, around your waist - then grabbed your soft, flabby tummy in both hands and squeezed. "Soft~"

You squealed with laughter. "What are you doing?"

"It's bare skin that's neutral territory," he huffed, before hugging your back to him and resting his chin on your shoulder. "And it's warm, too."

"Not so much as you. Keep me warm, will you? It's getting so damned cold at night."

He buried his face in your hair. "I can do that."

~*~*~*~

You woke to someone banging at the door.

"Son of a bitch." You managed to free yourself from Idia's sleeping grasp and make it to the door as a familiar voice started up. "Shroud, your tin can brother's already helping with clean-up, if you skip out because of a stupid game I will-"

You opened the door and looked levelly into Vil's face, which twisted in surprise. He gave you a once over (unshaved legs, mussed hair, boxer briefs from the men's section and a blue-black striped shirt that was clearly not yours) and then peeked over your shoulder at Idia (dead asleep, smiling faintly, possibly naked under the blankets). He kept looking between the two of you with increasing disbelief and horror, until he stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Good for you."

"Thanks." Your face still hadn't changed.

"It's twelve thirty. If you're not both out helping clean up by three, I'm telling everyone."

"That's not much of a threat."

"Maybe to you. Shroud!"

Idia shuddered awake, bleariness washed away by terror as he saw Vil in the door and covered himself in the blankets.

"Be out helping cleanup by three or I'm telling everyone exactly why you're late." With that, he stalked off and you shut the door, mirroring his nose pinch.

"Dramatic bastard, ain't he? Even when he's being nice."

"How is that nice?" He only stopped shivering when you sat back down on the bed.

"Two and a half hours, Idia."

He blinked at you.

"How much can we do in two and a half hours?"

Realization dawned, and he started snickering as he dragged you in close.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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chandelier-s-notebook · 3 years

Text

Yoo! I’m back in with an 11 Chapter (subject to change) story. This was made for the TWB Fic Flip, unfortunately I wasn’t able to finish the whole thing by the deadline, but chap 1 is out.

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

-------------------------

Techno Blade strode into the old gas station on the corner opposite the local mall. He winced at the harsh fluorescent lighting that welcomed him in from the crisp evening air.

He lowered his hood and ran his fingers through his short pink hair. His roots were coming in, he’d need to grab some dye as well tonight. Taking off his backpack, he began placing items in--trying to fit as much as possible: beef jerky, canned peaches, chocolate bars, a couple energy drinks a pack of Tic Tacs, and some box dye from the ends of the isle.

Techno glanced at the cashier. He liked when Tango was on shift; that guy didn’t give a shit about anything and cared more about Clash of Clans than whatever thievery Techno was doing whenever he came by.

“You plan on paying for that stuff?” Tango shouted across the room, still immersed in his game. “You know I don’t get commission if you steal it?”

“Of course!” Techno called back. He snorted to himself, it said a lot about his life that he and the cashier could joke about him stealing from the store. Techno grabbed another bag of beef jerky, slipping it into his steadily filling backpack. He heard the ding of Tango opening the till and the sound of coins splattering on the counter. “For Tommy,” he muttered, reminding himself why he was risking a criminal record.

There was an emergency exit he knew he could use down by the bathrooms. Techno studied the monitor that was supposed to display feeds from the four security cameras, but those were still busted from when those college seniors ransacked the place the week prior. Four different static patterns danced back at him. At least that would make his escape easier, not that Tango couldn’t point him out in a line up.

He grabbed a pack of gummy worms and put them at the top of his bag. “For Tommy to share with his friends.” He smiled to himself. Gosh he was going soft for the kid.

“Get down!” The front door was kicked open with so much force that the previously fractured glass shattered upon impact with the wall. “Hands where I can see them!” a male voice yelled.

Techno didn’t do that, his confrontation response telling him to stay put and out of it rather than submitting. Instead he crouched down and leaned his back against the aisle shelves, peaking out towards the counter. There were two guys pointing guns at Tango; one was ginger, black jacket, medium height, orange bandana peaking over his collar; the other was taller, but he was also less confident in his stance, blond, and he was wearing a purple sweatshirt--one that Techno was certain he had seen a thousand times before.

“Guys guys,” Tango said, trying to placate them. “I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait?”

“No. No it can’t,” he voice said again, clearly put off by Tango’s causal demeanor.

“Really? Cause I gotta get back to my Clan War…” he trailed off.

“Aren’t there more important things than a Clan War right now?” a new voice asked.

A voice that Techno recognized. If he thought the hoodie gave it away then the voice was the nail in the coffin. He let out an involuntary “Why?” before he could stop himself.

All three heads turn to him. “Like I said, in the middle of something; there’s a customer here.” Tango spoke slowly, as if the situation was finally dawning on him.

The ginger turned his gun towards the store. “Show yourself!” he demanded.

“Isn’t this place a little low profile for Las Nevadas?” Techno tried to joke. Eyes darting towards the door, Techno put his hands up. “I’m just shopping.”

“Not you’re not.” Fundy Soot smiled menacingly. “We’re doing a robbery, if you couldn’t tell. Take what you need and scram. Don’t call the cops either.”

“Got it.” Once Fundy turned his attention back to Tango, Techno grabbed a pack of M&Ms and shoved them in his backpack as well. He leaned down to zip it up, before tossing it over his shoulder and snagging a tube of toothpaste on his way out. Sue him, he needed a refill.

Techno carefully stepped over the shattered glass, and made his way out of the building. He regretted leaving Tango to deal with the gang, but sometimes he needed to put himself first. Always. Always put himself first. Techno vaguely wonders if he’s ever actually bought anything from this gas station.

“It’s immoral to steal,” yet another voice from the left side of the door called.

Techno whipped around and took in the man next to him. Techno first took notice of the red fabric folded neatly into a handkerchief pocket: a bandana. “You with those guys?” he asked, taking a step back.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.”

“Then why aren’t you calling this in?”

“Why aren’t you?” the man countered.

Techno gave him a sarcastic look, the sides of his mouth twitching in displeasure. “Because the guy with the gun told me to run, so excuse me.” He pivoted to make his escape.

“Say I said I was with those guys,” he said before Techno could make his escape. “What would you do?”

“I would assume you are Wilbur Soot. Brown trench coats and fluffy hair are the signature look of that guy. Looks like you’re watching over your brother and the new kid.” He shifted uneasily on his feet, ready to bolt. “Las Nevadas, saw the marker, figured it was polite to ask.”

Wilbur nodded, a gleeful smile taking over his face. He held out his hand. “Gimme the bag.”

“I need this.”

“Give it here.”

“Please,” Techno said, taking another step closer to his car. “Why do you need to take my stuff? You have two guys in there with guns.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Wilbur opened his palm, getting impatient. “I just want the M&Ms, kid.”

Techno glared at him, but he nonetheless opened his bag and handed them to the man. At least he could keep everything else in the bag.

“Thanks.” Wilbur ripped open the packaging and tipped his head back, sliding half of the bag into his mouth.

Techno took a tentative step back and waited a second for Wilbur to wave him off. “Hope Tango’s okay,” he muttered to himself on the brisk, stiff walk back to his car.

He threw the bag into the passenger seat and rested his head against the steering wheel--trying to slow down his beating heart--for thirty seconds before remembering that there was a robbery taking place ten meters from him, and he did not want to deal with the police.

Techno snorted to himself, and turned on the engine. As if he hadn’t gone in there with the express purpose of stealing.

He sighed deeply as he took stock of himself. He didn’t get shot--which was great. He also had a lot more food to add to his stash. His and Tommy’s stash.

Techno groaned out loud. Tommy. The person in the purple sweatshirt was definitely the kid’s friend Purpled and now he was going around robbing gas stations with Las Nevadas. “Why? It could have been anything else, but no: he just had to go and join a gang.” Techno slammed on the gas pedal more than was necessary. Techno parked his car a couple streets away from his foster home. He waited for a few minutes to collect himself. “Eleven thirty,” he read off the car’s dashboard. “Gonna have to use the window.”

He arrived at the house. Through the ground floor window he could see that the lights were on at the back of the house. The house he was in is quite old, and he’d managed to snag a room in the attic with a bay window jutting out the side of the roof. He’d had it for as long as he could remember, in fact the Foster Bitch’s was the only house he’d ever had the displeasure of living in.

Unfortunately, Techno was in the circumstance of having had to do this a hundred times. He hopped up one of the columns holding the overhang above the porch, feet slotting into familiar grooves. Swinging himself up on the shingles and quickly making his way to the concave corner of the building, he used his momentum to push himself up the next two stories. Finding the familiar scruff marks on the window frame, he hoisted himself up to the top of the roof.

Techno looked out at the street below, it was a nice few all things considered. He went to open the window.

Locked.

Right. It had been storming the night before and he forgot to open it in his rush to get to school that morning.

Techno looked up at the sky. It was nice out, and he wasn’t one to be bothered about sleeping in day clothes--better than facing the wrath of the Foster Bitch for entering the house at such a late hour. He’d have to sleep on the side facing the backyard, he remembered what happened last time he slept on the roof.

Techno knocked on the window. Yes, Tommy should be asleep right now, but it didn’t hurt to check. After a minute he knocked once more.

Techno smiled at Tommy through the glass when the kid finally dragged himself out of bed to let his roommate in. The blond stuck out his tongue and opened the window. “Evening Blade,” he whispered. “What brings you back so late?”

“Sleep,” Techno said, slipping into the room. He snorted at the sleepy, unamused look Tommy gave him. “Stuff. Did you eat?”

“No. The other kids got to it first.” Tommy closed the window behind them, leaving the latch unlocked. “Like always.”

Techno hummed and unzipped his bag. He dumped the contents out and started organizing them.

“How did you get that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Techno dug through the pile and pulled out a pack of beef jerky. He tossed it in the general direction of Tommy’s head. “Leave a slice for me.”

Tommy caught the bag and quickly tore it open. He watched Techno disperse the food around their shared room, taking note where each item would be. “Techno?” he called in a small voice.

“I know, Tommy. I’m careful.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Techno if you’re caught they’re going to send you away!” he said, still a little distressed. “Then how am I going to survive here?”

“I won’t get caught.” Techno reassured him. “And if I do, I’m not getting sent away. If that was the case I’d have been gone before you even showed up here last year.” Techno hummed; he remembered that party. Some kid he’d never spoken to couldn’t afford to lose their scholarship so little seventh grade Techno had taken the blame for the alcohol serving party held at the house that night. He chuckled as he remembered gaslighting the whole community that it was his idea, not his finest moment, but one he was proud of nonetheless.

Being barred from the dinner buffet for two weeks had been worth the reputation points. Plus, he learnt valuable hoarding skills in that time. The Foster Bitch was fine--all things considered--but she was under the impression that if she put out a bunch of food on the table, everyone would get an equal portion in the mad dash for sustenance.

That wasn't the case. Techno could get food just fine, but Tommy was a gangly fourteen year old with too much height and not enough bulk; it was virtually impossible for him to grab food off the table.

“I’m not going to get caught.” Techno said putting the gummy worms on Tommy’s night stand. He held out his pinky, “I promise. I’m safe.”

“Techno,” Tommy whined, unhappy with the response--ignoring Techno’s hand. “That stash is bigger than normal.”

“I know.”

“Techno.”

“The cashier was busy with something else.”

Tommy’s voice took on a colder tone. “Techno.”

“Tommy.”

“What was the cashier busy with?”

“Stuff.”

Tommy huffed. “It wasn’t a Dream Team thing was it? You shouldn’t be hanging out with them.”

Techno snorted. “I’m older than you. Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to tell you to stop hanging out with the wrong crowd? Dream’s fine. Besides, you hang out with his little brother.”

“Well yeah!” Tommy’s voice got defensive. “But Tubbo’s Tubbo. Dream’s in the news for stealing and shit.” Tommy munched on his jerky angrily, even if he was going to stay oblivious: they both knew that Techno didn’t have the money to pay for this. Tommy dropped the friend’s point and moved to double down on the previous one. “What was the cashier busy with?”

“Stuff. Not Dream. Not death. Just stuff okay?”

“Not death?”

“Not death,” Techno agreed sagely.

“You aren’t going to tell me?”

Techno took off his hoodie and belt, but otherwise didn’t bother with pajamas. “Nope.” He settled into bed and held out his hand for Tommy to pass him the food.

Tommy stared him dead in the eye as he ate the last piece of beef jerky from that particular package. Techno rolled his eyes, but he understood; Tommy had heard that from Techno before: the not explaining where he’d been. He knew not to bother his foster brother, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

The next morning Techno and Tommy didn’t bother going to the kitchen for breakfast. Instead, they ate last night’s stolen granola bars in the comfort of their dingy penthouse suite--attic room--and listened to the thundering feet of the ten other foster’s in the house racing to get some food.

“If you want another, then take another.” It had taken a long time for Techno to teach Tommy that it was safe to take food from his stash; as far as he was concerned it was their stash. Hopefully, Tommy would stop feeling guilty about not asking, although that didn’t seem like it was happening any time soon.

Tommy sent him a half smile and scoffed down another bar. The two of them got ready for school, and were soon in Techno’s car. It was a ten minute drive to the high school, and Tommy sang along with the radio at the top of his lungs. It would be endearing if Techno wasn’t socially exhausted from the extrovert living in his room.

“I’m on top of the world, eh!” Tommy shouted, flipping off their foster siblings waiting at the bus station.

“Tommy.”

“What?”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“ I’m on top of the world! ”

Techno kept his smile to himself.

He rolled the car to a stop in the school parking lot. Before Tommy could open the door and vault out, Techno spoke. “Today’s a ‘going to Bad’s after school’ type of day.”

“What? Why?”

“Hanging out with Dream.”

Tommy’s face soured.

“Come on, don't be like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t like Bad. I just don’t like Dream. He’s bad news, and in the news.”

“It’s just an English project. We need to make a PowerPoint on something or other.”

“Okay,” Tommy said stiffly.

“I don’t police your friends. You don’t police mine.”

“Tubbo’s not in the news. Neither is Purpled. And you can’t complain about Ranboo.”

Techno thinks back to last night with the Soot brothers and the new kid in a purple sweatshirt. “Put a pin in Purpled.”

“No!” Tommy looked appalled at the insinuation Techno just made about his friend. “Have some faith. Tubbo and Purpled won’t turn out like their older brothers. Crime isn’t a gene that runs in families!”

Techno smiled sadly. “I hope not. Get out.”

“What do you mean ‘put a pin in Purpled?’” Tommy demanded.

Techno shrugged him off. “Text me if you leave Bad’s, I’ll come pick you up later.”

Tommy harshly pulled at the car door. “Tubbo won’t be like Dream, and Purpled won’t be like Punz.”

“I never said Purpled was a mercenary!”

Tommy got out of the car, slammed the door, and flipped his brother off before marching away.

Techno was so glad that they didn’t share any DNA. Could you imagine that? But just because they were brother’s out of necessity and foster placement didn’t mean he didn’t care about the kid.

#Technoblade #TommyInnit #Purpled #Fundy #Wilbur Soot #These Streets Are Made For Walking

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vintagedolan · 3 years

Text

mixtape | track eight

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Left or right?”

“Don’t look at me, I never fucking graduated.”

“Right, then you move it to the left,” Lisa offered, attempting to get past Grayson. He was having none of it, sticking out his tongue a bit while he focused on getting Indy’s cap arranged correctly, making sure her tassel was in the right spot.

Indy had passed her finals with flying colors, which came as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Top of the class, which was enough for her to feel a tiny bit proud of herself. The Dolan’s on the other hand, we’re over the moon, ready to celebrate her as if it was the greatest achievement anyone could accomplish. Grayson had picked her up from her last final, coaxing her to take a nap in the truck while he drove them out to Jersey, her head in his lap as she was finally able to relax after so many days of stress. He was glad - he wanted her energy to be high when she got to the house, considering he’d planned out a big family dinner as a surprise. He’d even caved and bought her her favorite non-vegan ice cream. She was so surprised that she cried as soon as she went in and saw Ethan and Lisa in the kitchen with little fake graduation cap headbands on.

Even though surprises weren’t her favorite, he hoped he could sneak in another, considering the real one wasn’t until the next day, and it’s arrival came as a text that buzzed in Grayson’s pocket.

Here!

He cleared his throat quickly, trying to hide his excitement as he stepped back from his girlfriend.

“Hey Indiana, I think there’s something at the door for you,” he said.

She squinted at him in accusation.

“You just called me Indiana.”

“Indeed I did.”

“That’s sus.”

“Just go to the door Dee.”

“Sus.”

“Dee.”

“G.”

“Indiana Jamie Cross, will you please open your door,” he said as formally as he could, knowing it would make her laugh enough to give in.

“If something jumps out and scares me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Holy shit just go open the door before I do it for you.”

She walked slowly but she listened to him, pulling the door open cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were gonna let me in.”

Indiana’s mouth fell open.

“Charlie?!”

Grayson Dolan had learned in the last week that the Cross women were stubborn beings, especially when it came to money. Which was why it took so long for him to convince the older Cross sister to let him buy her and Devin a plane ticket at Thanksgiving.

“We would love to be there, but I just bought the ticket to get out here, and money is kinda tight for us right now. I don’t know if we can swing it so soon again.” Charlie kept her voice down, pretending to look at some of the picture frames on the bookshelf while Grayson talked to her.

“I’ll buy your tickets, both of you, first class.”

“Grayson, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.

“But you didn’t ask. I offered, there’s a difference. C’mon, you know that she’d love to have you there.”

Charlie hesitated, bit her lip the way Indy always did. The back door opened, signaling that everyone was coming back inside and that their conversation needed to end. She looked up at him quickly, eyes darting across the room.

“I’ll think about it.”

It had taken her four days to finally agree and let Grayson send her the money for the tickets, though she insisted on flying coach, sending him back the rest of what he’d given her to cover first class, down to the cent.

Which was how she ended up getting tackled by a very excited Indiana outside her apartment door, so hard that they almost knocked Devin over in a whirl of blonde hair. Grayson caught her cap as it flew off.

“What?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here! I thought you couldn’t come, what the fuck!”

“Ask him,” Charlie laughed, lifting her chin towards Grayson.

She spun, eyes wide and shocked.

“You did this?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the soft eyes emoji right now, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she smacked his chest before she buried her face in it, sniffling.

“Hey, you don’t have to cry, you’ll mess up your mascara,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair before she stood up straight again, letting him swipe his thumbs under her eyes.

Ethan was watching the interaction from the couch with a bit of a frown. He pulled his eyes away and picked at some lint on his henley, but he kept his ears towards the kitchen. There was a tenderness, a careful nature in the way he spoke around Indy. It reminded him of the first time that Grayson had gotten a girlfriend. Peyton. They’d met on the first day of 7th grade, in science class, where Grayson didn’t care to pay attention, especially not with Ethan and the prettiest girl in the grade at his table. Ethan had teased his brother relentlessly until he finally got his words handed back to him when she actually agreed to a date - which involved him picking flowers out of his mom’s window box garden (he got in trouble for it later) and hiding them under his jacket when Sean dropped him off at the movie theatre. They’d kissed each other during the end credits, with tongue according to a very excited Grayson who came home and plopped himself on his brother’s bed and spilled every little detail. Ethan was single at the time, so he could only listen, and watch. Watch the way he carried her books for her to class and then sprinted to his own with only a few seconds to spare before the bell. Watched him beg his mom to dye his hair blonde when Peyton said she thought it would look cool. Watched him pass her notes all of class, not caring when Mrs. Patterson took one and read “I love you so much, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” in front of the whole class that included the majority of his wrestling team. And, he watched the pain on his face when they stumbled across Peyton kissing Jacob Bates behind the bus when she thought Grayson was at wrestling practice. He tried to keep it together, but he sniffled his way through Lisa dying his hair brown that night. Ethan had tried to cheer him up with his usual tactics - stupid inside jokes, making fun of Cameron, even making fun of himself. But Grayson didn’t laugh.

That was when he knew his brother loved hard. He was halfway convinced the reason that Grayson was the bigger twin in the womb was because of the size of his heart. That being said, it wasn’t unusual for Ethan to watch his brother be kind, and sweet, and loving to his girlfriend.

But there was something different with Indy. It was the first time that he could look at Grayson with a girl and see Grayson - unfiltered, unaltered. His twin brother, in his full form, not having changed a single aspect of himself to fit another person. And it made him happy. So happy that for a moment he was able to ignore the guilt that started to rush over him as he remembered all the things he’d said, about how their relationship wouldn’t work, and how Grayson needed to address it. It made him feel worse that he knew he was still right, no matter how in love his brother was.

In the kitchen, Charlie was flicking through settings on her camera.

“I know we have to leave soon, but we have to get at least a few pictures before you get all sweaty cause you get sweaty when you’re nervous,” she said, grabbing her sister’s arm and leading her over to the windows, positioning her with the right lighting.

They took a few normal portraits, some with her cap and some without, a few candids where Charlie did her best to make her laugh as Grayson watched on, the proudest smile on his face.

“Alright, I want one, I want one!” Devin chimed in, surprising both the Cross sisters. They turned to him with the same expression that had him laughing so hard he held his chest. It was the loudest sound that any of the Dolan’s had ever heard come out of him, but it was contagious enough to have them all smiling.

“What?! It’s not every day my little sis graduates college!” He teased, going to ruffle her hair but thinking better of it at the last minute, instead choosing to wrap her up in the biggest hug, her face adorably squished in the picture that Charlie captured.

After that, it was a revolving door of poses with everyone. Lisa fixed Indy’s hair for her before their picture, and Ethan stole her cap and wore it himself. He offered to take the camera, thankful for Charlie’s settings that seemed to work magic as he took a few cute one of the duo, even a few with Indy on Charlie’s back. Devin joined in and they recreated the shoot from their engagement party that Indy still had on the top shelf.

By the time it was Grayson’s turn, Indy’s cheeks were sore from smiling. But she couldn’t help but beam at him as he waltzed over to her in his dress pants and button down, all dressed up for her big day. She did her best to ignore the click of the camera as Grayson fixed her cap, moved her honors cords so they were even where they hung. They took the normal formal poses, and Grayson stole Ethan’s idea of borrowing the cap. But Indy gasped when he tossed it to the side and scooped her up bridal style, laughing as he held her tight and kissed her cheek, even dipped her a bit and looked up at Charlie for the photo op. Indy put it on her mental to-do list to get them printed as soon as she could, beyond excited to see them once Charlie sent them over.

“Okay, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” Lisa said, making sure everyone had what they needed for the short walk to the university. Everyone layered up, but while Grayson disappeared in search of his dress coat, Indy pulled her sister aside.

“Hey um. Did… did Dad talk to you at all this week?”

Charlie’s face melted into pity. “I’m sorry bubs.”

“No it’s fine, it’s no big deal. Didn’t expect him to, I just wanted to check so I didn’t get blindsided or anything if he showed up.”

Charlie just nodded and gave her a small smile. She didn’t tell her little sister that she’d told Kenneth about her graduation - four times, actually. He’d never responded, though she could see that he’d read them. Charlie was so used to making excuses for him that she had a whole list of them backed up. He had to work. Traffic. He wanted to come, but something came up. But when she looked at Indy, who wasn’t so much her little sister anymore, she bit her tongue, put her arm around her and headed out the door.

The ceremony was in the science building. John Clark University didn’t have anywhere big enough to house the entire graduating class, so they opted to split it up into smaller ceremonies by discipline instead.

“It should be pretty quick actually, there’s not a ton of us,” Indy said when they arrived, looking over her shoulder at all the graduates moving to get checked in and lined up.

“We’ll wave when you come out so you can find us!” To Indy’s surprise, Lisa’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Li,” Indy smiled, pulling her in for a last minute hug, trying not to get emotional herself at the fact that a woman who had no obligation to love her cared so much.

“Don’t trip,” Ethan grinned, nudging her shoulder to lighten the mood.

She turned to Grayson, kissing him quickly before she finally headed off, looking back a few times before she disappeared around the corner.

“Okay seats, seats, we gotta get good ones!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately leading the group through the rows - it was a massive lecture hall with the flip down chairs Grayson had only seen in movie theatres and movies. When they finally found five seats together, he found himself wandering what it was like to be in class somewhere so big, with so many other people learning the same thing.

Despite feeling like they were running late, there were plenty more graduates and families that filed into the building, taking their seats and patiently awaiting the procession.

Thirty minutes later they finally began to file through, a straight line of black robes and red and white tassels. Charlie spotted Indiana first, with Grayson a millisecond behind her, both of them standing up to wave until she saw them and waved back. He kept track of her as she went to sit down in her row, kept his eyes on her as best he could while the main speaker began his speech. He didn’t care what he had to say - he only had eyes for his girl, who looked back every so often and offered him a little wave that still had his heart fluttering like they were hiding in the curtains of Emma’s room all over again.

Grayson hadn’t experienced a lot of moments of pride in his lifetime. There were a few he could pinpoint - when Ethan won one of their wrestling tournaments in middle school, when their team won their lacrosse championship. When his mom’s salon won best in the city a few years back, when his sister graduated college. But what he felt in that next moment topped every single one.

The dean of the college of sciences asked everyone to hold their applause, and without any prior consulting, Indy’s entire squad ignored the rule.

“Indiana Jamie Cross. Bachelor’s of Biological Sciences. Summa Cum Laude.”

“WOOOOOO, YEAH DEE!” Grayson yelled it at the top of his lungs, not even noticing the way everyone turned to look at him. He could see Indy’s blush all the way from the stage as they all continued clapping until the next person was called.

For a moment he was afraid she was embarrassed, but when she took her seat again he saw her turn around and blow him a quick kiss. He caught it in the air and threw her a wink, excited to get to her to give her a real one, which was exactly what he did when she finally made it out of the stream of people at the end of the ceremony. Everyone’s hearts melted when he spun her around and planted one on her.

Charlie took a few more pictures of her with her diploma before Grayson spoke back up.

“Alright, coffee’s on me!”

It seemed to have gotten somewhat colder outside as the wind whipped around the buildings, and Indy curled into a much warmer Grayson as the group headed down the sidewalk. He moved his finger to her palm.

P-R-O-U-D-O-F-U

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her blush almost warm enough to soak through his coat.

But it was nothing compared to the redness that spread over her cheeks when she walked into Jets.

“HAPPY GRADUATION INDIANA!”

The cry was championed by Patrick, who stood in the lobby absolutely beaming at her, below a banner that they’d hung above the espresso bars that read the same. Indy didn’t have to ask - the grin on Grayson’s face gave it away. She wanted to ask him how long he’d planned that surprise, how many more he had in store. She felt woefully undeserving, especially when she realized that Patrick had shut down the store for an hour just for her.

“And I thought you giving me free coffee was bad for business,” she said in his ear when she hugged him.

“I don’t know what lover boy over there does but he covered normal sales for the hour and then some,” he mumbled.

One of the baristas handed Ethan a sign that read “closed for private celebration” to hang on the door, and then it was truly time to celebrate. Indy walked behind the bar like she had a million times before, happy to see that everything was still in the same place. Patrick threw her an apron that she jokingly tied on over her robe before she clapped her hands together.

“Alright, who wants what?”

She made some of her best latte art that day - leaves, a flower for Lisa, a slightly lopsided swan for Devin per his request. It felt nice to be in a familiar place doing something she was good at - it blanketed over the uncertainty that had begun to settle in when she realized that everything was on a trajectory of change. She would never sit in another undergraduate course, never have some of her favorite professors again. And there was always the factor of possibly looking at other schools - they all started their programs in the fall, which meant she had time to truly look, if she really wanted to. From her first tour of campus she’d always thought she would be at JCU for her whole academic career, but her mind began to wander when she heard the buzzing of all the other top schools that her cohort were applying to - Baylor, Harvard, and the one that had piqued her interest the most, UCLA.

She’d googled their admission rates one night when Grayson had fallen asleep during a back scratch, and her chances looked good. Really good. But she’d closed the tab quickly - LA was too far away from New York, from home.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” Grayson’s voice was soft as he clinked his mug against hers to get her attention.

“Just thinking,” she smiled, turning her head and tilting up until he kissed her quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Indiana hopped off her barstool and headed back behind the bar, following Patrick who had disappeared to the back storage room. It was like walking into a friend’s house you hadn’t been to in a while when she passed through the swinging door. The freezers on the left and the syrups in organized rows on her right, just like before.

“Don’t even think about trying to do any dishes while you’re here,” Patrick said, his back still to her as she moved to the sink. She’d had too much time to think while she sat and waited for her name to be called during the ceremony - too much empty mental space that could be allotted to all the things she should be doing. Which meant she’d managed to hatch up a whole plan to better herself in more ways than one in a mere 20 minutes.

“Do you guys still have the same insurance policy for employees? Like the new health benefits, the mental health ones that you all put in like two months before I left?”

Patrick turned the water off.

“Yeah, insurance is the same, it covers four therapy sessions a month for anyone who qualifies. But that’s just for full time employees. But I could probably pull a few strings and get you some benefits with part time hours… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine! I was just curious. Thanks.”

Indy turned to leave, jumping a bit when she realized that Charlie was behind her.

“What’re you doing back here?”

“I was looking for Patrick, there’s a delivery guy here with milk,” Charlie explained, but there was a seriousness in her brows that let Indy know that she had not only heard enough of the conversation, but that she was definitely going to have to talk about it later.

Damn.

She pushed the thought aside and put on another smile before they all exited the backroom, laughing at the sight of one of Ethan trying to steam milk. He turned at her entrance and lost his focus, moving the pitcher down too far and spraying almond milk everywhere before the barista who was helping him flipped the wand back up.

“Eden’s on facetime for you over there!” He pointed towards the counter and his phone, which Indy happily picked up to find a beaming Eden, who informed her that she’d sent a card that would probably be there a few days late, but she’d tried. She stayed on FaceTime while they all thanked Patrick again and headed back to the apartment, Lisa unveiling the gift pile and vegan cookie cake she’d managed to sneak in while Grayson had distracted Indiana with questions about his outfit choices. Almost every gift made Indiana cry - just the idea that they’d spent any time thinking about her was enough to have her emotional anyways. But between the blanket that Lisa had embroidered with JCU 20’, Ethan’s gift of a JCU Alumni sweatshirt and Indy’s dream record player that Charlie and Devin had got her, she was teary-eyed. Her mouth fell open when Grayson came out with a giant box from the spare room - she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he’d managed to sneak it in past her - but she didn’t care when she unwrapped it and realized it was a Mastrena.

“You bought me an espresso machine? Grayson! These things cost a fortune!”

“Yeah, but you graduated college! And now you can make lattes all the time.”

“Gray-”

“And you can make me lattes,” he teased, knowing it would take her a while to fully accept it. She just shook her head when he kissed her cheek, overwhelmed.

By the time the night was coming to a close, everyone was piled onto the couch, with Charlie and Indy on their boyfriend’s laps to make room for everyone as they watched Collateral Beauty at Indy’s request. Grayson frowned when she sniffled and held her when she cried, eyes more focused on her than the screen. And he couldn’t say he was too sad to see Lisa and Ethan say goodbye, or for Devin and Charlie to say their goodnights before they disappeared into the spare room.

The duo brushed their teeth in the sink side by side, and Grayson snapped a picture of them in the mirror with a foamy smile before they stripped down to underwear and scurried under the covers.

Indy was just as glad to have him to herself for the first time all day, and she soaked in his warmth, sighing when he pulled her closer.

“I love you. Thank you for today.”

Y-O-U-R-E-W-E-L-C-O-M-E he traced on her shoulder blade, lips on her forehead.

T-I-R-E-D?

“Why?” Grayson smirked, laughing quietly when she smacked his chest.

“It’s been a long day, that’s why.”

“For you,” he corrected.

“You had to sit around and watch me all day though.”

“You say that as if it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy. I could celebrate you everyday baby.”

She blushed at his words, burying her face in his neck.

“For someone as accomplished as you, you really suck at letting people acknowledge your accomplishments,” he teased, running his fingertips over her skin lightly. She did the same over his chest, tracing a hexagon.

“I’m… I’m not used to people being proud of me I guess.”

Grayson frowned and pulled back and looked at her, really looked in her eyes. They were still the color of the jellyfish, just a bit duller in the low light of her bedroom.

“I’m proud of you Indiana.” He paused, offering her a small smile. “But you know what? I’m not the most proud.”

Indy waited.

“Your mom. She’s gotta be the most proud of you. She’s seen every single minute you put in to get where you are right now.”

She crumpled into his chest, and the tears that had threatened her all day finally fell, hot and salty as they traveled onto his skin. It was quiet in the room for a while, and Grayson waited patiently - quietly, until she spoke again.

“I felt her today. She was there.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see her or anything. But I had a dream about her the other night though, and it felt like she was really there with me. And it felt like that today too. Does that ever happen to you? With your dad?”

“Oh all the time. He’s always with me. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times - like when I’m about to do stupid shit, or make a mistake, I can hear him clear as day in my head. But it’s comforting, you know? Knowing they’re there, watching over us.”

“Yeah.” Indy’s throat was tight all over again. She wished she could have met Sean for a moment, and then she realized that in some ways, in knowing Grayson, she had.

“You know, one of the things that really stuck with me, towards the end, was something his nurse said. Her name was Charlotte, and she must have been working fucking overtime because she was always there. But one day I was in the hallway, cause I just needed a break, and she came and sat down next to me on the floor. And at that point, I mean we knew. We didn’t know when, but we knew. And she looked at me and she said ‘sweetheart, this is a gift for him. He gets so much more time with you, because he can always be with you instead of only sometimes.’ And I remember, I was so fucking mad at her, because who the fuck says that shit to someone whose about to lose their parent? But she was right. She was so fucking right.

“And while the doctors were in and out, giving us all these numbers and all these timelines and all that, Charlotte was the only one who really told me anything that mattered. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my dad didn’t want to know anything about his… his cancer. He didn’t want to know his counts, or how much time he had left. He never asked, and she was the only one who stood by him in that, made sure that he didn’t know anything he didn’t want to. And it meant so much to him, in the end, that he had that choice. That was one of the only things he asked us to do, before he went. He told us not to cry, and he told us to take care of Ma, and Cam, but he told us to look out for Charlotte too. When we could think, we went back to the unit, asked the other nurses if there was anything she needed, and it turns out she’d been driving a 1995 Honda for a decade, and she didn’t think it would make it through the rest of the winter. We bought her an SUV, and I still don’t think she knows it was us, but I swear my dad told me which one to get for her. And he was so fucking proud.”

Indiana hung on his every word, watching him as he watched the ceiling, like he always did when he talked about his father.

“He has so much to be proud of Grayson. He helped raise a wonderful, wonderful man. The best, actually.”

Her voice snapped him out of his own head, and he turned to her quickly, worried.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for that. I like hearing about your dad, and it’s good to get it out sometimes. You can tell me anything that’s on your mind, you know that.”

He looked at her, there in his arms, eyes a bit puffy from tears passed, that soft smile on her lips that was somehow more endearing than her full one, and he felt tears of his own start to prickle. He knew she meant it, knew she would be understanding, and that somehow made it worse.

What was he supposed to say? I love you so much, and I think you’re the love of my life, but our lives are completely different, and I promised I wouldn’t ask you to go to LA, and I’m terrified of losing you and I don’t want to hurt you.

His lips parted, and then he closed them again. She yawned so hard that her nose scrunched, and when she was done she curled back up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

“M’tired,” she mumbled, which meant she was already half asleep.

He pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing the same letters she spoke.

“I love you more.” His voice was tight as his finger moved against the back of her arm, and he turned the lamp off before any of his tears fell.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When Indiana woke up, Grayson’s arms were like a cage around her. Usually, they were still somewhat intertwined when they woke, but she’d never had to maneuver her way out of his arms with so much force before.

She finally managed it, and replaced herself with a pillow that he gladly pulled to his chest. Indy couldn’t help but to lean over and brush some of his floppy hair out of his eyes, staring for a moment before she pulled herself away and headed into the kitchen.

The reason for her early wake up was standing in front of the fridge, with a head of blonde hair that resembled a birds nest.

When she turned around, she looked guilty as ever.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Indy reassured her sister with a smile, moving over to the coffee machine. “It’s 10 anyways, I’m surprised I slept that long.”

Grayson had gotten her a newer version that was actually fairly quiet, but she made sure both the bedroom doors were shut before she ground the espresso for her latte, and Charlie’s flat white.

Charlie was nice enough to wait until she had her mug to bring it up.

“So.”

Indy sighed. “So.”

“You asked Patrick about insurance stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to work there again?”

“I have to pay rent somehow, don’t I?”

“Dad pays your rent.”

“I don’t want dad to pay my rent, that’s the whole issue.”

“Okay, but you didn’t ask Patrick about salary, you asked him about insurance. For mental health specifically.”

“You know, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Are you okay? Because you know that you can always talk to me about stuff, whatever it is. And I know I’m not the best about talking about mom, but I can try, I’ve been doing better with it and-”

“Char. Stop. It’s not about mom.”

“Oh.” It was obvious by her long pause that she hadn’t considered an alternative, but Indy waited anyways.

“Then… what’s going on?”

Indy toyed with the foam on her latte with her finger, ignoring how hot it was.

“I was thinking about trying to get a handle on the plane thing.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want it to be such a big deal for me to just, fucking fly somewhere. I gotta get over that shit.”

Charlie pondered it for a minute, and she chose her next words carefully.

“Just to fly? Or to fly to a specific place.”

Indy laughed.

“You know, you’ve never been good at subtle. You got that from mom. But no, I’m not just doing it because of Grayson.”

“Did he ask you to?”

“Of course not, he wouldn’t do that.” Charlie’s shoulders relaxed. “But he does live in LA, which means I’ve gotta be able to fly out there.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Oh. Doesn’t he leave soon though?”

“January.” She said it casually.

“Inds that’s next month.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Charlie had a million more questions, but she held her tongue and sipped her coffee.

“I’ve gotta pack, our flight leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming you don’t have any breakfast food.”

“Actually, I do, but I’m not the breakfast chef around here.”

She sat her mug down on the counter and threw Charlie a wink before she headed back into her room as quietly as she could, sneaking up to the edge of the bed. Grayson had rolled to his stomach, something in his unconscious realizing that the pillow that he’d tossed away was in fact not his girlfriend. He almost looked too adorable to disturb.

Almost.

She went the gentle route, changing her mind on the pounce plan that she’d originally made. Instead, she crawled up the mattress and over his back, laying down on top of him with her cheek pressed to his warm shoulder.

He grunted a bit, but it turned into a sigh when she started peppering kisses along his skin.

“Mornin gorgeous,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What’re you doin’ back there?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Well- “ he rolled slightly, just enough to pull her over his side and onto the mattress so he could move right back with her underneath him -” maybe you should hang out down here instead.”

She relaxed into him like she always did, peppering kisses against his chest. Her hands ran over the ripples of muscles in his arms before she stopped and traced.

B-R-E-A-K-F-A

“Ahhh, so you didn’t just come in here for cuddles huh,” Grayson cut her off with a smile, quirking an eyebrow when she looked up at him.

“If you make us all avocado toast I’ll pay you in cuddles,” she offered. It puffed up Grayson’s chef alter ego just enough to convince him to get out of bed and throw some pants on. Indy stayed closed to him, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the morning as she helped him prep everything for breakfast. She could have done it, but Grayson’s pride at a very nicely laid out plate of avo toast, strawberries and honeydew was the best addition she could make. So she stuck to the coffees instead, passing over mugs as Devin appeared and Charlie followed, though she was still working on her cup from earlier.

“Well, now I see how he turned you into a breakfast person,” she said, graciously accepting a plate. They ate over quiet conversation, enjoying the last little bit of time they had before the airport and the inevitable goodbye. Grayson had bonded with the duo even more during their visit, and he was sad to see them having to leave again so soon. When Indy went to change, Grayson followed her, frowning when she didn’t pick her warmest jacket.

“It’s supposed to get really cold out, you’ll probably want your big one,” he said as subtly as he could, popping his knuckles as he spoke.

“I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer today,” she pouted. “We’re only gonna be outside to walk to the car.”

“Right, but you’re always cold. Just wear that one.” He gave her his most dazzling smile and she gave in, sliding in on before she left. Grayson was grateful that she listened - it meant he didn’t have to reveal his final graduation surprise too soon. He bit his tongue on the drive to the airport, gave out his hugs to Charlie and Devin, squeezing Indy into his side when she sniffled at the sight of her sister disappearing into the terminal.

Indy didn’t have a single suspicion until Grayson took a different turn into the city, much earlier than usual - 50th, instead of 26th.

“Bub? This is the wrong way.”

“No it isn’t.”

“We get off on 26th for the garage.”

“We aren’t going to the garage.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face - the sheepish one that always made Indy’s heart flutter. She’d seen it so many times, but it still had the same effect on her every single time.

“Well then where are we going?” There was a childlike excitement in her voice that made Grayson laugh. He pulled her hand up to his face, kissed her skin softly.

“You’ll see.”

The first stop it seemed, was a jewelry store.

“This is not the surprise by the way, just an errand. Gotta pick up a christmas gift for mom.”

“I was gonna get her a sweater for christmas, do you think she’ll like that?”

“Li does love a good sweater. She’ll love anything you get her though, you’re the favorite.”

Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t respond as one of the workers came up and asked what they were there for. When Grayson gave his name she headed to the back and came back out with a small box.

“May I?” She asked.

Grayson nodded, waiting for her to open it. Inside was a beautiful ring, silver and delicate, with a large light blue stone in a princess cut.

“It’s beautiful,” Indy mused.

“Blue topaz. My dad’s birthstone. Mine and E’s too. You think she’ll like it?”

“Gray she’ll love it, of course she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” His nerves were evident - he was always on a mission to make sure that his mom still had a good Christmas, although she always said all she needed was to have her kids back under her roof for the day. He paid the final portion of the ring payment and slipped the box into his pocket, waiting until they were back outside to turn to Indy with a wide smile.

“Now, we really celebrate.”

They walked hand in hand down the street. Indy kept her protests to herself - she wasn’t used to being spoiled in any way. In fact, it still made her uncomfortable when anyone spent money on her in any form, but she tried to remind herself that money didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. So when they strolled up to one of the nicer restaurants in the city for a late lunch, she bit her tongue and tried not to think about the prices, following him inside to the warmth. It was dimly lit, the type of place where the host would take your coat off and pull your chair out for you.

Grayson beat him to it, fingers brushing over her shoulders while he pulled her coat off. She felt underdressed in just jeans and a sweater, but he looked at her like she hung the moon for him and him alone, and she wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day in their lives together that he couldn’t make her blush just by looking at her.

The menu didn’t even have prices next to the items, and it made Indy’s mouth dry enough for her to finish her water before the waiter even came back for their order.

Grayson noticed. He always noticed. He reached a hand across the small table for her hand, thumb running over her smooth acrylics that she’d gotten pre-graduation.

“Why are you nervous bub?”

“This place is expensive,” she explained after a moment’s hesitation.

“And graduating college a year early is a feat worth celebrating,” he reminded her, raising up his wine glass filled with water. “Despite the fact that you seem to hate being celebrated.”

“I don’t hate being celebrated. I’m just… not used to it I guess. Wasn’t a big Cross family thing, even before.”

“Well, it’s a big Dolan family thing.”

“I guess I better get used to it then.”

She clinked her glass against his as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hidden by the lighting. He pushed the thoughts from his head, the constant nagging he seemed to never be able to escape from, the better part of his conscience begging him to do the right thing, to tell her what he was thinking. She didn’t deserve for him to drag it out if he really was going to end things - she deserved so much more, more than he could give her with the life that he led. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something she’d reel him back in with a smile, or a witty comment, or just a look, entirely unaware of what she was doing. And he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but the spot that she’d managed to carve out in his soul in just a few short months. He knew deep down he’d never find anyone else to fill it, but he also knew that she deserved to live the life she wanted to. A life without a boyfriend whose life interfered with hers. He just didn’t know how to reconcile with the fact that he would break her heart, and his own in the process.

So, he ignored his conscience and gave in to the selfish side of himself.

When she asked where he’d gone, he said he was planning, and it wasn’t a lie. If he was only going to have so many days with her, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice a single moment.

So he held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food, striking up a conversation about college memories and her classmates that she would miss the most. The food was as incredible as he expected, and he made a mental note to thank Ethan for the recommendation. Grayson made sure that Indy didn’t see the inside of the bill when the waiter brought it, even being careful to slip the $200 in cash in the billfold practically under the table.

He led her back out into the cold, for once thankful for the early sunset of NYC that already had the city lights glowing against the fading sky. There was something magical about it, about existing on the streets with so many other people, knowing each one of them had their own story and life that they led. Indy people watched as Grayson led her safely down the streets, letting her cling onto his arm for comfort and warmth. It was only a few blocks until they saw the metallic flags and turned the corner to find the Rockefeller Center tree, massive and glorious in its height. It was speckled with what seemed like millions of lights, all twinkling in bright colors amongst the branches.

“Wow.”

Grayson watched the wonder on her face with a chuckle. “You’re a New Yorker, aren’t you supposed to be used to this shit?”

She smacked his arm, but kept her eyes forward. “I haven’t been to see it in years. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

He let her admire it as long as she wanted, resting his cheek against the top of her head when she leaned over on him.

“You wanna get closer?”

She frowned at him. “How?”

Grayson started walking with her in tow, down the stairs and around the plaza until he got to the ground level, fishing two tickets out of his jacket pocket for the attendant at the front of the ice rink. Indiana squeezed his arm.

“Gray. Baby, this is so sweet, but I can’t skate for shit.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he laughed, shaking his head before he kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

They checked out their skates quickly, lacing up on one of the benches before Indy rose on wobbly feet, immediately letting out a squeal and reaching for her boyfriend. He caught her with a laugh, adjusting his own balance before they started walking to the edge of the ice. That familiar Grayson confidence was evident as he stepped on, getting his bearings before he reached out a hand for her.

“C’mon, I’ve got you. You got this, just one foot at a time.”

She grabbed both his hands and let him counteract her weight as she tried to get her footing, finally finding her balance after a moment of wobbling.

“Okay, now push off with one foot and glide with the other. Like this.”

He went to let go to demonstrate, and she clung to his hands with a squeak. “Don’t let go!”

Grayson’s cackle bounced off the ice. “Okay, okay! I’m right here, you’re good. Just try.”

Indy didn’t like not being good at things. But god was she terrible at ice skating. It didn’t matter how much instruction Grayson tried to give her, it was like it refused to translate into the movement of her legs. She was adorable when she was frustrated, but Grayson wanted it to be enjoyable for her too, so after a few laps around of watching her struggle he slid behind her, hands solid on her hips.

“Just keep your legs and feet straight, and I’ll do the rest.”

She held onto his hands as he started to push her along - she’d forgotten that he was annoyingly athletic but the feeling of actually gliding across the ice kept her from teasing him about it. It was peaceful, and despite the crowd both on the ice and above them by the tree, she felt like they were the only two in the city.

Grayson took them through the middle after they’d gone around a few times, towards the center for one pass and she squeezed his hand when they got there.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned his skates, throwing a bit of ice onto her ankles on accident, peaking over her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Turn me around. Please.”

He did as she asked, faster than he meant to, and it had her nails digging into his shoulders as he tried to hold her up without them both going down. She was breathing fast when he got them steady, quirking an eyebrow.

“We gotta take a picture in front of the tree!”

He obliged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning them slowly until the tree was behind them, snapping a few of the two of them smiling before he kissed her cheek, and then her lips, randomly pressing the button and hoping they were still in frame.

Her lips were cold against his, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick she’d put on before they’d left the restaurant. It sent tingles down the back of his neck that made him put his phone back in his pocket and pull her closer to him.

Wrong move. He’d never met someone so uncoordinated in his life, and it was the closest call of them all when her legs started to flail. His only hope of saving her from hitting the ice was to pick her up fully and hope that he could keep his balance with the sudden weight shift.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, clinging to his neck while he laughed.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he teased, and in a moment of confidence he dipped her down like they were dancing and kissed her again. The same tingle went down his neck, the hair there standing up, still there even when he sat her on her skates again, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist.

Above them, as if someone had turned on a machine, it began to snow. Big fluffy flakes fell around them, disappearing into Indy’s light hair and speckling the top of Grayson’s. It was magic in its simplest form, and Indy couldn’t help but beam at him.

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he said, and he meant it.

They headed off the ice a few minutes before their session expired, unlacing their boots with numb fingers that they shoved in their pockets for the walk back to the truck. As soon as they climbed in the cab Grayson blasted the heat and opened an arm for Indy to cuddle up next to him. Once they were thawed enough, Grayson proposed the idea of hot chocolate, specifically to help the fact that Indy’s teeth were still chattering. Which was how they ended up at Jet’s 40 minutes later, squished together in the blue chair by the window, watching the snow fall as they sipped peppermint hot chocolates that Patrick had given them on the house. Grayson dropped a 20 in the tip jar anyways.

The lobby was busy, with people in and out constantly, wiping the snow off their shoes as best they could on the small doormat. They shuffled through the line, a few of them sitting down for a moment to wait for their names to be called. Indy was used to the bustle, though she felt a bit guilty that she wasn’t behind the bar helping out when she had the skills to. Instead, she just smiled any time a barista looked her way, and spent the rest of her time watching the snow outside.

Grayson’s eyes were on a girl. A few girls, actually, who looked oddly familiar though he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They’d sat at a table towards the back of the store, having come in right behind him and Indy. But since then they’d moved forward one table, and then another, and the not so subtle way that two of them had angled their phone had that familiar prickle at the back of his neck rising again. He shifted in his chair quickly, turning his head away and attempting to do his best to block the view of Indiana.

“Hey, you ready to get outta here?”

“Did you finish already?” She asked, surprised considering her cup was still half full.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just figured we could get home and change into some cozy pjs is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Indy moved in to kiss his cheek, and though he tried to pull away, he didn’t do it fast enough.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Two for two. “Let’s just get home.”

The walk was as short as ever, but it was enough time for Indy’s mind to race. Had he been annoyed that she said something about the restaurant being expensive? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to help her ice skate - most people could at least hold themselves up on the rails at least. But he’d seemed so happy, which somehow made her feel worse, that she’d missed it somehow.

By the time they made it to the elevator, she was borderline panicking.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something?”

Her words broke Grayson out of his own thoughts, and he rushed into reassurances.

“No, it’s not you baby. It’s not, I promise.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

“I’m good, really. Just wanted to get home.”

For the first time in her almost three months of knowing Grayson, she didn’t believe him. But she knew when to drop a subject, so she just nodded and followed him out of the elevator.

Half of Grayson’s wardrobe seemed to have migrated into Indy’s apartment, so it wasn’t hard to find cozy clothes that had them curled up together on the couch in no time. Grayson felt guilty, and tried to distract himself by running his fingers through her soft hair, tried to focus on the weight of her leaned against him. She was quiet as she scrolled through show after show, not really looking. She picked a random cooking show eventually just to fill the silence in the room, moving to lay across Graysons lap. His hand moved under her shirt, fingers still a bit cold as he ran them lightly over her skin.

She didn’t say anything, just glad to have him there with her. She traced on top of his sweatpants, shapes and words, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U. The fabric was so thick that he could barely make out what she was writing.

“Thank you? For what?”

She rolled over so she was looking up at him. “For today. For celebrating me.”

He traced a thumb over her cheek. “You’re welcome. I love you. So much.”

“C’mere,” Indy said, reaching up for him. It took some shifting, but eventually they got settled where they were laying together on the couch, with her pressed between the cushions and his chest. She was warm as she kissed him, slow and calculated, trying to get across to him that she was there for whatever he was going through without the words. He reciprocated, but his mind was still spinning, images of the girls and their phones behind his eyelids.

The kiss faded out into cuddles which faded into an uncomfortable silence that Indy was desperate to resolve.

“What’s the update on the tiny homes? Weren’t the floor guys supposed to come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, Ethan went out there and said they were almost done. We’ve got some interior designers coming out tomorrow and then they’ll be done-done,” Grayson explained, heart rate rising as yet another opportunity to tell her came up.

“They really got those done so fast. I guess that’s a perk of a tiny home though, not much floor space to floor. How often do you guys think you’re gonna come out and stay in them?”

He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to tell her.

“Well, actually-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a call from Ethan.

He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he fished his phone out of his pocket anyways, sliding over to answer.

“Yo.”

“Hey, mom wants to put up the christmas decs tomorrow cause she still doesn’t have them up. You remember where we put the lights?”

“Yeah, they’re in the attic I think, with the tree.”

“Well, you’re the family santa, so get your ass out here early tomorrow to hang some lights. And bring Indy too, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t make breakfast, we’ll bring donuts or something.”

“Fuck you, be here at 10.”

He hung up, making Grayson roll his eyes and look down at Indy.

“You up for Christmas decorating tomorrow at home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! But I’m sure as fuck not getting on the roof.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do the roof, you can do the stuff inside with Ma. Deal?”

“Deal,” she smiled, wiggling up to kiss him again, trying to chase out the rest of her worries before she curled up into his chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snow had piled onto the sides of the highway in ugly mounds stained with dirt and asphalt drudged up by the plows. So Indy kept her eyes on the trees as they flew by, specifically the evergreens she saw, with their green bristles weighted down with white, heavy and thick.

“Are you sure you guys wanna get on the roof with all this? Won’t it be slick?”

“Nah, Dad used to do it all the time. I’ll just make E shovel while I try to find the clips we put up there last year. Besides, if I fall off I’ve got a doctor to mend me up,” he teased, squeezing her leg.

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Okay, well an almost doctor then. How many years until you’re actually one again?”

“11 years minimum. Well, 10 for me cause I skipped a year in undergrad. But it could be up to 16, depending on how long my residency would go.”

“And you’re gonna do it all through JCU?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan right now,” she mumbled, eyes still focused out the window.

“Hey,” he got her attention, waiting for her to turn to him. “You’re gonna be an amazing doctor someday. You’re gonna help so many people. Just having you in the room, doing the little things for people, that’s gonna mean more to those people than you even realize. They’re gonna be really lucky to have you.”

The sentiment seemed to arise out of nowhere, but she still blushed at his kind words. “The little things are actually more the nurses, but thank you.”

He let her watch the trees for the rest of the drive, and she was so focused on them that she barely noticed Ethan already on the roof when they pulled in.

He had a bright orange shovel in his hands, the scoop full of snow that he began to swing back and forth once they stepped out of the car, shoes crunching the snow below them.

“Don’t you dare!” Indy called, but it was too late. The snow was already flying and she squealed, grabbing Grayson and pulling him out of the way while it rained down right where they had been standing.

A moment later and Lisa was outside, hands on her hip with the menacing energy only a mom could produce.

“Ethan Grant! That’s how you fall and bust your fucking head open! Knock it off!”

Grayson bit back a laugh when Ethan kicked a tiny bit more snow off the edge so it sprinkled down by Lisa.

“Will you get up there before he falls off please?” She turned to Grayson, exasperated. “Indy, come in, it’s cold.”

It was Indiana’s turn to laugh when Lisa hooked their arms together and led her into the house, leaving Grayson out in the snow. He grabbed the lights that Ethan had already gotten out, looping his arm through before he headed up the ladder at the lowest point of the roof.

“I’ve already done the other side of the house, so I’m just here for moral support and to save your ass if I need to, my job is done,” Ethan explained, moving over to a spot by the chimney to sit down.

“Oh yeah, you shoveled on a downhill slope, the horror,” Grayson muttered, but in all honesty he would rather do the lights himself anyways.

They talked about the tiny homes and the final touches they needed while Grayson moved around the roof carefully, trying to counteract his balance when he got closer to the edge, cursing his mom silently for having roofs so high that they couldn’t do it from the top of a ladder.

The front of the house went without incident, and Ethan begrudgingly helped by holding the extra lights while Gray strung them. But when Ethan went down the ladder to get the next strand to connect, he took a minute too long to come back up. Grayson tried to use what little patience he was born with, but it fizzled out quickly, making him stomp across the roof to the edge.

“Yo, what the fucks taking so long?”

“Gray.”

“Can you not find them or what?”

“Grayson.”

He didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice.

“What? What happened?”

“Come down here.”

Grayson took the ladder so quickly that his feet almost slipped, but he was at his brother’s side in a moment, taking his phone that he had outstretched.

His stomach dropped into the snow under his feet as he began to scroll with a numb thumb. There were pictures. So many pictures, and Indy was in every single one of them. Tweet after tweet with different screenshots of the two of them - looking at the tree, ice skating, sitting in Jets, even walking down the street. He pieced it together, realized that the reason the girls had looked familiar was because they’d followed them.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Bile rose in his throat when he found a video, zoomed in as far as it would go with surprising quality as he pushed Indy along on the ice, towards the middle of the rink. He watched her squeeze his hands and laugh, watched himself turn her around so they could get their picture, watched himself kiss her cheek and her lips.

He didn’t want to read, but he couldn’t help himself. There were a few familiar handles that talked about how happy they were for him, but the majority of it was exactly what he expected.

So much for ‘working on himself’ he’s back on the constant girlfriend trend

Didn’t think she was his type but okayyyyy I guess 🥴

When we said we didn’t want Grayson to end up with an LA girl, we didn’t mean ~that~

Her insta is indiana.jamie, i’ve never even heard of her

The worst was a two set of images from Jet’s, where her face was in plain view. The second one had edited lighting, and was zoomed in on his pocket, with the text above it.

Look I know I sound crazy but WTF IS IN HIS POCKET? IS THAT A RING BOX? GRAY BABY NOOOOOOO

“Fuck.” He couldn’t find another word, and Ethan was no help. A call from Adele came in on his phone, and E looked at him for approval. He just nodded and let him answer, turning away and heading into the house, not even bothering to clean his boots.

“Dee! Indiana!”

“In here!” She called back and he jogged into the living room, not realizing he was breathless until he got there and saw that the tree had been assembled. She had an ornament in her hand when he ran in and she put it on the tree quickly, her stomach tightening at the look on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Where’s your phone, have you looked at your phone?”

“It’s over there, it’s just been playing music. Baby what’s wrong?”

He ran over to it, muttering out a ‘shit’ when the screen lit up, both at the flood of notifications and the fact that her lockscreen had changed to their picture from the ice.

“Woah.” She took her phone from him, unlocking it and heading after all the notifications on instagram. “Holy shit. I got 3,500 new followers, what the fuck?”

“Indy, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her phone and looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should have thought about it, there’s not usually paps in New York, I didn’t even think about fans, and now everyone’s tweeting a bunch of bullshit about you, I’m just, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Slow down,” she murmured, hand moving to his face. She saw Lisa leave the room out of the corner of her eye, but she kept looking at Grayson. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen.”

“They saw the ring box in my pocket in some of the pictures, they probably think we’re fucking engaged, and they’re gonna be relentless. Every time you get online you’re gonna see some bullshit about you because of me.”

“Gray, it’s alright. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t, nobody can, it’s gonna get to you. If you say it doesn’t effect you, you’re fucking lying.” He ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, sucking in a breath that Indiana recognized.

“Gray, don’t cry. Look, look.” She unlocked her phone again, exited instagram and held down until it shook, deleting it quickly from her phone. “I don’t even post much anyways. And I don’t have a twitter, I’m not gonna see what they say about me. I don’t care, I promise you I don’t.”

Her gut told her a different story. Though it wasn’t her favorite quality of herself, Indy liked to be liked. It was natural, but she sought validation from other people more than she wanted to, and it made her dangerously curious to see what had caused such a visceral reaction in her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head. She got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

And for the first time in his almost three months of knowing Indiana, he didn’t believe her.

#WOOOOOO #I hope you guys like it!#let me know what you think pls :')#mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic

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handmadecp · 3 years

Text

Bike Tool Pouch

Hi Guys, sorry it’s been a few weeks but life and Covid got in the way for a bit after the Large explorer bag. But I finally got some free time to sit down and make something. This time I purchased a pattern from Tony See at Dieselpunk.ro ( ‘ro’ standing for ‘Romania’..I think. ). The pattern is actually for a Bag with either carry handles or a shoulder strap, but I want the main body of this pattern to alter it into a Pouch / saddle bag for my bike to carry a few tools and maybe a spare inner tube etc and I gotta say....it has turned out great. See for yourself and join me in this short build along to see me put this lovely little pouch / saddle bag together. It’s a fairly easy build and I would recommend it to a more ‘adventurous’ beginner. As usual as I am hoping to peek the interest of a few of you to give it a go yourself I will add that Leather crafting can be expensive and can become addictive...in a good way. But Leather, especially in the UK is very expensive, so maybe pick a small project as your first one to keep costs down whilst you learn. That being said, this is an amazing hobby and very satisfying when your skill level increases and you start to see better results. I almost forgot, I have been getting into making videos of me building these projects and I show them on my new YOUTUBE Channel called Shamancraftprojects, I hope you will drop by for a look, My filming and editing skills will improve with time, but they are fun to watch. If you do would you please ‘Like’ Subscribe and click the Bell and click on ‘ALL’ so you will know when I put a new one up. Thanks. Ok,, lets get into it.

Pic 1: Turned out great, not very difficult to make and recommended for adventurous beginners. I keep getting asked How long it will take,...well, how long is a piece of string ? ..I took 3 days to make this but that’s with normal life getting in the way, so it all depends how long you can give it your attention for really. Let’s crack on.

Pic 2 : As always the patterns are printed out in ‘sections’ which have to be cut out and taped together to make the full pattern, this bit came in two halves which I’ve taped together across the middle with decorators paper tape. All other pieces are treated the same way and then any holes are punched out as per the markings. I have shown this many times in past projects so if you have any issues go check out my archive, I’m sure the information you want will be in there.

Pic 3 : I have used a Walnut water stain dye by fiebings, I use this color a lot, it’s one of my favourites and for me personally it gives leather the color most people expect leather to be..traditionally speaking that is, but feel free to dye your projects any color you wish it’s your project. Once all the patterns were transferred and the parts were cut out of the leather, I first hand stitched the top flap onto the main body as seen here using a saddle stitch.

Pic 4 : For all those out there who have followed my projects from the beginning, six years ago...wow time flies, firstly..thank you and please tell your friends,...anyyyhoooo..for all of you regulars you will remember that I enjoy hand stitching and the saddle stitch is my ‘go to’. My stitching has definitely improved thanks to practice and also to the advice given to me by many people..thanks guys if you are seeing this for all your help and free advice and from videos on youtube. Here you can see the stitching in a nice consistant line, if your stitching is ‘wobbly’ check when you do it how you cross your needles over on the first stitch, if your left needle goes behind the right needle keep doing that...and continue crossing them the same on every stitch. If your fingers hurt a lot, do four or five stitches lightly and ‘then’ pull tight...that’s approx five stitches for one pull...less stress than pulling on every stitch.

Pic 5 : Here I’ve cut a couple of the ‘skirt’ pieces ( just what I call them ) that will stitch to the end pieces to enable them to be connected to the main body as you will see later and also the front strap that will ‘pop’ over a ‘Sam Brown’. on the left are the two pieces that will eventually hold ‘D’ rings.

Pic 6 : On the main Pattern the straps are intended as carry handles as you will see if you watch the Build Tutorial Video put out by ‘Tony See’ at Dieselpunk.ro. But as I’m making it into a Tool Pouch I have used the part of the strap that will be stitched to the main body but I have cut it in half and shortened the strap to take a buckle. In this pic you see the strap cut in half and positioned ready for stitching after a buckle is fitted.

Pic 7 : if you zoom in you will see here that the strap was cut in half, however, since doing this I realise that cutting it isn’t necessary if you just remember to make one end shorter whilst leaving it longer on the other end so you can cut it to the required length later. Also here you can see the shorter ‘button’ strap is fitted. If you would like to see the build in more detail I have a four part build video with audio on Youtube ‘Shamancraftprojects’. titled ‘Bike Tool Pouch PT1, PT2, PT3, and PT4. I also have a shop now on ‘Folksy’ where I sell a lot of my projects, this one is for myself but I will be making more of these. I no longer have a shop on ETSY and for anyone wondering why, after being on it so long, they were taking 3/4s of my money on each sale and ripping me off in other smaller charges, seemed like more every week, so I’m now on ‘Folksy’. That being said..lets carry on.

Pic 8 : Stitching the ‘D’ring holders and ‘skirts’ on to the end sections starting on the smaller underside piece then fold the top over and stitch the upper one ‘over’ the under one.

Pic 9 : Here is what I call the ‘skirt’ as it stitches around the edge of the end section on one side and then stitches to the main section on the other side, hence the two rows of holes.

Pic 10 : Here I am putting on the ‘Skirt’, (mainly because I can’t remember what it’s called hahaha ) ...onto the second of the two end sections. It’s a simple thing to do, you just find the center mark on the two pieces which are marked on the pattern, so make sure to look for them on your pattern and to mark them on your leather as these are the starting points for the stitching.

Pic 11 : Once the ‘skirt’ is attached the next step was to attach the ‘D’ ring holders on as seen here. I bought the ‘Kit’ of buckles,rivets etc from Dieselpunk.ro also.

Pic 12 : Next I attached the end pieces to the main body, I used a clip to hold the two edges together leaving the four holes I neded to stitch, as seen here on the main body one end is already done, the outside holes are to be stitched to the end sections.

Pic 13 : Here, I’m stitching an end section to the main body using the saddle stitch.

Pic 14 : Another view showing the outside stitching now incorporating the ‘left over’ outside holes as I go around the outside.

Pic 15 : Once done they should pull to shape like this.

Pic 16 : Now the buckles and ‘Sam Brown’ need fitting.

Pic 17 : The Buckles and Sam Brown are fitted, very easy to do even for a beginner and I think a Beginner ...once they can stitch, should be fine making this. ‘Stays will be fitted later to hold the straps better.

Pic 18 : Here I’ve fitted the ‘stays’. Now to make some straps to attach the bag to the Bike.

Pic 19 : As I’ve said, straps are no problem to make, I just cut two small ones and riveted them to the bag and then fitted buckles to them and riveted the straps to them as shown here.

Pic 20 : Plenty of strap here to connect it to the frame of the Bike.

Pic 21 : Ta daaaa, I always wanted one of these on my bike to carry tools, spare inner tubes, puncture kit, gloves, hat etc. There’s more room than at first appears in this neat little bag. I recommend this project for beginners, but practice the saddle stitch first. You don’t have to use veg tan but I would recommend using a firm material that will last. I can re water proof this bag and treat it with balm now and again to keep it in good condition, I coated this in Effax Leather Balm. Hope you have enjoyed this small project, after the explorer bag I wanted a quick easy project and this fit the bill nicely. More to come, watch this space. I hope some of you will have a go yourself. ‘till next time...Stay Crafty, Stay Safe.

#bike bags #saddle bag #leather tool pouch #pouch

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outlier-rookie · 4 years

Text

Blood Red (Charles/Reader)

Based on the Camp Conversation where Micah calls Charles Redskin.

Can be read as platonic, familial or romantic.

---

“Can I ask you something Charles?”

Charles looked up from the venison cooking over the fire at you. He said nothing but gestured for you to continue.

“Did something happen? You were in one hell of a mood before we left.”

“It’s nothing.” He replied, turning the meat over.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that Charles.” came your reply. He sighed, choosing to remain silent as he focused on the meat over the fire. The sound of the fire crackling and the juices of the meat spitting were the only sounds to fill the night. He was almost thankful you didn’t push for an answer, but the feeling of hiding away from what Micah had said left a bad taste in his mouth. The silence between the two of you stretched on for a while longer until the meat had finished cooking as you both tucked in.

“Micah was being his usually self.” Charles eventually revealed. A huff from your side of the fire brought a smile to his face.

“Damn that man. He’s no good for us and yet, Dutch is adamant that we’re all wrong about him.” The latter half of your reply was coated with distaste. “So what’d he do this time?”

“Nothing more than usual.”

“That’s my point. His usual is insulting everyone who ain’t like himself. As if anyone would want to be a greasy weasel like him. Honestly I’m surprised Javier hasn’t gutted him already. I know I’m damn close to cutting him open myself; to hell with what Dutch says about him.”

Despite the heat of your words, Charles felt himself calm somewhat. While Dutch may have been able to rally people to his side with long speeches and honeyed words filled with the promise of a better tomorrow, you lit fires in people with your passion. He’d watched you before, talking to Lenny and Hosea about seemingly anything; Mary-Beth too! You seemingly thirsted for knowledge and wanted to know why. Why someone held such an opinion? Why they believed in this or that or didn’t. Was their view different before? What caused them to change their minds.

“You still with me Chuck?” The nickname brought him back out of his head with a laugh.

“I am forever thankful that you do not call me that around camp.”

“Hey now,” You chuckled “Can’t have anyone else calling you Chuck. That’s my name for ya and only when we’re away from the others. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Charles once again lapsed into a brief silence.

“He demanded I get him something to eat, and called me Redskin.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“(Y/N), relax. I dealt with him.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to deal with it Charles! Nor should Lenny or Javier! Who gives a crap where you’re from or how dark your skin is. The two of you give more to the gang with one hand between you than Micah does with his entire body.” You grumbled, angrily ripping into your piece of meat.

“Not everyone shares your sentiment (Y/N). But knowing you care so much puts me at ease.” You nodded at his words but said nothing more, choosing instead to chew on your food. The conversation from there dwindled into silence, only being broken when you told Charles you’d take first watch.

---

“Hey Micah!”

“Whatchu want-” The rest of Micah’s responce was cut off as you slammed your fist into the bastards jaw. It wasn’t the cleanest punch but your residual anger made up for that with the extra oomph you put into it. Not giving him a chance to recover you seized him by his coat and threw him to the ground.

“Think you’re so tough don’tcha? Can’t fight someone fair in square so you gotta piss on them to make yourself feel better.” Micah had scrambled to his feet by now and charged at you. Again you grappled with him, getting in another punch to his ugly mug before forcing him to the ground.

“The hell you so pissed about huh?” He spat up at you, his teeth tinged pink.

“I’m talking about that bullshit you said to Charles the other day.” The damn bastard had the gall to laugh.

“Is that all? Is that what this is about?” He continued to laugh. Fury coursed through your veins as you sat on his chest and pulled his disgusting face closer.

“Let me tell you right now Micah Bell. If you ever say something like that to him again, or anything of the same nature to Javier or Lenny or Miss Tilly, I will get you like a fish and dye your skin red with your own blood. You understand me?”

That caused the smile on his lips to die down as he was forced to look you dead in the eyes. Another punch from you broke the staring match.

“I said, you understand me you sorry sack of shit?”

“They ain’t worth it.” Was all he said in response. Roughly pushing him down, you finally extracted yourself from his person, getting in one last kick to his ribs, eliciting a pained groan from the blond man.

“You breathe a word of this talk to Dutch and I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to the bluegill down at the river.” You spat on him one last time before mounting your horse and returning to camp.

---

Charles joined you later that night by main camp fire, eyeing the bottle of whiskey in your hand. The fire bathing you in its warm glow. Sitting beside you, he held out a bowl of stew for you.

“Thank you.” He said as you took the stew and tasted it.

“For what?”

“Ignorance is not a good look on you.” You snorted quietly and resumed eating.

“Yeah well, you know how it is.” You replied with a shrug. “I care for you Chuck. No way in hell was I gonna let him get away with talking to you like that.”

Charles smiled and gently clapped a hand on your shoulder. Silence fell over the two of you as Javier’s guitar sounded from one of the tables.

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x female reader #rdr2 x gn reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gn reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #charles smith x reader #charles smith

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ggyuwwoo · 3 years

Text

nostalgic; winter.

a cold winter's night brought upon memories of deep pasts.

seventeen imagine inspr. [ j.ww | flame ]

- a small imagine/oneshot based of this picture

word count: 1.7k

a/n: okay, so.... this was pretty abrupt, literally I was scrolling through twitter and saw this picture and I’m like whoa. holdup, gotta make sth real quick. and somehow, a hour later, boom! I really don’t know how this happened but I could say I’m kinda proud of it - not that its amazing and wow i feel just impressed, hell nah more like, wow I actually finished sth - and the time it took was a record for me, so yeah, please I hope you enjoy!

Cold air filled the streets of Seoul, people walking about in coats, padding, scarves, basking in the warmth they provided. Different coloured lights displayed across the street lamps, trees, and almost anywhere people go through. Taking account the small droplets of white falling down from the dark sky, its winter again.

Hand clutched to his shoulder bag, scrunching his nose from the cold, Wonwoo simply watched as people pass by during the freezing weather. It was a habit of his - when it started, he couldn’t say - observing. He’d take out his small book, a small white composition notebook with minimal design on the front, and starts jotting down things that he thinks would likely be interesting for his book. You could say, it’s his way of inspirations.

Winter has always been something of a change for Wonwoo. Be it the start of something, or the end of another. It was never in-between.

This time around, he was writing something new, something he’d been working on for a while now. Something he has yet to finish. Something in-complete.

Looking through the series of crowds, he spots a young blonde boy in just a white sweatshirt. The boy had just walked out from a building - Red Tiger Dance Studio, Wonwoo notices - and realizing the frosty season, the blonde put on a blue hoodie with the number 10 etched on the back. He ruffled his hair and placed on the hoodie before running off to the underground station.

Wonwoo smiles, the scene reminded him of such a boy, a boy he knew fondly, knew. Looking back, his smile faded, replaced only by a thin line of his lips and eyes dropping with a sad tone. Only realizing then, he had written down a few things.

Blonde. Tiger. Dance. 10.

Wonwoo’s eyes was shaking slightly, taken aback to what he wrote. He took his pen, planning on scratching the entirety of what was written. He stopped. Wonwoo let out a long sigh before placing down the pen. His hands were shivering, coldness numbing his fingertips. Taking out a hot-pack from his bag, Wonwoo pushed back his glasses and continued his observation.

It was almost 9 o’clock, Wonwoo realized he hadn’t eaten yet. The raven haired boy got up from his seat to find a nearby diner, hopefully somewhere with accessible view to the streets. After walking for about 30 minutes, he finds one, Universe Diner.

Walking in, Wonwoo finds a spot right near a corner, with just the right window for him to observe. He goes to the counter, placing an order of hot coffee and a small meal. Going to his seat, he saw a boy in a grey hoodie on the other side of the diner. The boy was focused on his laptop, earphones hanging from the sides. The boy also seemed to be stressed with something, as he was writing down things on a yellow notepad, furiously.

Wonwoo glanced at the boy, guessing he possibly is a stressed out college kid. He did look rather small, maybe high school? Wonwoo continued his guesses. Remembering his earlier activity, Wonwoo turned his attention to the glass pane that showed the streets. He saw a few couples walking by, hand-in-hand, a group of friends - one being particularly tall, had his arms over the other two’s shoulders - laughing, a boy wearing a suit was waiting by the bus stop, head down staring at his phone, whilst another boy in a rainbow-coloured tie-dye sweater was on his headphones sat next to the boy in the suit. Was he wearing sunglasses??

He took down another series of notes from the people he saw. Reviewing them once again after finishing.

Love. Friendship. Work. Leisure. Sunglasses?

Wonwoo took in his notes -ignoring the last one- noting how one correlates with the other. He looked up from his book, coming face to face with the boy on the other side of the room. The boy’s head was still focused on whatever he was doing. Sighs, groans, hums, and mutters were audible from time to time. Wonwoo pitied the boy, he wants to help but he was only a stranger. And who knows, maybe he doesn’t like help? There could be a reason why he is sitting there alone.

Wonwoo took a sip of his coffee once more, before opening up his phone. He didn’t realize it was nearing 11. He has been sitting there since 9. Woah, time does fly.

The sudden sound of a chair backing up was heard, Wonwoo faced up and saw the boy in the grey hoodie, flashing out a smile at his papers and laptop.

“Finally!” the boy exclaimed. “I’m calling it Downpour.”

The boy hurriedly went to his laptop before closing it and packed the remaining of his items into his bag. He placed his earphones back to his ears, smiling contently while walking out of the diner. Wonwoo couldn’t help but grin at the sight. I guess he didn’t need help, just time.

Upon the thought, Wonwoo’s head flashed with memories of a shorter boy, the boy in his thoughts wearing a content smile as music played in the background. The room had only four occupants - including Wonwoo - all four of them were laughing and smiling.

Wonwoo placed a hand on his head, feeling a small headache from the sides. He frowned, knowing these are things of the past. He looked back at his notes, finding a few more words below the previous ones.

Music. Happiness. Satisfaction.

Again, Wonwoo was taken aback for the second time. He knew the things he wrote tonight were from observation, but deep down he felt it was also something more. Something of his past, almost haunting him. Wonwoo’s eyes were getting watery, he didn’t know why. Wiping them off, he took his things. Walking out of the diner, embraced by the chilly winds of winter.

Wonwoo walked back to his place, wanting to linger in the cold season a little longer. He used a longer route that circles his neighbourhood before reaching his house. Only a few people were still out on the streets, some looked like they just got off working overtime, some were drunk being carried by their friends, and some were just like Wonwoo, enjoying the breeze of the night.

The neigbourhood convenience store was coming to view, signaling Wonwoo that he were to turn right later. He notices a tall lanky boy just walking out from the store, holding a black plastic bag over his shoulder. The boy turned to the direction Wonwoo was in. The moment the two faced each other, both pair of eyes were stunned.

Wonwoo took in the boy’s face and figure, trying to see if it is indeed who he thinks it is. He had a white bandage patch on his cheek, chestnut hair peeking through his hoodie, his size hadn’t change much except for possibly height. Guess he’s taller than me now. Wonwoo chuckled internally.

“..Jun?”

The hooded boy let out a short squeak, getting the confirmation of what he had been wondering. Jun walked over to Wonwoo, smiling like a child who found his long lost pet. “Wonwoo! It’s been so long!”

“Jun, why are - no, wait - you’re here?! But I thought..”

Jun gave out a nervous but tired chuckled, the older boy knew he probably has a lot of explaining to do. But he didn’t mind. “Yeah, hehe, it’s a pretty darn long story. Have the time for it?” Jun proposed.

Wonwoo was still in quite the shocked. Seeing his best friend of seven years, who disappeared suddenly, and after five years, meeting him in a coincidence. Well, it’s the third time a memory of the past came to Wonwoo tonight. The third time he was taken aback.

Third time’s the charm, said the universe.

Wonwoo shrugged the small voice on the back of his head, “Yes, please do.”

The two sat down on the table in front of the convenience store. Jun taking out two cans of sweet drinks - Wonwoo hoped it was beer, it might’ve made the whole thing better - from his plastic bag, handing one to Wonwoo.

“So, where should I start?”

After an hour of lengthy explanation by Jun, another half an hour of Wonwoo’s extended questioning, and the other half catching up, the conversation was finally over.

“You know, we would’ve understood.” Wonwoo said, gulping the remaining liquid from his can. Jun stared at his own, a small smile but defeated eyes on his face. “I know, but I didn’t have the guts then.”

Wonwoo let out a sigh, white puff of smoke visible from his mouth, placing the can down. “Well, I’m glad you managed it. As long as you are fine now, it’s good then.”

Jun brought out a relieved smile at the younger’s comment. Taking his can, throwing it to the bin besides the stairs. “Yeah, me too. It all happened already and thankfully, is over. I’m just really glad I get to meet you and give out an explanation.”

Wonwoo nodded.

“Fixing up broken pasts, and repairing them for a better future. It’s nice.”

Wonwoo’s head perked up at the words, Jun may be a chaotic messy cat, but he indeed is insightful. Wonwoo had forgotten about that for a moment.

“Maybe you should try it Woo, who knows? Maybe it’ll give you a clearer picture about what you are writing.”

Wonwoo was about to respond when Jun cuts him off, “Oh damn, look at the time, it’s almost two! Uh, I gotta go Woo, I forgot my little brother needed a small night lamp.” Jun waved at the stunned Wonwoo, as he scurried off yelling, “See you! Soon!”

Wonwoo stood there for a minute.

Fixing broken pasts, huh?

With the night coming to an end, Wonwoo realized something as he walked down the path to his house. The words Jun said had lit up something in his heart, a spark, slowly turning into a flame. It was warm despite the harsh coldness.

After reaching his room, preparing for what looked to be a long sleep, he took out his phone. Scrolled through a few messages, until he reached the one he was looking for.

Wonwoo opened the chat room, contemplating a while before sending the message he’d written. Pressing send, his heart thumped.

‘Hey. Long time.’

He stared at the screen a while, eyes lighting up at as a small indication changed beside his text bubble.

Read by 3.

Followed by another,

junhui is typing...

And another,

jihoon is typing...

And another.

soonyoung is typing...

Wonwoo beamed, maybe he’ll be able to finish that book after all. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll title it,

Us, Who Lights a Flame.

fin.

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breakfastteatime · 4 years

Text

Mini Mac Fic Part 2!

Ta da! A continuation of this Jack’s got a sick Mac on his hands, and he’s gonna get him home and safely tucked up.

It was a quiet drive from Phoenix back to Mac’s place. Jack really had to bite his tongue to keep from asking Mac why he didn't just take a sick day. For a guy who was so smart, he could be incredibly stupid about his personal wellbeing.

Besides, Mac was asleep in the passenger seat, making it hard for him to answer anything. And Jack didn't want to disturb him until they got to his place. For him to be sleeping so much and so heavily during the day meant he really had to be sick. Mac slept light unless he’d gone beyond all his limits. And here he was, sleeping hard, his breathing a little ragged at the edges. He’d slumped against the door, head pressed to the glass like he wanted to cool off.

“Dammit, kid,” Jack muttered. “Can’t you make this easy just one time?”

Matty was right; Mac would be in trouble when he was well enough. He needed to learn to manage himself better. Or at all, really. Because one day, his cavalier attitude towards himself would really bite him in the ass. Just because they weren't on a mission and were out of rotation for a few weeks unless something major came in, didn't mean he could ignore his health.

“This would all be a lot easier if you were awake to hear me tell it to you straight,” Jack said.

Mac didn’t even stir.

Bozer always said Mac wasn’t one to take sick days ‘unless he’s vomiting, and even then, it’s fifty-fifty.’ Bozer then promised to share the story of how Mac had proceeded to projectile vomit in a high school chemistry class because he ignored a stomach-ache until it was too late.

There was resilience and then there was Mac. Jack hadn’t bothered asking him why he was so weird about taking time off. He knew why. Mac admitting to weakness, to vulnerability? It didn’t happen.

It was time for Mac to unlearn some of his bad habits.

By the time they got back to Mac's place, he was looking more flushed than before. Jack could hear a distinct crackle in his breathing, too. Probably still a cold, but maybe one nastier than average.

Killing the engine, Jack reached over, gently shaking Mac awake. “Home sweet home, bud. Let’s get you inside.”

"Mmmm," Mac mumbled, hoarse voice thick with congestion. “I’m up.”

His eyes hadn't actually opened.

"Uh-huh," Jack said, smiling fondly. "Wanna try that again?"

Mac's answer was clearly no because he was already asleep again. And snoring.

"I will carry your ass if I have to," Jack said, reaching over to check for fever. Yup, he had one. A nasty one. “Mac!”

Mac grunted.

"Fine. Stay right there."

Jack had a plan. He knew where Mac (okay, Bozer) kept the thermometer… Assuming Mac hadn’t repurposed it for anything. If Mac's temperature was anywhere close to 103F, they were going straight to the nearest ER, no passing go, no collecting $200. Jack wasn't letting Mac's ridiculous stubbornness melt his brain.

Thirty seconds later, Jack placed the digital thermometer in Mac's ear. He flinched, hand reaching up to slap at Jack's hand. "Stop," Mac said, voice coarse. "It's a cold or sinusitis or something. I’ll sleep it off.” He cleared his throat, unsuccessfully. When he spoke again, he still sounded like he’d gargled with sand. “You don't need to worry so much."

"No, you need to take this more seriously." Jack said. "You don't need it getting any worse."

"S'nothing," Mac mumbled, blinking hard, trying to wake himself up.

The thermometer beeped its reading before Jack could argue back. 102.5F. Not quite 103F. Mac got a stay of professional medical attention.

Jack tucked the thermometer into a pocket. "Bed. Water. Tylenol. In that order."

“Fine.” Mac pulled himself out of the car. He slumped against the car, sweat coating his face as he panted for breath and went several shades too pale.

Jack grabbed him before his legs gave out again, guiding him down to the ground. "Dizzy?"

"Yeah," Mac said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not good.”

“You gonna barf?” Jack asked, wondering how he could put safe distance between himself and whatever might come out of Mac.

Mac let out a shaky breath. “Dunno.” He peeked through his bangs. "Sorry, Jack."

Jack managed a smile. "Yeah, kid, I know you are. But we have talked about this. You gotta look after yourself. A sick day now and then ain't the end of the world."

Mac mumbled something in response, but it was too soft and garbled for Jack to make sense of. He also hadn’t regained any color aside from the patches of bright red on his cheeks.

“Deep breaths,” Jack said. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get to a doctor. “You need me to carry you?”

“No!” Mac cried out. “Just gimmie a minute.”

“World spinning?” Jack asked.

“S’just a cold,” Mac said. “I’m not aching or anything.”

“Whatever it is, we need you inside, so let’s do this slowly. I’m gonna get you to your feet and we’re gonna walk inside.”

Mac held out a hand. Jack pulled him upright, holding both elbows until Mac was steady. Mac pulled away, his glassy eyes squinting against the sunlight. So, Jack could add a headache to Mac’s symptoms. He hovered close to Mac's side as they went inside. Mac made a beeline for the couch.

"Not bed?" Jack asked.

"Not that sick," Mac said. He sat down. Then he slumped onto his side, awkwardly kicking off his shoes. He groaned in relief. "Thanks for bringing me home. I'll get some rest now.” He shivered, closing his eyes. “Tell Matty I'm sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Jack threw out his hands and turned in a circle. “Give me strength,” Jack hissed through his teeth. He couldn’t shout. Mac was sick. Calm. Jack needed to be calm. Very calm. Did Mac seriously think he was going to be left alone? Jack took a deep breath. He held it in for three then slowly released it. Feeling slightly less explosive (because when would Mac learn he wasn’t alone?), Jack headed to the kitchen, grabbed an icepack from the freezer, wrapping in a dishtowel. Next, he poured out a tall glass of water. Then he rummaged through Mac and Bozer's medicine collection, pulling out the Tylenol. Taking everything over to Mac, Jack nudged him awake and made sure he took a dose. Mac did what he was poked to, flopped back, accepted the icepack for his head, and fell asleep in seconds.

Jack fetched a thin green blanket and placed it over Mac. He glanced at his phone. Matty wanted to know when they were settled. Jack typed fast. One genius dosed and tucked up. He sent a photo too.

Cute, Matty texted back. Keep an eye on him.

“You know I got him.” Jack made a quick run to his car to grab his bag and his headphones. Going back into the house, Jack tuned into some classic hair metal, and settled himself into the recliner opposite Mac. He was still Mac’s Overwatch. Way too many dangerous people knew where Mac lived.

Another conversation Jack needed to have with him. But maybe not right now…

…Not when Matty had jammed a ton of paperwork into his bag. So you don't spend too much time worrying, she'd told him as he'd shepherded Mac to the car.

She knew Jack too well.

The hours ticked by. Jack worked hard, going over a number of training protocols for Phoenix’s tac teams. He looked up every so often, making sure Mac slept peacefully. Sure, his right pant leg rode up to his knee, one of his socks was half off, the blanket only covered one half of him, the icepack had melted, and he had his belly hanging out, but Mac was fast asleep and didn’t appear to be having any nightmares.

Mac awoke late in the afternoon. He blinked hard, staring at the blanket. “Shit!” He tossed the blanket away, breathing hard.

Jack looked up from the latest proposal. He saw Mac staring into the distance, not really seeing what was in front of him. "The blanket do something to offend you?"

"Weird dream," Mac said. He somehow sounded raspier than before. Maybe they needed to add laryngitis to his diagnoses. He sounded more congested too, a distinct crackle in his chest. Mac pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Hate sleeping during the day."

Jack eyed him critically. "How weird?"

"Couldn't touch anything green," Mac said. "Green was deadly. Except everywhere I went had green carpet so it was the weirdest game of The Floor is Lava."

Jack took a second to process. "Why green?"

"Arsenic," Mac said, pushing sweaty hair out his face. "They used to have a green dye that contained arsenic." He coughed, reaching for the glass of water Jack had topped up halfway through Mac’s nap. "And I had to keep stopping everyone putting on green t-shirts."

"Only you could have a sciencey nightmare," Jack said. He scooped up the green blanket. “Pretty sure this is free of arsenic.”

Finishing the water with a grimace, Mac slumped against the couch. "Guess it was on my mind."

"Arsenic? Do I need to worry? Are you looking to kill someone in a really historically accurate way?"

Mac smiled. "It's not just a murder weapon. There's probably some in your car battery. There could even be cyanide in the car’s upholstery or – "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, how 'bout you stop talking about deadly poisons, you’re making me itchy. Actually, just stop talking. You ain't gonna have much of a voice left soon."

"And that'd be a real bummer," Mac croaked. He winced. “Ow.”

“Feeling rough?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Mac said. He groaned. “Fine. I’m sick, okay? I admit it.”

“See, this is why you don’t come to the office when you’re sick,” Jack said. “That way, you get better quicker.”

“I get it,” Mac said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in today.”

“So, no going to work tomorrow?”

Mac sighed. And then coughed. And then winced. “No work tomorrow.”

Jack punched the air. “I won!”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “On the other hand…”

“Oh no, don’t you dare,” Jack said, jabbing a finger at him. “You’re staying there. I will sit on you if necessary. Matty will probably order me if I tell her you’re thinking of going into the office tomorrow.”

“I’m joking,” Mac said. He moved himself upright, planting his hands against the cushions. “Okay.” He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing and rubbing his forehead. “Wow, this headache sucks.”

Jack got up too. “Hey now, stay right there. I can get you anything you need.”

Mac blinked at him. “Including a trip to the bathroom?”

“No, nope, you take care of that,” Jack said, hands held up. “I’ll get you something to drink. Something to eat, too. And some more meds.” He backed away, heading into the kitchen. ��Think you’ve got any soup tucked away somewhere? Man, who am I kidding. Of course you do. Bozer is always two steps ahead with comfort food.”

“Hey, Jack?” Mac called after him.

Jack opened the fridge, looking for juice. “Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Mac said. “For… y’know… everything.”

Jack smiled to himself. “Anytime, Mac.”

(You can find my longer fics over here on AO3)

#mini mac fic #mini fic #macgyver 2016 #macgyver fanfiction #sleepy mac is adorable #papa bear jack forever #found family #sick fic #mac whump #love this show!#love a sleepy Mac

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirty-seven: december thirty-first

Over Thanksgiving and over Christmas, Sam spent the days in her apartment alone: Ruben and Esmé had put a great deal of money into repainting the house and thus she couldn't fly out to visit them, and they couldn't do the same for her, either. She vowed to fly out for a visit at least before the school year was over, but at that point, she wished for some solitude. Time away from everything before she faced the world again; at least some time alone before her twenty second birthday. In the meantime, another year about to end and Sam couldn't help but feel that Cliff was being left behind in late September. All things had gone away and yet she still wished for his presence next to her, and yet she still wished for time alone, especially after such a loaded schedule for that fall term.

Christmas Eve alone, but Aurora and Belinda both had offered to bring her over for at least the next day.

“I at least wanna get you something,” Belinda had told her over the phone.

“Of course,” Sam assured her, “I just wanna spend some time alone.”

“You gonna be alright?” Sam thought back to when Belinda made that joke to her, and even though it was water under the bridge at that point, she knew she wanted to make it up to her.

“Yeah. Positive.”

Aurora had gone back out to San Diego to visit her parents for a whole week, and thus Emile was alone for Christmas himself, as far as Sam knew anyways. She wondered what was happening in between them, especially given Aurora never really spoke about it that much to her. But there was more to Belinda that she needed to know about: she only knew her through their classes. Maybe there was something more to her than she had originally believed: maybe there was more to her than meets the eye.

“Bel, I'm going out to Ithaca for New Year's,” she told her.

“Oh?”

“Y-You wanna come?” Sam offered with bit of a stammer.

“Um, sure? I gotta go upstate around then anyway. What's in Ithaca?”

“I was invited to sit in for a recording session for—that band Legacy. You know those guys, Legacy?”

“Vaguely, yes? I remember Marla talking about them a few times before but I can't remember if I actually met them, though.”

“But yeah, I was invited to sit in with them while they record for their very first album.”

“Oh, cool!”

“I don't—really want to go alone, though. I want to spend the holidays alone but I don't want to go to this alone, though. Aurora's out in San Diego right now—”

“And Marla and Charlie are down here in Hell's Kitchen with her parents,” Belinda added.

“—I'm the assistant to Aurora if anyone asks.”

“What about me?”

“I'll think of something for you,” she vowed. “If anyone asks, I'll say that you're a friend of mine and you'll keep it confidential. I mean, I already have told you about it somewhat. I might as well take you with and ask you to keep it under wraps.”

“I won't tell a soul,” Belinda promised. There was a voice in the background, and she hesitated. “I gotta go, Sam. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bel,” she echoed her, “I'll be going out there on New Year's Eve.”

“I'll see you then!” Belinda vowed. “You live in the Bronx, right?”

“Right up on the northern side of the Bronx—two floors upstairs from Frankie.”

“Oh, I know exactly where that is! I'll see you then. Merry Christmas, Sam.”

“Merry Christmas, Bel.”

They hung up at the same time and Sam ran her fingers through her dark hair. It was her first Christmas alone, and before then it was her first Thanksgiving alone, and yet she wanted it all to herself.

She had posted up a cactus on her coffee table and put a little glittered silver star in the soil, right where it pointed out to the rest of the room. Indeed, when she headed back to her bedroom, and turned off the overhead light, the silver sparkled in the low light. It followed her all the way into her bedroom, and when she lay down in her bed to go to sleep, the glittered light shone through the darkness outside of her room.

Sam closed her eyes and she thought about that mysterious man again with the streak in his hair, and he was the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep. No sooner had she fallen asleep when she woke up that Christmas morning. Christmas morning without anyone around her, but she had wished for it. Some time alone with her journal and her art before she went out to Ithaca with Belinda and Legacy.

Joey still had that canvas in the back seat of his car, or maybe he took it out and stashed it away somewhere in that apartment. She thought about Dan and his record player: she still had yet to play her copy of Spreading the Disease. She had to at the very least listen to it before they began work on their new album, whenever that would come about. As far as she knew, they were to make a new one once they returned home from the tour. But the question that rang through her mind until New Year's Eve itself was that of when.

When were Anthrax to head on into the studio for a new record on their part.

On that cold, snowy day, Belinda showed up to the curb in her little black car: she herself was wrapped up in a heavy black overcoat, and a fitted bright green sweatshirt. Her snake pendant twinkled under the bright white glare of the snow. Sam climbed into the passenger seat next to her, also in her black overcoat, and with those hockey gloves Joey had given her.

“So do you know the way?” Belinda asked her as they got rolling forth on the street.

“I sure do—I went there before last month with Eric and Greg. It's like—tucked away in the trees on one side of town.”

Belinda nodded and then she leaned back in the leopard print driver's seat with both hands on the wheel. Sam nestled down in the warmth of the seat next to her and tucked her hands into her pockets.

It was at that point Belinda started to feel more of a friend to her, as they wound their way through the trees and into the cold and barren upstate region. A blanket of fresh fallen snow covered everything, but she didn't seem too stressed about driving through that strip of bare dark road in that little car. The snow followed them all the way up to the Finger Lakes region, the dark waters of which appeared colder and blacker with the fresh new snow.

Within time, they reached Ithaca and Sam guided Belinda to that studio nestled back in the woods on the other side of town. Legacy's van was already posted up there outside the front ramp and the doorway, and Sam knew they had already made their way inside of there.

Eric bowed out of that door and he hesitated when he saw the car. Sam opened the front door and poked her head out to the frigid cold: he nodded at the sight of her.

“Oh, hey!” he called out to her, and he turned back to the doorway. “Sam's here—”

Belinda climbed out of the car next.

“—and she's brought a friend with her,” he added; their boots crunched over the snow there in the driveway. Belinda gave her blonde hair a slight toss back and Eric raised his eyebrows at her.

“Eric, this is Belinda Grimes,” Sam introduced her, “good friend of Marla and is gradually a good friend of mine.”

“The beautiful Belinda,” Eric declared.

“Or Bel as I go by,” Belinda herself added.

“I didn't want to come here by myself,” Sam explained as she shivered a bit under her coat, “'cause Aurora's back out in California to visit her parents, so I asked her to come along with me. She'll keep it all under wraps, though.”

“My lips are sealed.” Belinda made a twisting gesture over her lips.

“Well, good! Uh, well, c'mon in—it's freezing out here and we're letting all the warm air out.”

Sam and Belinda followed Eric inside of that front room, a narrow sparsely carpeted bright lit space that resembled to a closet than it did a foyer of sorts. To the left stood the actual studio itself: the door to the sound proof room on the other side of the pane of glass. Louie and his smoothed dark hair inside of that room; Greg had already slung his bass over his shoulder, and Eric himself was right in front of them. Nestled back in that hallway off to the left, Sam recognized his aquiline nose and his deep set eyes, but the little pearl of gray had gone away. He had buried it under the jet black curls about the crown of his head, right under those little bangs. Or so she believed: he nudged his bangs back a little bit and there was no sign of it. The grays were gone.

“What happened to the streak?” she asked him and those deep eyes seemed to slice right through her.

“Dyed it,” Alex replied, nonplussed. “I couldn't stand looking at it for any longer.”

“I kinda liked it,” she told him, to which he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, I did, too,” Belinda added, even though she hadn't really met him before.

“It made me look old, though,” he said to them with his eyebrows knitted together. Even with the streak buried under the black dye, he still looked older than he actually was, even being eighteen years old, and with a round full face and smooth skin. He continued to frown at Sam.

“Hang on, Aurora's not here with you?” he asked her in a low voice.

“She's out in California visiting her parents. She should be back—I'm not sure when she'll be back, though. Belinda here'll keep everything that happens in here a secret, though.”

“Okay, okay—besides this is our first real big thing.” Alex fixated on Sam: there was something about those deep eyes, though. Something about them that drew her in: even with that streak hidden away under the black, she found herself wanting to move in closer to him. “If any mistakes happen, you've gotta tell her.”

“That's my job,” she assured him, and he kept his gaze on her for another couple of seconds before he turned away and headed into the sound proof room. Belinda turned to her with a frightened expression on her face.

“What's wrong?” Sam asked her.

“He's so precocious it's scary,” she whispered to Sam.

“That's what I said to Lars,” she confessed to her, also in a whisper. “Lars told me he's just really intelligent is all. Being smart ages you. He's really focused, too—it's kind of chilling, I'll admit it.”

She turned her attention to Eric right behind her, huddled right over a small black table with a big white sheet of paper taped on top. She stood right next to him for a look herself: it was a full schedule of the residencies there in that studio. On New Year's Day, they were to officially begin recording under the chosen name Legacy. Her eyes wandered down the page when she spotted a familiar name in the middle of January.

“Anthrax are gonna be here, too?” She was stunned.

“Yeah.” Eric hesitated and he showed her a baffled look. “Wait a minute. They didn't tell you?”

“No?”

“Well, let's see—it's written in pencil so they must've just allotted the studio time. We're written in pen so it's confirmed that we're here—but them... it looks like their dates were just added.”

“Wow! Another round of sit ins, I suppose?”

“If you'd like. You and Aurora work with the label after all.”

“Hey, Eric,” Louie called from the doorway, and he lifted his head.

“What's up?”

“Did you happen to get a hold of Chuck? Any chance at all?”

Eric shook his head. “He's supposed to be here like any minute, Lou. That's as far as I know.”

“Well, what do you think we should do?”

“Yeah, I don't really wanna be up here for a moot point,” Alex added: even tucked away in the far corner of the room, his voice was enormous, even from behind a sheet of glass and inside of an otherwise sound proof room. It even caught Sam by surprise.

“Well,” Eric started. “We're all here with our instruments, and with Sam and her friend here. Why don't we just jam together?”

“Don't see why not,” Louie replied with a shrug of his shoulders, and Eric padded over to him. He left the door ajar for Sam and Belinda to listen in for themselves. Tucked back in the far side of the room was the drum kit: Alex had taken his seat on a stool on the far side of the room with a little cherry red guitar cradled upon his lap. His jet black hair had more of a shine to it, too, and Sam could only assume he had ran the hair dye all throughout his hair.

“Watch this,” said Eric as he picked up a black flying V guitar which had already been plugged into the amp on the floor next to him. He took out the pick from the strings and he plucked those strings. Sam thought back to when Anthrax performed for her on that first day, but the riff he played made her think if they had played at a much quicker pace than they did in that room. His black hair spread across his face as he played that hard, rapid fire riff: so fast that it sent a chill up Sam's arms.

“Holy shit,” Belinda muttered. He slowed it down by half and not once did he look up at the two girls on the other side of the glass. That sound proof room filled with such a big wall of sound. A big wall of sound made by one man: Sam wanted to pick up a pair of headphones and let them record it right there, but she decided not to, especially when Eric jerked his hand back from the frets as if he had been burned.

“—like guarding a bridge,” Greg was saying.

“Pulled it!” Eric yelped.

“Pulled it out of your pussy,” Louie joked as he picked up his drum sticks.

“Pulled it out of my pussy, right,” Eric retorted with a straight face.

“Your pussy or your ass?”

“Both.”

“Your pussy or your dick?”

“Both. I have both, so—”

Alex then looked over at Sam from clear across the room: his deep set eyes gazed back at her as if he watched her every move. Deep and steely like brand new metal under a sheet of ice. They locked eyes for a moment, but it was long enough for her to think about that piece of rice paper in the bottom of the drawer. All the mentions in front of him sent his back closer towards the wall.

Indeed, he moved his gaze to the wall right behind him: his long lanky fingers moved about the upper part of the guitar neck. His guitar wasn't plugged in but Sam could tell he was playing something hard and fast. The drums tapped on the other side of the room, and Sam turned her attention to the kit there. Louie moved the sticks about for a drum roll, and he moved a little bit on the kick drums, but the cold in the room kept him from moving a lot. He stopped, and he reached down for a massage of his ankles with one hand.

“Got a problem, Lewis?” Greg asked him.

“Ankles are kinda sore.” He lifted his hand and sat upright. He turned his attention to Sam and Belinda for a few seconds, but then he scooped up his sticks again and he tried again with the snare right in front of him. He tried it again, and he stopped again for another ankle massage.

Sam lowered her gaze to his lap and those filmy black gym shorts. He lifted up again.

“Sorry—I've got an erection right now so I can't really do much more than that,” Louie said in a single breath and with a straight face.

“Damn, Lou's hungry right now,” Greg remarked.

“A couple of girls in the next room here,” Eric pointed out with a nod of his head.

“Nah—no, wait.”

Belinda burst out laughing; Sam chuckled a little bit herself but she wondered what Alex was doing right there at the far side of the room. He kept his head down, so his freshly cut bangs accentuated that sharp brow and those deep eyes. He moved his fingers about the neck and he was so tight with it. He moved about in silence, like a ghost, a slender little black haired ghost of a boy. Being smart aged him and yet, even as he was right there on the other side of the room, he still resembled to a young boy. Barely eighteen and he struck her as completely ageless.

She folded her arms over the edge of the panel in front of her. Something about the sheen on his black hair made her think of those ink drawings. Even though his guitar wasn't plugged in, she could hear the music he cranked out for them. A gentle faint plucking against the chatter right next to her. If only she could hear what he was playing for himself, and such that he

“You girls have yet to meet the other bands in this whole grand scheme of things, though,” Eric was telling Belinda. “Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax, and Slayer—everyone is calling them the 'Big Four' because they're kind of the first ones to go to big labels. And then you have us, plus Overkill—Danny Spitz's old band—Exodus, Zetro's new band, and Death Angel—Sam met Death Angel at Cliff's memorial.”

“Not exactly,” Sam confessed, “I saw them but they wanted more lunch than anything.”

That brought a laugh out of both Louie and Greg. “The Big Four.” The name itself made Sam chuckle, but she paid more attention to Alex on the other side of the room. He seemed to be in a world of his own compared to them.

“So all you guys behind them are kind of like the little four,” Belinda told them.

“The little four?” Eric laughed at that.

“Yeah. Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax, and Slayer are the big four—you guys, Overkill, Exodus, and Death Angel are the little four. The tier behind them. They're the big head honchos, and you guys are like the little ones holding them up like pillars or something.”

“The tiny four,” Louie quipped.

“The small fries,” Eric added.

“The little itty bitty four,” Belinda laughed.

“The four small dicks,” Greg quipped. “And the big four are the big four dicks.”

“That's a whole lot of dicks,” Eric added. “The big four dicks are the hot ones.”

“Who says the little dicks can't be hot, though?” Sam blurted out, and they all laughed out loud at that: Alex snapped his eyes shut and bowed his head. She had no idea if he was laughing at that but then he shook his hand about. He returned to the frets as if nothing happened.

“How's our lead doing?” Eric asked Alex, who finally raised his head a bit: the bangs still hid his eyes away from view.

“I'm just making it up as I go along,” he said, “I watched a Miles Davis concert on TV a couple of months ago and ever since then, I wanted to do what he was doing there.”

“Electric era or—?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, of course.” Alex gave the ringlets on the side of his head a slight nudge so it revealed his ear and the side of his neck. Something quite graceful about him. But then Belinda turned to Sam again.

“Yeah, he's really precocious.” But Sam frowned at that. So what if he was? The boy knew what he wanted out of laugh and that was to play his guitar and add something to the world. Indeed, Sam thought about her own artistry. To make something herself.

It may have been his jet black hair but she thought of herself as she watched him there. She thought of the first time she saw him up on stage, and how he seemed to paint with his fingers, and the guitar was his canvas. This boy was an artist and his playing there on the other side of the room only doubly confirmed that for her.

Meanwhile, Louie played a few drum grooves for them and he finally overcame the pains in his ankles all the while. Greg followed his lead and lay down a bassline for him: even without Eric and Alex with their guitars, their rhythms alone were enough to prove to both Sam and Belinda that they had such strong power. Sam thought about Chuck's powerful voice, and the night she and Cliff got to see them. It had been a full year since she and Cliff saw them in San Francisco, and she could still imagine Chuck there on stage as if it had just happened.

Within time, Eric joined in with that rapid fire riff and the three of them plowed forth. Alex finally leaned to the side and plugged in his guitar. The two girls on the other side of the glass watched the four young men, four artists in their prime, begin their very first master piece.

Sam recognized the song “Over the Wall” and she attempted to sing Zetro's shrill lyrics even though she only heard the song once before in L'Amour. But Alex's insistence on improvising extended it into this long elaborate jam session. At one point, he stood to his feet and strode about the room. He progressed high and low and every so often, he stepped on one of the pedals there on the floor for a different effect.

“Turning into the Grateful Dead in here,” Louie shouted in between tight drum beats.

They were in there for another half hour, and the three of them followed Alex's lead, until Eric returned to the door with the guitar slung over his back.

“We're gonna be here a while,” he told Sam.

“And Chuck's still not here yet,” she pointed out.

“And Chuck's still not here, right! And it's not like we're recording as of yet, either. I think you girls can go out and stretch your legs for a bit. Get yourselves something to eat. We are in Ithaca, after all. Not like we're going anywhere.”

“True.”

Sam then led Belinda back outside, where the clouds broke enough to show off the pure blue sky, but not enough to warrant sunshine over Finger Lakes. The cold of the snow felt so sharp after being in that warm room for so long; it was right then Sam started to feel hungry.

“There is just shit all to say,” she remarked as she walked to the driveway first. “It all speaks for itself.”

“It really does,” Belinda followed as she rubbed her hands together. “And how exciting, too! We're seeing these bands from the ground up.”

“Well, these guys are coming from the ground up, though. Anthrax has already put out a few albums, and Stormtroopers is kind of a spin off to them—but these guys are brand new, though. We're watching them start out fresh and new. We're watching Alex start out fresh and new.”

“Kind of makes you wish we could see Anthrax from the very beginning.” They stopped outside of her car.

“Well, that's really simple,” Sam explained. “Neither of us were here—well, I wasn't. You grew up down in Hell's Kitchen with Marla, and you guys hadn't met Charlie yet. The two of you grew up thirty minutes away from him and Frankie. So seeing them advanced along a bit, we started ahead in the watch process. So seeing these guys from the very beginning, we kind of have an idea as to what the future holds for them. Or least I do—I don't know about you, Bel.”

“Yeah, I've never really sat in with a band before. Charlie and I did hang out with that guy John—John Tempesta—when Charlie first met Marla, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We were in this place in Brooklyn called the Iridium together and he bought us both a drink. Kind of an interesting night, though. We thought there were creatures coming out of the walls at one point.”

“Oh, my god.” Sam chuckled at that. She peered about the driveway for any signs of life. “I think we can just walk into town. We're literally right here.”

“But we're gonna have to walk through snow, though,” Belinda pointed out.

“Nah, we won't—besides, Bel, you're from New York. You're used to the cold.”

“Yeah, down in the city. Upstate is a whole other world.”

“Well, let's at least take a walk, though. It was getting kind of stuffy in there.”

Belinda let out a long low whistle and then she nodded her head, and she followed Sam to the end of the driveway. They stood there at the edge of the pavement, and there was a small cafe, to the right of them and up the street.

“Hey, there's Joey,” Belinda pointed out, and Sam's heart skipped a few beats. Sure enough, there Joey was on the other side of the pavement: his black curls streamed down his back and over a light red and white striped knit scarf wrapped around his neck, and he wore a fitted black peacoat so he appeared thinner and lankier than before. He waved and showed them a lopsided smile, and then he peered both ways before he crossed the street. Sam turned to Belinda yet again.

“Okay,” she began in a low voice, “if he asks us where we've been or why we're up here right now, tell him we just came here for New Year's.”

“Why?” Belinda frowned at that.

“He—” Sam peered behind her to ensure that Joey was still out of earshot. “He and Alex got into a fight a while back, and he's kind of vindicative about Legacy themselves.”

“Really?” Belinda raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. It was insane, Bel. He and Alex got outside and he pushed him.”

“He pushed him?” Sam set a hand on her to get to keep her voice down. “But what if he asks why we're here by the studio, though? Especially with Anthrax coming here and whatnot.”

“Shit, I forgot about that! Um, let's just tell him that we're here to check the place out. And I'll tell you more about the pushing incident later on, too—” She stopped right in her tracks just as Joey strolled up to them with his hands on the lapels.

“Hey, you!” he greeted Sam.

“Hey, Joey,” she returned the favor.

“And Belinda,” he continued, “you're Belinda, right?”

“Little Bel, that's me,” she retorted. He craned his neck to the building behind them.

“What's all this?”

“Oh, it's the—studio that you and Anthrax are recording at,” Sam replied, and each word that left her lips felt as though she was having to force herself to say it.

“Oh, yeah, I remember this place,” said Joey. “Pyramid.” He stopped and he took another look. “Who else is here?”

“Maintenance,” Belinda filled in with haste and a clearing of her throat.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam added with even more haste, “—we just came over here to check it out. We really only came up here to Ithaca for New Year's.” She rubbed her nose. “What's up with you? What're you doing?”

“I just came here to see the place myself,” he answered as he lunged forward, but Sam and Belinda stepped in front of him.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Joey,” Sam assured him.

“Yeah—the place is kind of a mess,” Belinda joined in.

“Well, I at least wanna see the front door, though. Lived and did stuff in upstate my whole life and would you believe I've never been here before? And besides, why is your car here?”

“It's a good place to park,” Belinda said at a rapid clip. “We're coming right back for it, though. It's nothing to split hairs over.”

“Okay,” Joey said, reluctant and with a befuddled look on his face.

“Um, you wanna get something to eat?” Sam offered him.

“I just ate, thank you, though.”

“Shit—well, it's pretty cold out here—don't ya wanna go into that restaurant there?”

“We can't go in there?”

“It's a mess, Joey!” Sam exclaimed. “An absolute madhouse!”

“Hey, that song was a hit!” he said with a snap of his fingers.

“What song?”

“'Madhouse'! We got asked to make a music video for it—have you seen it?”

“I haven't, no.”

“Don't think I have, either,” Belinda added.

“Oh, man, I gotta show it to you girls. I hope that restaurant does have TVs in it—I'd like to show it to you both.” He wheeled around and stood there at the curb for a second: Sam and Belinda glanced at one another. The latter widened her eyes and let out a quiet sigh; the former opened her mouth but no sound came out. Joey then led them across the dark pavement to the low restaurant there on the other side, hugged by a few evergreen trees and some scraggly barren oak trees.

He held the door for them as they made their way inside. Warm and sweet with that aroma of coffee and fresh food: he led them to the counter where he took the seat closest to the register. Sam sat down at his left while Belinda took the spot to the left of her. Her eyes were still wide with fear.

“That was close,” she mouthed, to which Sam nodded her head. Joey then turned to them once again.

“Did Cliff ever tell you his fascination with pancakes?” he asked Sam in a low voice.

“I don't think he ever did,” she confessed.

“Oh. Well—” Joey pointed to the silvery counter in front of them, and the plate of pancakes slathered in syrup and melted butter which awaited to be taken to a nearby table. “—just looking at that fat stack of pancakes right there in front of us made me think of his obsession with pancakes.” Sam chuckled at that.

She and Belinda both asked for cups of coffee, but neither of them knew what they wanted to eat. It was the first time in a long time Sam had gone some place and she had no idea as to what she wanted. The thought of Cliff obsessing over pancakes made her curious. There was so much to him that she still didn't know about.

Cried all her tears and yet she still missed him. It was almost too much to bear, especially when she thought about Alex in that room. He and Cliff were both artists in their prime. Both artists, both unknowns to her, and yet they both felt so close to her.

“Excuse me,” she finally said at one point: she could feel the firm lump coming to fruition in her throat. She ducked into the hallway around the corner to make it look as though she was headed into the bathrooms. But she lingered there outside of the ladies' room, right next to the door, and the tears made their way forth. She flashed back on the sight of Louie behind that drum kit, and the memory of the five of them in the park so as to honor Cliff: he recognized Zelda almost immediately, even in the tapestry of total darkness, and she could only wonder what was happening between them. He hit those drums rather hard: maybe seeing her there opened something in him. She had no idea.

The mention of Cliff did something to her however. She brought her hands to her face to hide the tears away from prying eyes, but she couldn't cry. No tears to be found in there.

“Sam?” Joey's upstate accent caught her ear and she lifted her head for a look at him there at the far end of the hall. The lopsided grin had given way to a look of concern on his handsome face. He strode closer to her for a better look at her.

“You okay?” he asked her in a gentle voice, to which she bowed her head and kept silent. “Are you alright?”

She still didn't answer.

“That statement was in poor taste, I know,” he said in a near whisper.

“What statement?” she asked him as she raised her gaze to him; he stood right in front of her, and he stood so close to her that she could smell the soft cologne on the side of his neck.

“The whole thing with the pancakes. I just—I know how you miss Cliff so much.”

“I do, I do—but I swear it's not you, though,” she assured him.

“Oh. I just saw you run down here and I could only guess that it was 'cause of that.”

“I just—I have my moments,” she confessed to him. “I have moments where I miss him more than anything in the world.”

She gazed up at him, right into those deep brown eyes. As brown and soft as the earth, the very earth that Cliff had returned to. They locked eyes for a few seconds, but it was enough.

“Joey—” she started.

“What?” He then paused and she pursed her lips together. Her mind went blank, but then he showed her the first bit of that grin yet again.

“Remember when you were in my place and you made that joke about kissin' me?” he recalled in a soft voice.

“How could I forget?”

“Not gonna lie—I think about doin' that.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Absolutely. All the time.”

“So—what're you saying?”

He nibbled on his bottom lip and he dropped his gaze to her mouth.

“I didn't have someone to kiss under the mistletoe back on Christmas,” he told her in the huskiest voice she ever heard.

“I didn't, either,” she added.

“And I don't have someone to kiss when the ball drops tonight.”

“Who says we have to have a New Year's kiss, though?”

“Good point.” He paused again, and again with a nibble of his bottom lip. “Just an idea.” He nodded his head back for her to go back out to the restaurant. “Run along—I gotta use the little boys' room.” And with that, Sam bowed out in front of him and she rounded the corner: Belinda still stayed seated at the counter and with a cup of coffee in front of her. But on the far side of the room, Sam noticed the four of them clustered into a booth. She kept going towards them.

“Hey! What're you guys doing here?”

“Remember when Greg made a flippant comment about Louie being hungry?” Eric said to her as he looked up at her like a prince.

“Vaguely.”

“Well, as it turns out, the bunch of us are, too.”

“Well, Joey's here with me and Bel, so you might wanna keep things down.” She made a lowering gesture with her hands and brought her voice down a bit.

“Not a problem,” he assured her with a shake of his head. “Alex is a lover not a fighter anyways.”

“I fight when I feel like it,” Alex himself pointed out as he took a sip of ice water. Sam hoped Joey wouldn't see them there as she returned to Belinda at the counter: and even with the pancakes gone, she still couldn't shake the firm feeling from her throat. First New Year's alone and without Cliff.

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breadcaaat · 4 years

Text

part six

Jeongguk x hybrid!reader

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: for the sake of maintaining a similar wordcount, there’s a cliffhanger. most of the next chapter is done tho, so itll be out really soon. also, mentions of rape and allusions to revenge porn

Jeongguk fumbled with the keys to his apartment, buzzed and happy. Reconnecting with Hobi had been like a breath of fresh air, and he could still feel his cheeks stinging from how hard they’d laughed that night. I missed him, he noted softly, and shuffled into his apartment.

The door clicked shut and he toed off his shoes, giggling a bit to himself.

Y/N peeked out from her pile of blankets on the bed, eyes puffy. She was wearing one of his shirts. That’s cute, he thought, and giggled a bit more. “What are you laughin’ about?” she murmured, voice fuzzy with sleep. I missed her, too. She’s so cute, look at her ears…

“Are you… drunk?”

“Tipsy,” he drawled, voice a little scratchy with how loud he and Hobi had been in their excitement. He tugged off his coat slowly and uncoordinatedly, one arm at a time. His left hand got stuck in the sleeve so he flapped it around until it fell to the ground with a thump. Another giggle. “That’s not a coat rack,” he whispered.

Y/N whistled, amused. “This Hobi guy must’ve done a number on you.”

“Nah, no… we just hung out a bit, not like that. Just tispy!”

“Tispy?”

“Tip...sy.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, patting the bedding next to her to beckon him over. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about, but it can wait until morning. Come sleep.”

“No no, I wanna hear - wait - I gotta, hold on…” he was halfway out of his shirt, one arm out and head stuck, mumbling to himself as he tried to reason his way out of his clothing.

Y/N watched on in amusement. She made no move to help him, tail curling and uncurling leisurely.

Jeongguk’s head was through his sleeve now, face smushed up against the arm sharing it. “I - ” he gasped, and Y/N giggled, tail lashing a bit more.

He stilled for a second and sighed.

“Do you need - ?”

“No, I got it. No help. Don’t worry I’ll, just… mirror!”

“Mirror?”

He didn’t answer, already tromping over to the bathroom with his arm sticking out like an unruly tree branch.

“Your left sock is slippin’ off,” she murmured.

He made a little beep in question, bending at the torso to try and get a look at it. He looked ridiculous. Like a lanky, misshapen safari animal, lost in the grasslands. Her giggling turned into a full laugh.

He whipped around to look at her, a teasing and confrontational comment ready to fire on the tip of his tongue, but the sudden turbulence messed up his balance and dropped him on his ass with a loud whump! Y/N continued to cackle, teary at the eyes and still useless.

“Where am I?!” he yelled, and it brought on another round of laughter that’d probably land a noise complaint on his doorstep in the morning.

“Let me - ” she giggled, eyes crinkled and watery, “ - let me help, Jeongguk.”

“No, I have it under control.”

“You do not, oh my god.” She rolled off the bed and approached him, still giggling. He pouted at her, face squished and hair mussed. She crouched in front of him.

“Let me help,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but nod mutedly. She looks so soft.

Detangling him was a mess that took a solid five minutes, ten extra when he insisted on changing into his pajamas, but they finally settled.

“Your breath stinks,” she muttered. He didn’t hear her - Jeongguk was the type of drunk to focus on only one thing at a time - and he was kneeled to fluff his pillow. She watched bemusedly as he fussed with it for a solid minute in a half, adjusting the edges and smoothing the pillow case, testing the give with a little prodding, and finally giving it a good once-, twice-, and thrice-over before deeming it properly fluffed. “Good enough?” she asked. He grumbled something. She didn’t bother asking him to repeat himself.

He toppled over, finally, and sighed. Her nose wrinkled and she huffed at him. “What was’at?” he asked, finally.

“I said your breath stinks.”

“Oh. Hm.” He blinked slowly and then sat up suddenly, crawling out from under the sheets. “Hold on - I can - ”

“God - where are you going now?”

“I’m... brush teeth.” He bumped into the doorframe on the way into the bathroom, snapped at it for being in the way, whacked it, and then yelped in pain and cradled his hand to his chest. “ - Ass.”

“Dork,” she muttered, and gave up on trying to put him to bed.

🐯

“Sungmin-ah? Is that you?”

Said girl looked up from her phone, straightening her posture as she recognized two old acquaintances from high school. “Oh, uh…” She wracked her memory for the girl’s name. The brave red dye job was familiar. “Taehee-unnie?”

Taehee smiled, so Sungmin must’ve got her name right. She had another girl with her, smaller in stature with darker, shorter hair. Feeling lucky, she guessed, “...Heeyoung-unnie?”

“Heeyeon,” she corrected, with a small smile to let her know she was close enough.

“Heeyeon-unnie,” she reaffirmed, and Heeyeon ducked her head.

Taehee immediately launched into her order after that, filling the otherwise empty shop with noise that made it suddenly seem too busy. It was a swift reminder to Sunghyun as to why she hadn’t missed the girl when they graduated.

She talked too much.

Taehee finished their order and Sunghyun half-listened as she continued to babble, moaning about something her boyfriend had done over the weekend. Heeyeon seemed content - or, at least, compliant - with taking a back seat to the conversation. Sunghyun felt a little sorry for her. She also kinda wanted them to leave.

“So,” Taehee purred conspiratorially, and Sunghyun hastily scribbled a note on the order to her dad saying hurry up with this one, please. She turned back around with a polite smile on her face.

“ - Have there been any cute guys in Sunghyun-ah’s life lately?”

She remembered suddenly that her dad had stepped out to take a smoke earlier, and groaned on the inside. “Not really, unnie.”

“Ah, c’mon! It’s been - like - two years, girl! There’s gotta have been at least one or two, I know it.”

“Nope. Last time I dated seriously was in high school.”

“Oh, that twerp?” She let out a long sigh, like thinking of him exhausted her. It did bring a little smile to Sunghyun’s face. If there was one likeable quality about Taehee it was that she was always first to get up and scare away unwelcome men. When Sunghyun had broken up with her highschool boyfriend and he’d refused to leave her alone afterward, it’d been Taehee and her girl gang that’d scared him away.

“Yeah, that twerp,” she said.

“Alright, no boyfriends. Any hot guys, at least? Sweethearts with nice faces and good bodies - ?”

“ - Yah! You’re being invasive!” Heeyeon swatted lightly at Taehee, giggling a bit. It helped slice the slightly awkward air, and Sunghyun’s face cracked into a smile. In the back, she heard the door open and close as her dad returned.

“Well, yeah, there have been some cute guys. It’s impossible not to know one or two.”

Taehee cupped her face in her hands and wiggled back and forth slightly, trying to be cute. “Can you tell me about one while we wait for our food?” she cooed.

“Alright, uh - ” she glanced around the room, trying to remember a boy in her life. She honestly didn’t get out much. It’s not like she would tell Taehee that, though. “Our delivery boy is kind of cute?” Her dad snickered somewhere behind her and she blushed.

“Why’s it sound like a question? Is he ugly?” Taehee genuinely looked a bit dismayed.

“No, no!” She waved her hands in front of her, a little flustered. “He’s really cute! I had a crush on him when he was first hired but I, I see him more like a little brother now.”

“Ah, is cute not your type? You like bad boys?” Taehee teased, and Heeyeon elbowed her. Behind her, her dad murmured “She better not,” hiding it with the sound of frying eggs. She cringed, wanting nothing more than to let the ground swallow her whole. He must’ve decided he didn’t want to eavesdrop anymore after that - soft music started to play from the radio.

“Uh, no. I just realized it was probably better not to date at work.”

“Hm, that’s fair. Well, what’s his name? I’m gonna look him up on Facebook anyway.”

“I don’t think he has social media, but his name’s Jeongguk.”

They went stock still, faces incredulous. Sunghyun stared back, puzzled. “What? Something wrong?”

“Only if he’s Jeon Jeongguk.” There was a surprising amount of disdain in Heeyeon’s voice. Conversely, there was a twinkle in Taehee’s eyes, like some juicy scandal was being spilled. It put Sunghyun on the defensive.

“What’s wrong with Jeongguk? He’s never done anything we don’t like besides work too hard.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does,” Heeyeon muttered, and Taehee hid a laugh behind her hand.

Sungyun looked bewildered. The girls exchanged a look, and then leant forward in sync.

Taehee went first, like she couldn’t contain herself. “Okay, so, you’ve seriously not heard of his whole thing? Like, when did he start working here?”

“A few months ago, why? How do you even know him?”

“We went to college with him, and let me tell you he is not someone you want around,” Heeyeon hissed, but there was an urgent, soft turn to her eyes, like she was concerned for the Gim family. “We were friends and I thought the exact same thing about him - that he was the sweetest person in the world. But he’s manipulative to a fault. It’s all an act.”

Sunghyun shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe - ”

“ - He slept with his professors to pass his classes.”

Sunghyun blinked owlishly.

“Coaches, too,” Taehee interjected.

Sunghyun blinked again.

Heeyeon continued. “He broke up with his girlfriend in freshman year to sleep around - I talked to her once and she said he was doing it even before - ”

“ - It sounded like he slept with men, mostly,” Taehee interrupted, and Heeyeon nodded.

“Yeah. It was mostly men in the videos.”

“The videos?” Sungyun asked. She still looked floored. This is total bullshit, she thought. Taehee had been a notorious gossip through high school and if Heeyeon was still involved with her then she probably was too.

Shaking her head and waving them away, she tried her best to express her disbelief as words escaped her. “Never mind, I just - your lunch is almost ready, and I’m sure you have places to be.”

“You don’t believe us! Aish,” Taehee exclaimed. “I have proof, girl! Hold on, let me find - ouch!” Heeyeon elbowed her again, sending her a sharp look. “What? I’ll just show her a clip.” Heeyeon continued to glare at her cautiously, but Taehee pulled out her phone.

In the back, Yeongho slid the finished lunches through the window. Normally he would’ve disappeared back into the kitchen unless there was a regular he wanted to strike up conversation with, but the distressed expression on his daughter’s face made him pause.

“Is everything alright sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah - !”

“ - Are you Mister Gim?” Taehee interrupted. She seemed to have found whatever it was she wanted on her phone.

“That I am,” he replied.

“Do you know about Jeongguk?”

His expression grew just as puzzled as his daughter’s. “Our delivery boy? Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Gim, but he’s not what he looks like,” Heeyeon said, with a little bow of her head.

“Yeah, come look at this.” Taehee looked like she was desperately trying to hold back a smile. The effort just made her look condescending. Heeyeon hissed at her, saying something along the lines of this is too much!

A little befuddled, Yeongho took off his apron and tossed it over his shoulder, puttering out of the kitchen. Sunghyun was nervous for whatever it was Taehee had on her phone. Whatever she was about to reveal about Jeongguk was most likely something she’d rather not know - but there was a little part of her that was morbidly curious.

Yeongho emerged from the kitchen. “Alright,” he said. “What is this? If it’s something you wouldn’t show your dad, don’t show me.” He winked at Sunghyun then, trying to crack the tension. Humor was his coping mechanism for intensity. It didn’t work. His daughter still looked nervous.

Heeyeon peeked at the screen and groaned at Taehee that they should just go, but the girl pushed forward and revealed her damning evidence to the dad and daughter behind the counter.

It was not what Sunghyun expected to see.

The site Taehee had pulled up was already one she recognized - it was the one her twerp highschool boyfriend had threatened to post her nudes to when she broke up with him. It was well-known for similar content.

First thing Taehee showed them were the pictures. Pictures of Jeongguk in compromising positions with men and women in clubs, bars, bedrooms. He was never looking at the camera either; attention purely on his pleasure despite the pictures seemingly being from the point of view of his partners, at least for the most part. A few were taken by bystanders. She explained things further - names, places, times.

Some of them were in school settings; one seemingly through the cracked door of a classroom. In that one, he was bent over the desk of a professor, pants at his ankles, and the professor was bent over him. He wasn’t facing the camera. It made bile rise in her throat.

She didn’t know what to think.

Yeongho was unreadable.

The girls paid, wished her too-sweet tinny goodbyes, and left. She waved them off until they disappeared around the corner.

It was barely past lunchtime, and there was something unpleasant swirling in her gut.

Sungmin couldn’t decide what it was the feeling was. She could, however, recognize it. It was the same feeling you get when suddenly alone in a place with someone, or walking home after the sun’s set. There wasn’t an overt threat, really, just an elusive but potent instinct to be on your guard. It made her shift uncomfortably and realize how sore her feet were.

13:02.

Beside her, Yeongho sighed and leaned on the counter, playing with the edge of the apron slung over his shoulder. He looked conflicted. Lost in thought.

The shop remained empty save for the two of them.

“...Dad?” she said, after a moment of silence.

It broke him from his reverie, and he stood up with a tight inhale through his nose. Softly, he set the apron down on the window sill to the kitchen.

“I think I need to speak with your mother.”

🐯

Jeongguk arrives later, and he doesn’t even get to start his shift.

He realizes this when he walks in to see a delivery boy already there. Vest on, keys in his hand. He looks at him sympathetically as he passes him through the door, delivery in his arms. Jeongguk holds the door open for him.

The guy thanks him quietly and squeezes past. He looks sorry for him.

That’s not good, Jeongguk thinks.

He gulps and walks in. Past the counter. To the back. Into the breakroom. Mrs. Gim is there, waiting for him. They greet each other quietly.

For a moment, they stand there. Tense and awkward. She’d normally greet him warmly - fussing with his hair and checking whether or not he’d eaten lately - but now she just stood there, arms crossed. (Her finger twitched, though, when she saw a lock of hair that’d fallen into his eyes. He didn’t fix it. Shallowly, he hoped she would.)

He’s already shrinking into himself when she begins speaking. She begins with a sigh.

“We’re letting you go, Jeongguk.”

He nods. He’s not looking at her anymore. Instead, he examines the dirt on his shoes. The sole on the left on is starting to peel off.

Mrs. Gim waits, expecting a Why? that she thought was inevitable.

It’s definitely something he wants to ask. The word pinches at the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back. Why? He’s asked that question before, to other people he thought he was doing well with. And - so far, he thought he’d been doing pretty well here. Rarely late, quick deliveries, nice to customers. Maybe they aren’t making enough and can’t pay him anymore, but even then… why the other guy over him? He’s nice and all, but Jeongguk knows he performs better.

He didn’t like this feeling. It was familiar, and squirmed in his gut like a handful of worms, or maybe an eel.

A memory: Jeongguk, stepping into the bus stop by campus with his backpack and a cardboard box. It’s drizzling, and everything’s grey. Springtime. New beginnings.

Jeongguk didn’t want a new beginning. He wanted to go back, before everything went to shit and he lost everything.

He’s got no one now.

And he isn’t even sure why.

He’s not sure now, either.

Back then it’d been exile a cause de the internet, videos and pictures of things he believed private. Rumors stacked on rumors that scattered and fractured and grew in the kaleidoscope that was miscommunication, and he’d lost everything - his friends, his family, his support, his diploma. He never knew who wanted him gone. He only felt the result.

So now, it was that feeling again. That floundering sense of exile, read between the lines and felt with his gut.

He wanted to ask why. He’d been asking Why? for a year now. But no one would tell him. They either looked away, guilty but sympathetic, or glared at him as if he should already know.

So this time, he didn’t ask.

Mrs. Gim watched him through this, as he froze up and looked a bit sick, and then the light fluttered out of his eyes as he lived in a memory, and then as the light fluttered back in: hollow and grey like a moth. And then he nodded, not quite looking her in the eye, and left.

It surprised her. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

The walk home was a numb one.

🐯

Hood up, hands in his pockets. He wished he could listen to music but his earbuds had taken an accidental spin through the washer two weeks ago and he hadn’t replaced them. He walked past potholes and old cars, trash bins and stairways tucked in between buildings. Everything was so compact here. Like an anthill. The road could barely fit a car into it. It was so different from home in Busan - at least, the parts where he’d grown up. It’d still been the big city, but there was more room. You felt less anonymous walking down those streets, but here?

He felt like if he didn’t breath loud enough, he’d slip through the cracks and disappear.

It was a tempting thought.

His job at the Gim’s place had been his first real social interaction for months after dropping out of college. He’d had something to do other than rot in his apartment and pick up random jobs - he could talk with and joke around their family, and after awhile, the regulars greeted him too. He’d sucked up the attention like a sponge. It felt like something solid he could hold onto even as he hated his job, hated his apartment, hated his friends for leaving him in this shitty, anonymous, cracked city. It kept him from sinking. It reminded him of home.

So now… what?

He still had his night job at Gloss. Yoongi didn’t have any daytime jobs available, so he couldn’t convert to full time. So he’d need a new job. Even though he had money, now, from the auction robbery. He knew that, technically, he could simply… not work for awhile. But what would he even do in that free time? Nothing, probably. He’d just rot in his apartment. He needed a job; he needed something to do.

The thought made him tired. He kicked at an empty pop can, listening as it clattered away.

Left, down the alley. Down two blocks. Across the bridge. More blocks. Into his apartment.

He contemplates locking the door, forehead dropping onto it with a light thunk. He wonders if he has the energy. Is it weird to feel as strange as he does?

His posture straightens a little, and he forces himself to lock up before stumbling to the bed.

At some point he falls asleep. In retrospect he’s pretty sure he stared at the wall for a long while. If you asked him for how long, he wouldn’t remember.

🐯

The apartment stinks.

Y/N’s nose wrinkles into her face as if trying to hide the moment she registers it, having clambered over the balcony and slid into the apartment. She decides to leave the door open. Hopefully it’d air out a bit.

As she toed her shoes off, she made some observations. The smell was Jeongguk’s, definitely. Like honey and laundry detergent, with just an edge of sweat - overall, very nice - but this version was soured. Like honey that’d grown a skin of mold over the top. The musk was like dejection, exhaustion, and loneliness if it were distilled into a perfume.

She made her way into the kitchen, rooting around for one of the old scented candles he had stashed away; gifts from his mom once upon a time. This one smelled like coconut. (She’d never smelled one in real life, but if they smelled like this candle then she’d love to try one.) The cool vinyl was refreshing to walk on after a day wearing shoes. She didn’t like shoes. While climbing or sneaking around, it was hard to keep the claws on her toes retracted - so they often poked into and got caught in the insides. She’d rather go barefoot. Sadly, the city had a lot of sharp edges to cut her feet on. Glass and gravel and such. So it was a must.

Shoes, shoes. Jeongguk said to put the shoes by the door. She always forgets.

Filling a pot with some water, she leaves it to boil and goes to grab the shoes she’d left by the balcony.

There are a pair of shoes on the bed.

And - oh, there’s a person attached to the shoes.

Her neck hair prickles and she jumps, just a bit, before realizing it was just Jeongguk. A little strange he was still here. Doesn’t he have work? He’s still as a statue, black clothes blending in with black bedding. She was so used to him around that his presence didn’t alarm her the way it would anyone else. (A part of her says that could be dangerous, but the other part just begins to purr.)

He stinks even more up close. Why?

She doesn’t hesitate crawling over him, not minding if he wakes up or not. “Jeongguk,” she whispers. He doesn’t answer, so she nips at his ear.

He wakes up with a sharp inhale, head popping up off the pillow. “Y/N?”

“Who else?” she muses and settles in on top of him, tucking her nose into his neck. She quickly decides against that though and shifts down a little so her face is between his shoulder blades instead. He stinks even worse up close. The ears atop her head fold back in light dismay. “You stink.”

He snorts, dryly. “Thanks.”

“I’m not being mean. Why do you stink?”

“Saying I stink is mean. You’re mean.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

She bites his shoulder and he swats at her halfheartedly. That’s wrong, too. Normally he’d wrestle with her. Why does he stink?

“You’re worrying me.”

“Why, ‘cause I stink?”

“Yes.”

He huffs. It’s barely a laugh. Her eyebrows knit together a bit.

“Jeongguk,” she says, a little firmer this time.

“What?” He sounds a little irritable, and she growls at him a bit. He feels it more than hears it; a little rumble from her chest and up his spine. It’s not a threat. She’s just telling him to be nice.

He huffs, with a little less conviction this time, and sags back into the covers.

“Jeongguk, what’s wrong?” she whispers again. Her voice is a bit softer now.

“How can you tell?”

She shifted up, and nosed at the space behind his ear again despite the way it made her nose wrinkle. (He remembers her mentioning that his scent was strongest there. That’d been sometime after the second time she’d done this - he’d asked her why, not used to the contact, and she’d explained.)

“You stink,” she whispers.

Oh, he gets it now.

(“I can smell what you’re feeling,” she’d also told him. “Kinda.”)

He doesn’t reply for a while, and she gets even more worried. It’s moments like these that she dislikes: times where he can’t or doesn’t explain what’s hurting him, and she doesn’t know how to help properly. She admits she doesn’t have a lot of experience with comfort. Empathy? Absolutely. With cagedoggers and bastard abusers you needed to know how everyone was feeling when they had power over you; when to push, when to submit, when to be extra quiet. She was good at reading people from an arm’s length so she could best navigate around them and suffer the least damage. But - this? Offering comfort? She sucked at it. Even though she could tell something was wrong. Even though she wanted to help.

So she just pressed closer, despite the stink, wrapping around him and summoning the best purr she could manage. She wasn’t going to push it. But she wasn’t going to leave, either.

He was still, for a time. She adjusted to the smell. Still didn’t like it, still wanted to make it go away, but the overwhelming instinct to cover her nose wasn’t there anymore.

A little chuff tickled his neck.

It was the same noise she’d made when she’d saved him from the river. He’d done a little research on it later and learned it was a tiger thing. Reflected on how weird it was to hear it from a human. But he’d learned to take it for what it was - comfort. It wasn’t weird anymore. It was nice, actually. Familiar.

And for some reason, it made him cry.

She didn’t even realize until she heard him sniffle, and she panicked a little. Shit, she was terrible at comfort. Had she made him cry, somehow? “Jeongguk?” she asked again. It was quiet, but urgent.

She shifted to the side and tried to turn him over to look at his face, but he remained face-down in the pillow. He didn’t want to be looked at. There was a new flavor to the mold, now - this one smelled like shame, but she didn’t know what for.

She didn’t know what to do, so she defaulted to her go-to. Hold him.

He cried for a while. It wasn’t a pretty cry; it twisted his face into a grimace and blotched the skin from the tips of his ears down to his shoulders red. Part of him knew it didn’t look good, so he kept his face muffled in the pillow. It made him feel shallow. He still cared about looking good? Now? But the shame overcame the shallowness, and he kept hiding. He had a full-body tremble shaking through him. And he cried, and he cried, and Y/N held him as tight as she could. Her heart ached for him.

She didn’t know what to do with that ache. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the skin of his neck, though she wasn’t sure what for. She repeated it though, again and again, hoping that the warmth of her breath and the light flutter of her lips would help ground him.

To an extent, it did. He knew - from somewhere in the back of his mind, even as his body continued to tremble and grimace - that it’s so much better crying when someone’s holding you. Even though there’s some shame in it. Even though it’s the same sort of vulnerability as an open wound.

Losing his energy seems to be the theme of the day.

He stops crying when he goes numb and gets tired. He could cry more. He doesn’t feel better. But he’s out of tears, his lips are chapped, and his throat’s raw. There’s no more energy to keep crying.

Y/N presses in closer, like there was any space even left between them. He measures the rise and fall of her chest; tries to match it. Alright, maybe he’s a little better. Not good, but better. Raw is better than apathetic and tearless. Just gotta breathe.

In and out, on beat. A little better, yeah.

She rolls them to the side, a little worried he’d suffocate on the pillow. Her fingers weave into his hair.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He relaxes with the gentle massage, even though his chest still feels terribly empty. A little debate takes place in his head.

One side argues to keep his mouth shut and go to sleep. He still has a shift at Gloss tonight. Being tired then is not an option. Not when he’s setting up needled tattoo guns and jars of ink around maybe-criminals. The other side, though - the less lazy one, maybe - knows that Y/N’s gonna worry her hair (and fur? no?) out. She’s seen him down before, yeah, but never breakdown like this.

Her ear twitches, and she mutters a “ - shit - ” before scrambling up over him and passing over to the kitchen. “Do you want some ramen? I had water boiling.”

The thought of eating makes his gut squirm, but he knows it’ll make him feel better. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Can I… water, too?”

“Mhm.”

As she rustles around in the kitchen, he rolls onto his back. His face feels stiff. His eyes are itchy, too. They shut, and it stings.

Y/N watches him from the kitchen. Different scenarios passed through her brain as she poked at the noodles with some chopsticks. Honestly, she was at a bit of a loss. They had money, they had each other; he had Gloss and the Gims and time to sleep. So, something else? There was still so much she didn’t know about him. This was a heavy reminder of that.

The world was really quiet, then. Just the bubble and gurgle of the noodles, the soft beats of their breaths, the gentle shuffle of fabric.

She dished up. Poured him a glass of water. Returned.

There was a soft series of clinks as she set the bowls down on the bedside table, pulling him to sit up so she could sit behind him. It didn’t seem like he wanted to make any eye contact now, which she understood. She wasn’t a big fan of it either in moments of vulnerability.

It took them a moment to settle. She made him eat first, just a couple bites. Had him drink some water. He appreciated it. It didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would. He was actually kind of hungry. It was easy to tell Y/N was bursting at the seams with questions, but holding back until he was ready. She tugged on his hoodie strings in the meantime.

“It’s a long story,” he finally said.

“We’ve got hours.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You sure you wanna hear it, though? It’s baggage.”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew she glared then - as if saying Really? Like I haven’t unloaded baggage on you before?

“Alright, fine,” he muttered.

And then he took a deep breath, and began.

A / N: I have no goddamn excuse for not updating this long hGSGH.. but with quarantine yall can expect semi-regular updates from me now. this story sucks but im gonna finish anyway. i’m gonna try to set up an actual wip schedule and maybe even a masterlist if i can figure out how to decipher this bitch of a site

stay safe yall and uhhh dont lick doorknobs n shit 💞 thank u guys for waiting

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