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sprnklersplashes · 3 years

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songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But��

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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echo-hiraeth · 3 years

Text

Newlyweds - Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader [NSFW]

Summary: When Jack and y/n are assigned a mission that requires a cover, they are assigned the role of husband and wife. But the suave agent can’t contain himself any longer and doesn’t want to play pretend anymore.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, spice, NSFW 18+ only

Masterlist

This mission wasn’t at all what you’d expected it to be. Some crazed millionaire seeking world domination and infinite power wasn’t all that unusual to you, but the way you had to go about stopping him was different. So here you were, standing in the five-star-hotel’s lobby, dressed in clothes more expensive than your fucking car, your fellow agent’s arm slung across you waist. Champ had paired you together with agent Whiskey, his boosted ego already getting on your nerves.

“Ready doll?”, he whispered in your ear as you approached the counter.

“Just get it over with”, you mumbled, faking a smile as the woman behind the counter greeted you.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you today?”, she asked excitedly, tilting her head at the two of you.

Jack placed a hand on the counter, leaning against it. “My wife and I have a reservation, the name’s Brandy.”

The lady typed away on her keyboard. In the meantime Jack pressed a peck to your forehead, making you have to fight the urge to kick him in the nuts. “Ah yes, the honeymoon suite, ninth floor. Congratulations Mister and Missus Brandy! Here’s your key, your bags will be brought up shortly, please do feel free to call us if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much”, you cooed as you took the key from her hand.

The two of you headed towards the elevator, Jack’s hand comfortably resting on your lower back as you did so. As soon as the metal doors slipped closed you swatted his hand off of you. “No need to take advantage of the situation, Daniels”, you huffed.

“Oh come on sugar, we need to make it somewhat believable. We’ve been trying to get this guy for weeks and this is the closest we’ve gotten.”

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your mouth shut when the doors suddenly slipped open. He took your hand as he walked you down the hallway, nodding his head at a maid along the way.

When you reached the dark double doors to your sweet the two of you came to a halt. You slowly slipped the key into the lock, sucking in a breath when the doors opened to reveal a gorgeous and luxurious loft. Jack slowly closed the door while you had a look for yourself.

There was a small dining area connected to a tiny kitchen with a see-through fridge filled with alcoholic beverages. To your left you found a bathroom consisting of a lavish walk-in shower and the other facilities you’d expect to find there. The bedroom was gorgeous, the huge bed stood in the middle, directly under the mirrors that found themselves on the ceiling. You ran your hand over the silky bedsheets, the sheer softness of them sending a shiver throughout your being. In the corner of a room stood a luxurious hot tub, the windows behind it looking out over the city. On the other side of the bedroom you spotted a lounging area and huge television. This place was fancy as fuck.

A knock at the door startled you as you were drawn from you inner thoughts. You watched as your pretend-husband opened it, helping the staff member haul your bags inside.

“Mister Brandy, if you’d let me”, he spoke, rolling a tray filled with desserts and champagne into the room. “It is our great pleasure to have you and your wife with us to celebrate something so special.”

“Pleasure’s all ours, thank you”, he ensured the man, smiling as he slipped him a hundred dollar bill.

The member of staff left without another words, leaving the two of you alone once again. “Well dearest wife, care for a toast?”, Jack taunted as he winked at you.

“I could do with a glass”, you chuckled as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

He popped the cork off, elegantly pouring two glasses before walking over to you. A smirk set on his lips as he handed you the glass, softly skimming his fingers across yours. The two of you clinked your glasses together before each taking a sip, his eyes focused on you the entire time.

You’d worked some cases with him before and were not to keen on working with him again. He always drove you crazy, the flirting and small touches made your mind wander to places really not appropriate for work. Jack was known to be flirtatious, you were well aware, but it was getting harder and harder for you to resist his attempts and caring gestures. Having to play his wife for the week surely wasn’t helping. The continuous strokes and embraces drove you more insane than he ever had.

“You need to get changed, event starts in less than an hour.” You looked up at him to find him already staring back at you, tilting his head in confusion. “You okay, doll?”

“Uh – yeah, was just thinking about how I’m going to get to him later”, you lied, getting up off the bed and carrying one of your suitcases to the bed.

“Intel is not sure he’ll be there tonight, but some of his people should. Just try to get around and talk to as many people as you need. It is absolutely crucial we find out his location tonight, Tequila will be on stake-out outside”, he informed while you slowly pulled a black bag out of your suitcase.

When you zipped it open it revealed a long, revealing, satin, maroon dress. You chuckled nervously upon seeing the thigh-slit. “I thought we were supposed to blend in.”

“You take the bathroom first, I’ll freshen up after you”, he instructed, handing you a small bag filled with toiletries.

The moment you left that bathroom all dressed up, was the moment Jack’s heart stopped. He felt the palpitations with every step you took, your heels clicking in time with the thumps in his chest. He cleared his throat, quickly disappearing into the bathroom to finish up as well. It wasn’t like him to lose his composure like that, he just didn’t expect you to look that sexy. The agent splashed some cold water on his face, patting it dry with a hand towel right after, not wanting to get his suit wet. He’d had his eye on you for quite a while now but had tried to keep things professional. The risks that came with being a Statesman weren’t minimal and even though you were a strong woman, he couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. He decided to make the most of your fake marriage, seeing how he thought you had no interest in him like that whatsoever.

He calmy left the bathroom, telling you that it was time to go. You’d just finished strapping your gun to your upper right thigh, asking him if it was hidden alright. He nodded, urging you to follow him. The elevator ride was silent, awkwardly silent.

“You’re looking really dapper tonight, Daniels”, you started.

He scoffed, looking at you. “I look like a glorified hillbilly next to you… You look stunning, doll.”

You blushed a bit at that, taking his hand in your as you reached you designated floor. When you entered the banquet hall you felt overwhelmed by all the people and flashing lights, the jazz music a pleasant mitigator as Jack leaned over to you.

“See that lounge up the stairs, they’re with him, that’s where we need to go”, his breath was hot against your neck as he spoke, trying to avoid any further suspicion by kissing you there. “Our informant will introduce us to them and then it’s all us from there.” He pressed a peck to your cheek before breaking apart, dragging you through the crowd.

“Ah! The newlyweds!”, you informant laughed, engulfing the both of you in a hug. “If I may say”, he continued, grabbing a hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips and swiping his tongue across the wedding band, “you look amazing Miss.”

“Missus”, Jack corrected him, wrapping a protective arm around you.

The informant smirked, encouraging you to follow him. You got into the small lounging space without a problem, a waiter offering the three of you a drink, which Jack gratefully accepted.

“Emilio! Come meet my friends!”, your informant yelled, a scrawny-looking man walking over to the three of you. “These are the Brandy’s, the banker and his wife I told you about.”

“Ah yes, I remember you telling me about them. Forgive me, but your names seem to have slipped my mind”, Emilio smirked, shaking hands with the two of you.

“John Brandy, and this is my wife Leah, pleasure to meet you”, Jack grinned, his grip around your waist tightening ever so slightly.

“Leah, let me introduce you to my wives, by all means, join them for some games. I think me and your husband have some business to attend to”, the man suggested, though it sounded more like an order.

“Gladly, I’ll let the big boys get to work”, you taunted, not feeling to happy with the man’s derogatory attitude.

Jack smiled at you, proud at your daring character. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips before winking and walking away with the man, leaving you breathless. What. The. Fuck.

You quickly waved the thought and lingering burn of it away and you joined the women on the leather couches. While Jack was off talking with the righthand of your culprit, you worked on getting some information out of the girls. Your newly assigned mission become more and more successful with every drink the girls downed, their integrity and sworn secrecy decreasing with every sweet drop of liquor. Not to come off as suspicious, you drank along with them as well, or so it seemed, you kept dumping your glass into another girl’s, which went by unnoticed every time. You pretended to be just as drunk as them, giggling and flailing your arms as you spoke.

When Jack came back he wore a proud smile on his face until he spotted you. An adoring smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay, looks like someone’s done drinking for the night”, he chuckled as he took the glass from your hands.

You whined in response, making a bit of a fuss, as a drunk person might. He supported your weight as you slumped against him, Emilio and the informant giving Jack a knowing grin. “Take care of that one, Brandy. You’re lucky you found her before I did.”

He balled his hand in a fast, forcing a smile and nodding his head at them as he helped you to the exit. You were giggling and telling the wildest story as he pressed the elevator button. As soon as you stepped inside and the doors closed you stood up straight, sighing to yourself.

“Quite the performance y/l/n”, Jack joked.

“Why thank you agent Whiskey.”

Jack filled you and Tequila (over the earpiece) in about his newly acquired information, as did you.

“So he’s on the same floor? Just untouchable?”, Tequila questioned.

“Until tomorrow. I scored a meeting with him, though I doubt it’ll be any good, the guy’s got a whole army up there”, Jack replied, loosening up his tie.

“We’ll go from there, we did the best we could for tonight”, you said, bent down to take your heels off.

“She’s right, talk tomorrow Tequila”, Jack mumbled as the elevator dinged, signalling you’d reached your desired floor.

Another loaded silence filled the room as the two of you sat down on the couches. Jack was trying to keep himself from jumping you, your dress making it nearly impossible for him to think.

“You’re thinking too loud”, you joked, lifting up your dress to unstrap your gun from your thigh.

His eyes followed your every movement and lingered on the exposed flesh, his hardening length pressing against the fabric of his pants. “Sugar, I’m gonna need you to get changed.”

You raised your brow in confusion until you laid eyes on him. His hands were balled into fists on the armrests, eyes screwed shot, chest raising and falling with laboured breaths. A devilish smirk appeared on your face as you went to stand. “What’s wrong cowboy, thought you could deal with some heat?”

“Stop”, he warned, lustful eyes burning into yours.

“I don’t know, I quite enjoy seeing you so… desperate.”

And there it was, with a swift tug on your lower arm he pulled you on top of him. Faces only inches apart. His hand hovered over your exposed back, suddenly pushing you into him, hungry lips devouring yours. You let out a moan as his tongue swiped across your plump lips, keenly allowing him entrance. His tongue stroked yours lovingly, his hands wandering over your body through your dress.

He picked you up, bringing you over to the bed and dragged the zipper on your side down as he gently laid you flat on your back. “As much as I love this little number on you, I’d much prefer to have it on the ground right about now.”

“By all means Mister Brandy, do what you must”, you purred as you pushed his jacket over his broad shoulders. A grunt sounded form his chest as he lifted the satin fabric over your head, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lacey thongs.

“Fuck doll, you look amazing. I’ve been dreaming of this”, he mused, hurriedly opening the buttons of his dress shirt, letting it cascade onto the hardwood floors.

You tugged on his belt as he kissed along your collarbones, hands cupping your naked breasts ever so gently. When the buckle gave way you opened the button, pushing his pants down his ass, further sliding them down with your feet, until they also hit the floor.

He softly caressed your cheekbone as he hummed: “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You smirked before rolling him over, smoothly climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. “What’s wrong Jack? Nervous?”, you taunted, softly sucking on the skin of his neck.

The man groaned, roughly grabbing your ass with one hand while the other brought your face back up to his. “I’m not sure I can keep things professional if we do this.”

Your lips slowly covered his again, as you started slowly moving back and forth against his crotch. His tongue became more needy and fervent, his body aching with anticipation. “As if they every were in the first place. I can’t stop thinking about you either”, you uttered, cupping his bulge through his boxers while leaning down to catch his lips in another searing kiss.

He grabbed onto your hips as you dragged his underwear down, encouraging you to just get on with it already. With his boxers halfway down his thighs and your thongs hastily shoved to the side, you slowly sunk down on his erection. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you slowly took in every inch of him. He grunted from the sensation and divine sight in front of him, his hands coming up the squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. You slowly started moving your hips when suddenly you heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway. Jack was groaning beneath you, eyes closed and blissfully unaware. You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, stilling your movements as you focused on the noises outside.

“Fuck, that’s him”, you cursed as you got off of him, slipping his shirt on before grabbing your gun.

Jack watched you, visibly confused. “Darlin’, I’m gonna need an explanation here”, he chuckled as he watched you, putting his boxers back on.

You quietly opened the door, motioning for him to shut up as well. Your suspicions were confirmed as you saw your target right down the hallway. Without a doubt, you screwed the silencer onto the barrel of your fun. Jack promptly came up behind you, electric lasso in hand. The two of you shared a knowing look before you stepped out into the hallway, barely covered up.

With two shots his bodyguards were taken care of and within seconds your target was trapped within the grip of Jack’s lasso. You walked up to him, expertly catching the cuffs Jack tossed over to you before fastening them around the man’s wrists.

“Did I interrupt something important here?”, the culprit joked, eyes locked on your barely covered form.

“Where the hell are your manners?”, Jack let out, carelessly knocking the man out. “Don’t you ever disrespect a lady like that.”

You wore a confident smile, hands on your hips as you locked eyes with him. “Tequila will be up in a second, how about you and I get back to that suite?”

“Who am I to deny my wife on the night of her honeymoon.”

He swept you off your feet, carrying you back into the room and kicking the door shut.

“You wish cowboy”, you laughed, slipping off the wedding band.

“Keep that on doll, it suits you”, he uttered, pressing a fiery kiss to your mouth.

“Maybe one day when you give me one yourself.”

#pedro pascal #agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman #statesman #imagine

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specterchasing-a · 3 years

Text

People Like Us || Morgan & Eddie

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Morgan’s House

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & @specterchasing

SUMMARY: Eddie needs help accepting the truth about who he is, and who better to lend a hand than Morgan Beck?

CONTAINS: Internalized homophobia tw, domestic abuse mention tw (section is tagged)

Eddie learned Morgan didn’t pull punches the day he came across her picnicking among the headstones of Jericho Hill. She took one look at him and effortlessly seemed to understand what made him tick. At the time, he didn’t realize she went easy on him. He knew better now. After their last conversation, he doubted she wanted anything to do with him, or that she ever would again. Unfortunately, that didn’t change how badly he needed her help.

He pulled his car into her driveway and put it in park. Unsteady breaths staggered the rise and fall of his chest. “In through the nose, out through the mouth,” Eddie quietly instructed himself as he exited the car, flinching when the car door slammed shut upon its release from his hand. Moonlight assisted the mansion’s porchlight in illuminating the path to her front door. If it weren’t for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, he might have appreciated the sleepy suburban ambience.

Eddie reached the door and raised his fist, hesitating at the last second. If he turned around now, he could probably still make it to his car before Morgan noticed it in her driveway. He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat, and felt his eyes begin to sting with budding tears. Leaving now would only prove her right for calling him a coward. “Shit,” he sighed before finally knocking.

Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard someone knock on the front door. When Bex and Mina stayed, they had keys. Urk rang the bell or called out, blubbering, through the window. An unexpected knock on the door was the wrong kind of normal. Even the cats complained with tense ears and whiny meows. Make it go away.

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” Morgan mumbled. She hesitated before approaching the door, bracing herself for the worst, then decided that maybe there was no such thing in White Crest and flung it open only to find… “Eddie?” She was too surprised to keep the incredulity out of her voice. As far as she was aware they had nothing left to say to each other. She frowned, struggling to process. “Uh….can I help you?”

The sight of Morgan instantly inflamed Eddie’s precarious emotional state. He blinked as the budding tears started to blossom. More people had seen him cry in the past few weeks than he cared to admit, and Eddie wasn’t eager to add another name to the list. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like he had a say in the matter once a stray tear fled down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “God, Morgan, I’m so sorry.” Eddie bled as much sincerity into his apology as he could muster, she needed to believe him. “I can’t do this.” He shrugged helplessly before his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You were right about everything, and I want to set things right. With Bex, with you, with myself.” His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek momentarily. “But I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t have anyone else I can go to about this. Only one other person knows about me, and he doesn’t know Bex the way you do.”

Whatever hostility Morgan had been holding onto against Eddie melted as soon as she saw his tears. And then his arms over his chest, the way he seemed desperate to hold himself together when the truth was he couldn’t, his guilt, his hurt. Morgan had seen it dozens of times, almost half of them in the mirror when she was even younger than Eddie. She didn’t know what else to do but come out and wrap him up as best she could.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eddie. It doesn’t feel like it, but you will be.” She pulled away, searching his face to find his comfort levels, and gave him a little tug. “Come inside, tell me what you’re worried about, and we’ll come up with something, okay?” She gave him the softest smile she could; nothing was so bad if you could smile a little about it.

Morgan didn’t yell at him, or slam the door in his face like Eddie thought she would. Instead, she hugged him, and that wasn’t something he prepared himself for on the drive over. His throat tightened as he returned the gesture, arms wrapping around her as he grounded himself within the moment. Eddie didn’t receive much physical affection. Usually, he was the one dishing it out, but he appreciated the role reversal more than he could say.

She spoke to him in words of affirmation so kind he almost believed them. As far as he could tell, ‘okay’ was officially out of his reach and would be for the foreseeable future, but he decided not to argue. He caught her eye when she pulled back and he made an effort to smile, but the best he could do was purse his lips together. Eddie followed her inside, nodding along with everything she said.

“Thank you,” he said softly now that they were surrounded by the mansion’s walls. “Sorry, I didn’t get this far in my head,” Eddie admitted after a beat of silence. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “What I’m worried about is essentially everything.” He didn’t intend to sound so dramatic, but his entire world was changing around him, and he didn’t know how to talk about that nonchalantly. “But, uhm, we can start with Bex. I have to tell her. I don’t want to, but I have to, and she’s going to hate me. I don’t have a lot of friends, Morgan, so losing her is gonna suck for me.”

Morgan led Eddie into the kitchen and started on some tea. The last thing he needed was to dehydrate while he was this tense. She smirked to herself, remembering that everything went wrong between them around a teapot last time. Maybe this could be a good do-over for both of them. While the water boiled, she put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to sit.

“Eddie,” she began, warm and gentle. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself. Why, exactly, do you think Bex is going to hate you? For that matter, why do you think anyone who really cares about you will?” She brushed back his messy hair, sighing. After all these years, not much had changed, not for the kids she knew, at least. “Eddie Carridine, there is nothing wrong with being the person you are. There is nothing bad or ugly or inferior about the person you were made to be. Who told you that there was?”

Eddie didn’t take in much of his surroundings. Morgan’s interior design choices passed by in a blur on their way to the kitchen. He watched as she prepared a pot of tea, the parallel between tonight and their last meeting not being lost on him either. He hoped to actually stick around long enough to try it this time.

Morgan encouraged him to sit down, and Eddie obliged. His eyes, a little wider than usual, locked onto hers as she kept him from continuing on his downward spiral. The tone she used, the way she pushed his hair out of his face, it all felt so foreign. After Eddie learned to walk and talk, his parents never soothed him with gentle voices or gestures of affection. They preferred to let Eddie work through emotional distress on his own. They told him it would build character, but all it ever did was make him feel desperately alone. Having Morgan, someone he barely knew, do what they refused to without prompting left him feeling conflicted, but mostly grateful.

“Bex is going to hate me because I don’t think we can work through these kinds of differences,” Eddie announced, wishing he could keep the tone light. If he could, maybe the weight pressing down on his chest would start to let up. “Our relationships will be over and, I dunno, I feel like that might upset her.” Bex genuinely seemed to like him, which remained an overwhelming source of guilt.

As far as who told Eddie that being himself was a punishable offense, the list went on and on. “Do you have all day?” he asked dryly. Deflecting didn’t make him feel any better. A sigh slipped past his lips and he decided to take the question more seriously. “My parents, for starters,” he said as the lump in his throat returned. “They, uh, had expectations for me, still do, actually. And I really think this would be the final straw for them. Right now, the only reason I’m still on their insurance and why they pay my car-note is that they’re holding onto hope that I might still grow up to be a normal boy, with a normal wife, and normal kids.”

“Oh, Eddie…” Morgan sighed, brushing through the rest of his hair. “Normal isn’t a real thing. It’s an aspirational lie. No one’s normal. And, sure, you spend your time on YouTube and you can see dead people, but isn’t that also kind of what makes you amazing? Why shouldn’t this also be something that makes you amazing?” She focused on his eyes, willing him to unclench just a little more, to make this easier for both of them. “Also, not every breakup has to end in anyone hating anyone. There’s even a proud tradition in certain circles of staying friends with exes.” Also, Bex had the same secret as Eddie. But that wasn’t hers to tell.

The kettle raddled on the stove and Morgan went to attend to it. She reached for a jar of something ready-made and dipped a heaping spoonful into the infuser and started preparing their cups. “I want to get to the heart of this with you, I do, but I need to know what level of ‘last straw’ you’re talking about here. I mean, are your parents going to hurt you, if you tell them this? Do you need to secure some resources for yourself or have someone pseudo-indestructible around? Also--” She brought the tea to the kitchen island and slid it toward Eddie before climbing onto the stool next to him. “You still haven’t told me yet. What we’re talking around, what you’re trying to accept about yourself. It might help, if you can name it.”

Eddie wanted so badly to see normality the way Morgan did, but the idea of it seemed incontestably desirable to him in this case. All his life, his parents barely acknowledged his existence and he knew he should resent them for it, but he still craved their approval in spite of everything; in spite of himself. Just once, he wanted them to recognize him as something to be proud of instead of branding him a failure with every step he took.

“Amazing?” Eddie echoed quietly. The sudden commendation shooed away all thoughts of his parents. He looked up at Morgan like he expected her to take it back. “Most people just think the ghost thing is kind of weird.” His shoulders raised in a soft shrug. Ghosts gave his life meaning, but his dedication to them also made it more difficult to navigate. “Or fake.” Amazing. The word hung stubbornly in his mind as if daring him to believe what Morgan said could be true. “How can something that keeps me up at night be amazing?” he asked genuinely. Before he could take a leap of faith and try to celebrate instead of hide, he needed more answers.

“I’d like that,” Eddie said about staying friends with Bex. “I really do care about her, that part wasn’t a lie.” The calming way Morgan familiarized herself with his hair and seemed to know exactly what to say slowly encouraged him to take refuge in the safety of his time with her. He sniffled, but the tears in his eyes were drying. Breathing came a little easier now, which felt like a miraculous turn of events.

[DOMESTIC ABUSE MENTION]

“Not physically, I don’t think,” he answered honestly, his eyes following her as she tended to the tea. “Dad’s only ever lost his temper with me like that once.” Not a fond memory, but enough time spanned between now and then that Eddie could discuss it without unravelling. “I think they’d disown me though,” he added softly. He caught the cup of tea she slid his way and focused on the steam rising to meet his face instead of his parents. “I make good enough money, but I won’t turn down the other offer, if only for moral support.” He turned his head to face her as she sat down and made another attempt at a smile, this time with marginally more success.

[END OF DOMESTIC ABUSE MENTION]

The hint of a smile diminished when she probed for a label. Saying it out loud to Alfie hadn’t been easy, and maybe he’d been naïve for thinking it wouldn’t be hard the second time around. “I’m—” His eyes closed tightly as his head tilted to the side. He hated this, the way a three letter word felt like Mt. fucking Everest. “This is such bullshit,” Eddie announced with suddenly reopening eyes. He straightened up and took a breath. Try again. “I—I like guys, I guess.” The words shot out of his mouth faster than his usual speech, but he said it. And he didn’t feel sick. In fact, he felt kind of relieved. “One guy in particular, but yeah. I’m gay, probably. I dunno, something like that.” He winced at his convoluted confession, but he guessed it could have been worse. It could have been like the last time she tried to goad him into honesty.

Morgan ached to see how much Eddie craved comfort, like he’d been starved for it his whole life. He had the kind of hurt that didn’t show up on the body, the kind that she carried, that was so easy to delude yourself about. And how many times had her throat closed up when she’d tried to tell her mother, Sorry, everything’s my fault because I can only like girls! I’m a lesbian! It had been years before the words came easy to her. Eddie was only just getting started.

“Hey,” she said softly, reaching for a clean towel and leaning over to wipe his cheeks with all the care she wished for him. “It’s not bullshit. It’s hard, I know it’s hard. But you are one of the dreamiest gay boys that ever popped out of the rainbow, and we are all so lucky that you exist. Maybe even especially the boy you like. I want to hear all about him, but first, new plan: we’re moving somewhere comfy. You’re not a part of the family until you’ve had an emotional moment in the great room, so let’s get moving.”

She hopped off her stool and took Eddie’s mug and led him further into the house, toward the large plushy couch she and everyone she loved spent so much time on. “Also, I hope this goes without saying, but I will be there for support if that’s what you want. Just tell me when and where to show up. But, back to the main point: you’re amazing, and whatever happens, there’s no good reason for anyone to think differently. Especially because you’re gay. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we make the world go round in the most fabulous ways. But, conditioning, parents, society--there’s a lot of bullshit that keeps people like us from understanding that. When I came out to my mother, I was crying and apologizing because I thought I was literally cursing our family with my gayness. So as much as I believe in you, as much as I’m making this sound like some obvious truth--because it is--I can imagine why you might have a hard time believing it. But I don’t want to guess or project too much of myself.” At last, she settled down in her usual spot among the cushions, floating around them for how little she felt their presence. “So, can I ask you? Other people aside, because we can’t control other people’s choices, what about being gay scares you, or worries you or makes you feel...weird?”

Being called ‘one of the dreamiest gay boys to ever pop out of the rainbow’ managed to inspire Eddie’s first genuine smile of the night. Traces of sadness still lingered on his face, but he appreciated the break in tension more than he knew how to say. He didn’t know how to grapple with her saying people were lucky to know him, especially within the current context, it felt surreal. He wanted to thank Morgan in a way that showcased how much everything she said meant to him, but everything he thought to say fell short.

In the great room, he made himself comfortable next to her on the couch. A family of people like Morgan sounded too good to be true like most of what she said. Thinking about it reminded him of what she told him about the importance of hope, and Eddie decided there must have been some truth to it. As scary as it was to picture a brighter future for himself, it began to seem less like a lost cause.

“You apologized?” He didn’t mean to sound so shocked. Even though he knew better, it often seemed like self-acceptance came easier to everyone else. Hearing that even Morgan struggled to come to terms with her sexuality made him feel substantially less alone. Eddie considered her next question carefully by turning his attention inward, it wasn’t something he often did. Pleasing the people around him automatically took precedence over making himself happy.

“Thinking about it now, I guess most of what scares me has to do with other people,” he admitted. “Rejection, ridicule, judgment, harassment. Those are the big ones and, like you said, all of that’s out of my control.” Eddie took his first sip of tea now that enough time had passed for it to cool. His hands shook a little. “If all I had to worry about was myself, I…” he trailed off in contemplation. “When I’m alone with Alfie, he’s the guy I mentioned, everything else falls away. When I touch him or manage to make him laugh—that’s it. That’s all that matters; just us. And it feels… amazing until I ask myself how people might react if they saw us. Then I start to feel dirty or-or like I’m doing something wrong, kind of like I’m going to be punished for being happy because…. because that’s always how it’s been.” Eddie realized how true what he said was as he said it. “Being gay scares me because it makes me happy.”

Had Morgan apologized to her mother? “Oh, profusely. I actually thought, if I just kept apologizing, maybe I wouldn’t ever have to actually say it and potentially break what little good there was between my mother and me. But she gave me this impatient look, and I had to, so I did. And it was--” She paused, smiling sadly. “It was maybe the only time she was really sorry for anything she’d done. She uh...she took care of me for a little bit. And that was nice. But this was in 1999, and we had an implicit understanding to keep that part of me on a need-to-know basis. But, things are different, in some ways. Maybe not for your parents, maybe not everywhere, but here? So different. So much better.” She ruffled his hair again and tried to look ahead into something better, lighter than the world he was currently living in. What would he even look like if he was really happy?

“Eddie, I really, really mean what I’m about to say. And I am saying it as someone who was literally cursed with eternal suffering during her life. As a lesbian born in ‘81. As someone who knows all kinds of logic-mazes for explaining why happiness equals bad. Okay?” She took a deep breath and turned his face gently to make sure he was looking at her face. “Love itself is never wrong. And so any happiness that comes from love can never be wrong. And you, Eddie, are so worthy of love. The last thing you need to carry is shame for discovering love, which is one of the best parts of being alive. And the last thing you should do is starve your humanity from love because of other people. The people who are happy for you and your love are the ones you should build community with anyway.”

1999 sounded like a lifetime ago. For Eddie, it nearly was. With the current state of the world and the issues its inhabitants faced, he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like back then. A need-to-know basis, that’s how Morgan described the experience. Eddie shook his head sadly. Living like that must have been so draining. Even now, for all his fear and uncertainty, he knew how lucky he was to be alive now instead of then. If he’d been born alongside Morgan in the ‘80s, this conversation likely wouldn’t have been possible. Not with her, and not with anyone else, for that matter.

Looking to the past and acknowledging the hard-won fights of those who came before him, especially while sitting next to one of the veterans, an unexpected feeling came over Eddie. His journey, although he would be the one most affected by it, wasn’t only about him.

“It’s different because of people like you,” he said. “I—” Eddie felt a knot form in his throat. “Morgan, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to reach this point. Years, maybe? And that’s if it ever happened at all.” Harsh as she’d been, her words resonated with him and carried him through confessing to Alfie. “You saw me, really saw me, and refused to tolerate the bullshit. I think I understand why now.” He shifted to face her more fully. “I want to be more like you, Morgan. Someone who makes the world a better place by existing as is, not someone who hides for the comfort of people who don’t love them.”

Love, happiness, community. Morgan said the words and Eddie latched onto them for dear life. He knew better than to think this would be easy, or that his budding bravery would never again waver in the face of adversity, but he felt better equipped to face the future. “I think you’re right,” he ventured as a look of determination shone in his bleary eyes. “I mean, I want to, anyway, and that’s a start. It’s more than I had before.”

Morgan went still, completely bewildered. “I didn’t do much,” she admitted quietly. “I was too scared. I told myself I’d just make things worse all around. But, you know, everyone was kind of scared back then. It was never about some people magically not being scared. It was about not letting your fear trap you into a life so much smaller than what you should have. You--don’t need to be like me, Eddie. Especially not the me I was at your age. I--maybe it’s not fair of me, but I really just want to spare you some of the suffering I carried with me for so long, and the suffering of people I knew. I saw tiny maneuvers that I used to make when we were talking and I saw your hurt and I just wanted to make it stop for you.” She shrugged. “Don’t wait to find the love of your life until you’re at the ass-end of your thirties. I mean, if it takes that long, who cares, because it’s exactly as cheesy and gratifying as every song you’ve ever heard makes it sound and that is worth every star in the universe. But don’t wait that long to try! You are so young, and it is over so fast. What a waste to spend it hiding when you can be testing your capacity for joy?”

She beamed at Eddie and gave his arm a squeeze. “Deciding to is a really good start. All that’s next is doing it. Do you want to figure out what you want to say? To Bex? To your parents?”

Even with Morgan telling him he didn’t need to be like her, Eddie didn’t let her convince him. He wouldn’t argue and insist she accept his purview, that didn’t seem like it would do much good. Instead, he decided to show her his appreciation with his actions moving forward. She thought she didn’t do much, and he imagined it really did feel that way, but it got her to where she was now; teaching him how to love himself in a way no one had done before. Whether she knew it or not, he owed her immensely.

He grinned when she mentioned finding the love of her life. Eddie was grateful she did, and wondered if he might have too. He knew it was too soon to tell even if he and Alfie had known each other for years, but it didn’t hurt to play with the thought.

Eddie took a deep breath when she asked where he’d like to begin. “Bex, definitely,” he said with a confident nod. “I don’t want whatever my mom and dad have to say about it to throw me off before I have a chance to enjoy myself, y’know? With Bex, at least she won’t hold it against me for just… being who I am.”

“No, she won’t,” Morgan agreed. “She won’t appreciate being lied to, but she’s not a closed minded girl. I think being honest about why you did what you did and why you’re doing this now is a good step alongside, you know, ‘guess what babe, I’m gay’. It’s kind of awful, but coming clean is usually the fastest way to fix something when you’ve made a mess. Even if it also feels like the hardest.” And maybe Bex would have some relief and tell Eddie about all those ‘I love you’s she’d exchanged with Mina by the pool. But as much as that would give Eddie some comfort, it wasn’t hers to tell. And maybe he’d feel braver, going in prepared for the worst and finding his world still intact. “Although, maybe don’t be that casual and literally say that. Unless it helps you say it easier! Once the words have come out, you sort of have to keep going with them, and that can actually be as great as it is scary.”

Eddie’s head bobbed in agreement as Morgan offered advice. He wouldn’t let doubt trickle in and throw him off course, not yet. If she said Bex would understand, he trusted her. They lived together once, made art together, they had to have been close. Eddie momentarily wondered why that all came to an end, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions like that. In any case, it wasn’t his business what went on between Bex and Morgan even if he cared about both of them a great deal.

He breathed a soft laugh through his nose when she advised him against being as casual as her example. “I have… no idea what the easiest way to say it will be,” he admitted. “I try to plan it out in my mind and a wall goes up.” He made a sharp gesture with his hand to mimic the wall being built. “Maybe…” Eddie trailed off as an idea began forming. “Okay, what if you pretend to be Bex and we play out what might happen? I think I’ll do better with a trial run.”

Morgan snorted with laughter. “We, uh--” Could, but there’s no way I can prepare you for her not-girlfriend in the pool. “Yeah! Why not. Bex is not the most predictable girl, but I will do my best.” She took a deep breath and adjusted herself on the couch. “Hey, Eddie,” she said, doing her best imitation of Bex’s speech cadence. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

Eddie straightened up and mentally prepared himself, but the second Morgan imitated Bex, he burst out in unexpected laughter. “Is that really what you think Mainers sound like?” he asked in a bubbly tone. “Maybe, just use your normal accent and I’ll rely on my imagination. I cannot take you seriously when you sound like that.”

“What? That was totally spot-on!” Morgan said, laughing in spite of herself. She shook out her hair and tossed it into Bex’s usual middle part. “Is this not the spitting image? I don’t have the height, but I’ve got the nervous puppy eyes.” Morgan demonstrated, and not too badly, but only because she already had that face in her arsenal long before she met Bex. “But, okay, okay. I am me and you are imagining me as Bex: Hey, Eddie. What did you want to talk to me about?”

When Morgan insisted her Bex impersonation had been spot-on, Eddie immediately shook his head defiantly. “You have natural puppy dog eyes, doing that doesn’t count towards your score. Let me show you a real Bex impersonation.” He took a moment to get into character. His hands clasped in his lap, his shoulders jutted forward slightly to give the impression of timidity, and his eyes widened with brightness.

“Oh, um, hi, Morgan,” he said, altering his voice to convey Bex’s signature nervous excitement. “You said—You said you wanted to talk to me, right? I was busy studying, y’know, about anthropology—” Eddie nearly made himself break character by laughing, but quickly centered himself. “But I… I want to hear what you have to say.”

Eddie raised both hands palm-side up and leaned back with a satisfied expression on his face. “And that’s how it’s done.”

When Morgan was herself as Bex and Eddie returned to being Eddie, the seriousness of the situation crept back up on him. “What I want to talk to you about is… well, us,” he started slowly. His heart picked up speed within his chest even though he wasn’t actually talking to Bex. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about… about who I am. I haven’t been honest with myself, either, but I want to change that, starting now. Bex, I care about you very much and losing you as a friend would wreck me, but I can’t be your boyfriend anymore.” The words flowed from him with surprising ease. When he talked instead of obsessively thinking about what he wanted to say, it came naturally to him.

“I’m gay, and I need to stop hurting both of us by pretending that I’m not.”

Morgan thought carefully, trying to think of Bex’s worst case scenario and some response that wouldn’t crush Eddie’s spirit. Empathy wasn’t always her strong suit, and this had been going on for a little while… “Oh. When you say that, do you mean, did you know that you were when you asked me out? And when we kissed?”

“Yes,” Eddie responded hesitantly. He needed to be as honest as possible and not allow himself to hide behind excuses. Even if he did, he knew Morgan would call him out. “At the time, I thought it might be something I could change or, at least, conceal by being in a relationship with you. I understand if you’re upset with me, but I… I really do care about you. I never should’ve wrapped you up in my self-loathing. You deserve better than that.”

“I...can’t believe you used me like that. I think...I’m going to need a little bit of time with this. All this time, I was sort of hoping you’d be one of the few people who wasn’t lying to me,” Morgan said, choosing her words carefully. “But I don’t hate you Eddie. I could never hate you. And I don’t want to stop being your friend. Are you--gonna be okay and all?”

Eddie appreciated Morgan’s commitment to letting things play out honestly even though it stung. “I’m sorry for being so selfish. I will try my best to make it up to you in the future, if you’ll let me. Once… once you’ve had time, of course.” At the very least, Morgan elected to have her version of Bex not cut him out of her life completely. It gave him a little hope. “Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna be okay,” he said softly, slipping out of the scene as he struggled a little under the weight of it. He knew he could do this, or hoped he could anyway, but it was hard. And it would be even harder when it really happened. “How was that?” he asked Morgan, not Bex, hoping she would accept that he’d reached his limit. After the past 24 hours and all they entailed, he was starting to feel the gravity of emotional exhaustion take its toll.

fadaMorgan beamed and drew Eddie tight into her arms. “That was good. That was so, so good. And you were so brave. And I need to tell you now, I don’t think it’ll be that bad. But I did think that you might feel better if you’ve practiced the worst-case scenario with her I could think of, and know it’ll be okay. And it will be. One way or another, I know it will be okay with you and Bex. Alright?”

Eddie melted into the embrace immediately. He appreciated how well Morgan already knew to take care of him. After years spent being touch-starved, moments like this were life-savers. “I’m glad you played it that way,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.” Everything felt heavy, but he only needed to carry it a little further. “I trust you,” he said, meaning it with his entire heart. “I think I’m gonna be okay.”

#c: morgan #wickedswriting #people like us #internalized homophobia tw #domest abuse tw #// KAT AND MORGAN GIFTS #SPREAD THE WORD

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ahockeywrites · 3 years

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Chapter 2 - Edmonton, Alberta

“I cannot believe it’s our first day in Edmonton and we’re already at a hockey game,” Addison laughed. The department Addison and Simone were contracted to work at regularly attended hockey games as a group to encourage socialising outside of the workplace and had invited the girls along to meet their new colleagues.

It just so happened that one of the other girls in the department was good friends with the Oilers roster and was able to get some good seats occasionally, and this happened to be one of those nights. They had seats right next to the ice for the Senators @ Oilers match and seeing as Addison had barely paid attention to the Blues hockey lineup, she had no idea that the brother of the boy she had been ignoring for years was about to take to the ice for warm ups.

A puck hit the glass in front of Addison and she looked up to see who hit it. Standing in front of her was Brady Tkachuk. She shot him a confused look, she had no idea he even played hockey anymore let alone in the NHL. He gave her a quick smile and shouted “gimme a text, number hasn’t changed,” then he skated off.

“Wait, you know Tkachuk?” one of her new colleagues asked? This was not how Addison wanted her first day in Edmonton to go. All she wanted was an easy introduction to her new colleagues not to be bombarded with questions.

“Yeah, grew up in St Louis a few doors down from them,” Addison explained, trying to go into as little detail as possible. There was no way she could let the people she was going to be spending a lot of time with know that she used to be friends with the devil of Calgary. Her co-workers just nodded, trying to understand how she hadn’t shared this information before. To the majority of people, growing up around NHL players was the most amazing thing ever but to Addison it was the most difficult thing. She wished she didn’t block Matthew out that summer, but she knew it was best for her at that time.

The rest of the game went surprisingly well, even if Brady was on the losing end of the game. No one asked Addison anymore questions about the Tkachuk’s, which she was very thankful for but Simone had started putting the pieces together and had pretty much figured out who it was that Addison was avoiding in St Louis.

Addison did text Brady, but she waited until she had settled in to Edmonton first. Naturally, Brady had already let the entire family know who he had seen in the stands as soon as he was able to. Keith and Chantal already knew because of their closeness to Addison’s parents, Taryn was excited to know that Addison had moved and was using her degree to her advantage and Matthew said nothing. He didn’t want to believe that they now lived in the same country, let alone the same province.

Ever since that day in St Louis, Matthew had vowed never to love another woman. He couldn’t, Addison was always the only one for him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find someone else, he always had women falling over him almost anywhere he went, but none of them lived up to Addison. Instead of trying to settle down in Calgary, he had a different woman in his bed most nights to satisfy his desires.

Simone gave it a few days too before asking about the interaction at the Rogers Place. She was almost certain that the man who Addison refused to keep in contact with was the eldest Tkachuk child but she didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t want to reopen old wounds for Addison which could be especially painful. The safest space to bring up the topic was likely to be their shared apartment and she did one night with SportsNet’s NHL coverage in the background.

“Ads,” Simone started, she was unsure of how to approach the topic so decided to stay safe to begin with, “how do you actually know Brady Tkachuk?” Addison sighed, she knew this would eventually come up and was much happier that her best friend asked her rather than any of her other colleagues because it could have made the entire graduate program very awkward.

“I wasn’t lying at the rink, he did grow up a few doors down from me in St Louis,” Addison explained, “but I spent a lot of time at their house with Chantal because mom often worked late nights and dad used to, and still does, travel with the Blues for games. I’m the same age as Matt, so it just worked well.” She hoped that she hadn’t given too much away, it was the truth, just missing a lot of detail.

“But, is there anything else that I should know? You know, you’re probably gonna see the entire family next time you’re home and if I’m with you, the whole story is appreciated?” Simone tried to get as much information out as she could without hinting that she knew who Addison was refusing to mention.

“Matt was my first kiss and then I’ve ignored him ever since,” Addison said at such speed, she wasn’t even sure she took a breath between the words. It was the first time she had admitted it to anyone aside from her parents. “And I don’t think I ever stopped liking him.”

“Babe,” Simone exclaimed, “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Because he’s a professional hockey hot shot and I’m me! Plus, I was going to MIT and he really doesn’t give me vibes of someone that could do long distance,” Addison said, letting a tear fall. “I thought focussing on my studies would get rid of this silly crush, but seeing him in Calgary has just made things worse.”

Addison was shocked with herself, she had never vocalised her feelings of inadequacy when compared to Matthew before. Everything that she had just said was something she had internalised for years and the only way she knew to respond to the word vomit that had come out of her mouth was to cry. Simone came over to her and just held her. She had seen Addison like this before and knew she just needed to know that someone was there for her.

The room was silent bar the commentator for the Stars v Kings game and the two were thankful that it wasn’t a Flames game. “How about, we order some Chinese food, eat ice cream and watch some terrible movies?” Simone asked, this was how Addison solved all of the boy issues that anyone encountered at college so hoped it would help. The two spent the evening watching crappy rom coms wishing they were the main character in all of them and this was able to take Matthew off of her mind at least for a day.

Work seemed to drag along for the rest of the week and Addison let it. She was spending the majority of her time in her office, which she shared with the other graduates, and kept her head down working on a new project she had been assigned. She was designing a new ball bearing and it was the most tedious thing she had ever done. College could not have prepared her to spend 40 hours a week in front of a computer designing such an essential part of a manufactured product in such detail. All Addison wanted was to finish the design and go out to the bars because it was a Friday night and she needed a beer. Eventually, Simone and Addison were able to head home and get ready for a little night out in Edmonton.

It took a few hours for them to get showered, changed and eat something because they knew that drinking on an empty stomach was a bad idea. Addison chose to pair a deep green bodysuit with black jeans and heeled boots whilst Simone chose a flowery jumpsuit with small heels. They both knew they looked good and that gave them the confidence to head out with a smile. The Uber they had called arrived and they quickly threw back a vodka shot each. The night was cold but the bars calling their names were warm as hell.

The number of bars showing Calgary games was low, but apparently not zero because the first one they arrived at showed the Flames thrashing the Bruins and as soon as Addison looked up at the screen, she saw the baby blue eyed, curly haired boy she had been trying to ignore the life of for years.

“He’s everywhere,” Addison complained, “even in a city that supposedly hates him. I can’t seem to get away from him.” Simone shot her a look of sympathy, knowing that everything Addison had done was protect herself from getting hurt by a boy who meant so much to her. “I just want drinks.” And drinks Addison did get.

5 shots and two beers in two hours at the first bar took her to a state she rarely reached, very drunk. Seeing Matthew on tv had done it for her, he was living his life to the best so she was going to do the exact same, even if she was working 9-5, 5 days a week. Simone knew better than to let Addison go anywhere alone and made sure that she had drunk water and got home safely. However, Simone didn’t expect to wake up only an hour after falling asleep to hear Addison talking to someone on the phone.

“BRAAADDDYYYYYYYY!!!!” Addison shouted down the phone with a giggle.

“Heya Addie,” Brady replied, trying to control himself and not laugh too much but it was too hard. Here, well in Edmonton, in front of him was the exact opposite of the girl he had grown up with. Normally Addison was well kept and smartly dressed, today he saw her in a massive Blues t-shirt and hair forming a birds nest. “Has someone been drinking?” he asked playfully.

“Yeaaaaaaaaaa, I saw Matty on tv and decided I didn’t want him being the only one having fun tonight,” she said, trying not to hiccup. The alcohol she had consumed had kicked in suddenly and she had no idea what to do. As Brady was the most recent person she had texted, somehow she had called him.

“You saw a flames game in Edmonton? They must really hate their own team eh?” He laughed.

“I did! I think it’s because they’re coming for a game here next week, ooohhhh, maybe I’ll see Matty, I miss Matty, I was silly,” Addison explained, even if the drinks had gone to her head, she was trying to form coherent sentences.

“Hey, Addie, I know Matt misses you too. But, the best thing you can do is head to bed and get some sleep. It’s gotta be like 5am in Alberta, so go to bed, yeah?” Brady was really trying to help the girl, no matter what happened between Addison and Matthew, Brady didn’t want to lose the potential of a friendship with her again.

“Okaay Brady,” Addison yawned, “I’ve made it to bed, it’s sooooo soft, like Matty’s hair.” Addison couldn’t help but smile as she thought back to the time they had kissed, it was one of the happiest moments of her life along with graduating college.

“I’ll text you when you wake up,” Brady said, “now sleep Addie.” She had fallen asleep before he had even finished speaking and the sound of her softly breathing was the only thing that either Brady or Simone could hear.

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#ahockeywrites #the girl next door #Matthew Tkachuk #flames19 #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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entity9silvergen · 3 years

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Thought That Cupid Shot Me With Love But It Was Only An Aro (Naruto Fanfiction)

Summary: Soulmates were supposed to be the other half of your soul. Your one true love. Ino always dreamed of finding her soulmate. Sai never wanted one. Still, they cared for each other so they were going to make it work. Somehow.

Relationships: Sai & Ino, Sai/ Ino, Sai & Team Kakashi, Sai & Team Asuma, Sai & Shin, Referenced Naruto/ Hinata, Referenced Sasuke/ Sakura, Referenced Kakashi/ Guy, Referenced Shikamaru/ Temari, Referenced Choji/ Karui

Characters: Sai, Ino Yamanaka, Shikamaru Nara, Choji Akimichi, Shin, Kakashi

Warnings: Minor aphobia

Other: AroWriMo 2021, Soulmate AU, Aroace Sai, Aro/ Allo Relationship, Oneshot, Aromantic Writer, Queer Themes, QPRs

Word Count: 10K

Author’s Note: This story was written for Aromantic Writing Month 2021! I’ve been wanting to write an aromantic Soulmate AU for awhile and decided to finally write it when I realized Aro Writing Month was approaching. Prompt for week 1 was Romo/ Loveless & Future which kind of aligns with this fic.

The title comes from the song Not In Love by Natalia Kills.

This is my first time writing a soulmate AU and also my first time writing an aromantic character. I’d just like to say I don’t really like the idea of aromantic/ alloromantic soulmates because it implies they both have to compromise in some way but I’ve always wanted to see how that kind of relationship would be navigated so here we are.

Some characters are mildly aphobic but there’s nothing hateful or extreme. It’s mostly just people not understanding.

Also this fic skips around through time a bit and begins before Sai gets his name in canon but I am just going to call him Sai because it’s kind of awkward to avoid using it. A few minor deviations from canon are taken just for convenience.

___________

As long as Ino could remember, she’d had a massive, stark white tiger with jet black stripes wrapped around her arm.

She didn’t really question it’s presence. Everyone had marks on their bodies as far as she knew. Once she was old enough to really recognize what it was, however, she did find it a bit odd. Compared to the bright red bush clover on her mother’s upper arm and the aquamarine instrument on her father’s leg, a black and white tiger seemed strange. She tried asking about it but no one seemed to understand her confusion. They just saw it was any other soulmark with nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until she was a couple years into her training at the Academy that she really understood what the tiger on her skin meant.

She’d been sitting on the grassy hill where her Kunoichi classes were held with her friend Sakura. It was early spring and tiny flowers were beginning to sprout out of the ground. Idly, Ino plucked them out of the earth and slowly began tying their stems into a chain. What for, she did not know. She just needed something to occupy herself until the teacher arrived. She was running a bit late and once she arrived, Ino understood why.

“Hello class!” the teacher called once she reached the top of the hill, dropping a bag of books at her feet. They hit the grass with a loud thump. The bag was a lot heavier than it looked, no wonder it had slowed her down. “Sorry for the delay!”

“What are those books for?” Sakura called out, voicing the rest of the girl’s thoughts.

“Oh these?” the teacher said, picking up one of the books. “We’re going to use these books to help with the lesson. Today we’re going to talk about soulmarks.”

Soulmark. The word struck a chord in Ino’s mind. It sounded familiar yet she didn’t have the slightest idea what it meant. She sensed it was important though. Intrigued, she rested her arms on her knees and leaned forward a bit. She didn’t say anything, positive Sakura and all her newly discovered chattiness would do it for her. “What’s a soulmark?”

The teacher’s eyes glowed in a way Ino had never seen before as she sat down and threw herself into her explanation. “You see those designs on your bodies?”

Ino looked down at the tiger on her arm and felt a flash of excitement. Was she finally going to learn the meaning behind it?

“Those are soulmarks. You see, the universe is very wise and knows who we are destined to fall in love with,” the teacher told them, smiling at the wondrous expressions appearing on the girls’ faces. Ino tried to wipe the look off her own features but she couldn’t help it. This was nothing like flower arranging at all. That was fun but this was important. “That’s why we’re born with these marks. They give us hints about what our soulmates are like and tell us how to find them.”

A few girls squealed and made soft noises expressing their delight but Ino remained quiet, eyes wide as she ran her fingertips over the tiger’s curved stripes. She’d done so countless times before but now it felt different. Almost humbling. This mark told her who she was meant to fall in love with? That was amazing. Almost unbelievable.

“I read a story book about soulmates once,” declared a girl Ino couldn’t remember the name of. “It said soulmates are each other’s one true love and we’re all meant to find each other some day. Some people have to travel really far to find their soulmate!”

“That’s true,” the teacher said with a nod, “but usually our soulmates aren’t too far away. I knew my soulmate since we were kids but we didn’t realize until we were much older. Sometimes we need time to develop as people before our soulmarks make sense. We need time to grow into them.”

“I heard that Hyuga girl has a ramen bowl on her somewhere,” another girl spoke up. She made an over exaggerated face of disgust. “The only person who eats ramen enough for the universe is that dumb Uzumaki kid. I’d bet anything they’re soulmates.”

“Now, Yaka,” the teacher chided, “it’s not nice to make assumptions about other people’s soulmates, let alone talk about their soulmarks behind their backs. Soulmarks are a private thing.”

Ino noticed the teacher didn’t scold Yaka for the way she was talking about Naruto and Hinata. She didn’t know what that was about but she didn’t really like it. She didn’t have the faintest idea who her soulmate was but she hoped no one made fun of him for her soulmark, whatever it was. As troubling as her mark was, she loved it and knew she would one day love her soulmate as much as the tiger on her arm. And he was supposed to love her just as much, right? They were destined to be together after all. Each other’s true love.

“I hope mine is Sasuke,” Sakura sighed dreamily, clutching her hands together.

Ino snapped out of her romantic daydreams and blew air out through her mouth, making her blond bangs move out of her face, as she rolled her eyes. “We’re too young to really know, Sakura. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Color is the best indicator to go off of,” the teacher told them, eyes drifting to the mark on Sakura’s hand. “Red isn’t an uncommon color in the soulmarks of the Uchiha.”

Ino’s mouth twisted in annoyance. Their teacher was indulging her? Really? At least Sakura seemed happy about it. And Ino would be lying if she said she didn’t think Sakura’s mark may one day fit their classmate. The scarlet feather of a hawk covered the back of her hand, the middle bleeding into a pale purple that stretched the shaft into a long snake trailing up her arm. It was a pretty cool soulmark, Ino had to admit. Two animals in one mark? And so colorful. Maybe that meant Sakura’s soulmate had a lot of character to him. Or that he really liked animals. Did Sasuke like animals? But like the others, it made her uneasy about her own.

“What if your soulmark doesn’t have any colors?” Ino asked, raising her hand. When the teacher’s eyes flickered to her arm, Ino put her arm down and covered her mark with her hand. She tried her best not to look down in shame to no avail then immediately hated herself for it. Then she decided she hated her teacher for the look she was giving her. How dare she make Ino feel ashamed of her soulmark and, by extension, her soulmate?

The teacher’s judgemental look vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a cheery facade, and she handed Ino the book she was holding. “That’s a good question! Everyone, take a book and try to find any characteristics that might match your soulmark. You might be able to learn something about your soulmate!”

Ino wasn’t oblivious to the fact her question was ignored but Sakura was tugging at the book in her hands, excited to see what it’s contents could tell her. Ino shook her negativity away and laughed, scolding her friend into settling down and sharing the book.

They spent the whole afternoon flipping through the pages, gazing at the beautiful soulmarks within, and Ino found nothing about colorless soulmarks. Like many things regarding her soulmate, she didn’t know what to think of that.

___________

Sai thought he was markless until he was eight.

He knew what soulmarks were, of course. They were impossible to miss, especially since he lived in such close quarters with everyone he trained with. He’d just never seen one on his own body so he just figured he didn’t have one. And he was pretty okay with that.

This batch of ROOT recruits were being trained in a Hidden Mist style so they spent a fair amount of time on the water. The instructor had begun teaching the Water Natured recruits how to use Water Style: Liquid Bullets recently so today that part of the group was polishing their jutsu while the rest of the recruits practiced dodging on a moving surface of water. It was a good exercise for everyone.

The only problem was all the Water Style users kept nailing Sai with their jutsu.

Normally Sai wouldn’t mind. He was a fast ninja and he was pretty good at dodging. The only problem was that there were so many and a few were bound to hit now and again. It was just that it was more than a few. And he seemed to be the only one getting hit. It was enough that the instructor asked him to get off the water and practice his Earth Style on his own until they were done.

“Maybe we can ask the instructor if you can wear a shirt next time,” Shin said casually once the session was over and the group was heading back to base. “I mean, it’ll get all wet if you fall in but it’s better than getting hit with Liquid Bullets the whole time.”

“What?” Sai peered at his brother, confused. “Why would wearing a shirt change anything?”

“Um, because of your soulmark?”

“I have a soulmark?”

Shin’s hands dropped from their place folded behind his head as he came to a stop to gape at his brother. “You didn’t know you have a soulmark?”

“No. Should I have?”

“Yes!” Shin exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Soulmarks are important! They tell you who you’re going to fall in love with and- wait. If you didn’t know you had a soulmark, why did you think everyone kept shooting you with their jutsu?”

“I thought maybe it was some kind of strategy to pick off a weak link.”

“You’re not a weak link!” Shin exclaimed, louder this time. Sai didn’t really understand what he was getting upset over but he hoped he’d get over it soon. The instructors didn’t really like it when the students got worked up like this. “Your soulmark just makes a giant target on your back. It’s easy to aim for so everyone goes for it.”

“Oh.” That made sense, he supposed. “What is it? My soulmark, I mean.”

“It’s a flower. I don’t know what kind.”

“What does it mean to have a flower soulmark?”

Shin shrugged. “I have no idea. I think I heard flowers are kind of rare since all girls like flowers. Hey, maybe that means your soulmate is a boy. The universe might think boys liking flowers is weird enough to make it soulmark-worthy.”

“I don’t think it’s weird for boys to like flowers.”

“So you think your soulmate is a boy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really care.”

“Come on,” Shin whined. “You’ve got to care a little bit!”

“Not really. I’ve never wanted a soulmate.”

“Really?” Shin sounded surprised, far more surprised than Sai thought he would. “Well, maybe that’s just because you didn’t think you had one. Maybe now it’ll change.”

Sai didn’t think so but he didn’t tell Shin. He didn’t think he’d understand.

________

Ino was nine when she felt a blinding pain shooting up from her soulmark.

It wasn’t sudden. In fact, it was very slow. A gentle static that turned into overwhelming agony. Ino had felt emotions through the soulbond before, however rare, but never to this degree. The initial surprise was faint, easily mistakable for her own feelings, but the adrenaline and fear that followed most certainly were not.

Iruka seemed to notice something was wrong because by the time the first wave of crippling despair hit, he’d already yelled for a student to take charge of the class and had ushered her out into the hallway. She was dimly aware of what was happening around her through it all. If she’d been more clear headed, she would’ve worried more about keeping it together in the presence of her classmates but right now she could only think about the hurt, fear, and grief rippling through her.

Her soulmark burned, sending bolts of emotion up her body, welling her throat shut and tightening her chest with raw, unfiltered emotion. It was like water boiling up in a kettle that exploded into a scalding ocean instead of steam. Like someone had injected lightning into her body and let it fry her heart. Like being surrounded by a heavy cloud of darkness that sucked any light out of her.

Never before had she felt such a thing and she didn’t know how to handle it. She didn’t understand where it was coming from or why this was happening to her. But then it just… stopped. Like nothing had happened.

She regained control of her breath as the sharp grip around her receded. She felt the sobs die in her throat and clean oxygen fill her lungs once again. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been crying until now. Tears stained her face and Iruka’s shoulder but there were fewer than before. It was now that she realized she had collapsed on the ground in the hallway, body pressed against the rough wood floor. The realization didn’t make her want to get up any more though. She could lie here for the rest of her life for all she cared. She kind of wanted to. Lying here in this sleepy, numb fog that clouded her mind sounded like a good idea.

“Are you alright?” Iruka asked, her sensei’s worried tone drawing her back to reality.

“What happened?” Ino groaned, sitting up to meet his gaze. The concern was evident on his face but he looked relieved to see that she was okay. She felt a prickle of guilt knowing she was responsible for his worry. What was that anyway? It just came out of nowhere then left just as fast. Absently, her hand drifted to her soulmark. Any echo of its earlier noise was long gone. It was as silent as the dead of night. “I feel…”

“I think something happened to your soulmate,” Iruka told her softly, helping her sit up against the wall. He shifted a bit so he sat across from her. For that, Ino was grateful. She didn’t think she could handle getting up right now.

“My soulmate?”

“You’ve felt things through your soulbond before, right?” Iruka asked. Ino nodded as she wiped her face free of any stray tears. “Well, sometimes when our soulmates are in a lot of pain or distress, we can feel it through the soulbond.”

“How come?” Ino asked, genuinely curious. The pain she felt was probably nothing compared to what he was feeling so she could stomach a bit of it for her soulmate’s sake but she didn’t understand why the universe would place that upon her or anyone else. That just seemed cruel.

“Well…” Iruka trailed off for a moment, hesitating, before the words came to him. “Soulmates are a big part of our lives. They’re the other half of our soul. Our bond doesn’t begin when we meet. We usually love our partners a long time before we meet them.”

Ino nodded, following along so far. Sure, she didn’t know a thing about her soulmate, save what her soulmark told her, but he had a special place in her heart that only grew with each spark she felt through the bond. He was one of the most important things to her in the whole world. It felt kind of strange to call it love but any other word felt short of capturing what she felt. He was essentially a stranger yet, at the same time, he was the furthest thing from it.

“Soulmates support each other throughout their whole lives,” Iruka explained. “When our soulmates feel pain, we can comfort them through our soulbonds.”

“How?” Ino asked, leaning forward a bit. She desperately wanted to. The hopelessness and agony that had rooted itself in her chest had faded but if her soulmate was still feeling anything close to it…

“Just think about how much you love them,” Iruka told her with a lopsided smile, “and how much you want to be there for him. Try to focus those feelings through your soulbond.”

Ino nodded and tried her hardest to do as her sensei instructed her. But how could she express feelings for someone she’d never met? She could imagine her soulmate and the future they’d have together but that wasn’t real. It was all in her head and all she had to go off of inspiration-wise were stories and dreams. She was still young enough to indulge in the occasional fantasy or day dream but she was also a ninja. Ninja were realists and realistically, she knew nothing about what he was like and she didn’t have a real reason to love him the way she did.

But that didn’t mean the love she had wasn’t real. It was ingrained deep into her being, as deep as the bond tying her to her partner. It was a love that made warmth hum in her chest and the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile at the mere thought of it. Love so powerful she couldn’t put it into words. She just didn’t have the vocabulary and she didn’t think the right words even existed.

It didn’t make sense but it was real. The universe, spirits, god, sages, whatever was up there- It had made a decision and it was a good one. There was no reason to believe it but Ino knew it like a universal truth. He was destined for her and she was more than happy to be destined for him. Ino loved her other half however little sense it made. She’d always wanted him to know that and maybe now she could tell him through the soulbond if she tried hard enough.

She didn’t know what he was feeling. She didn’t know what he could possibly be experiencing that would make him feel this way. She just hoped that maybe she could help, even if it was just a little bit.

“How will I know if he can feel it?” Ino asked after a while. She felt a lot better. Her breath had regulated, the dampness in her eyes had dried, and her body felt a lot less heavy than it had when she sat down.

“There’s not really any way to tell immediately,” Iruka told her, getting to his knees before standing up. He offered Ino a hand to pull her up. She accepted it and began following him back to the classroom. “Your soulmate is probably going through a lot right now and he might not know how to respond or feel ready to. But, I’ve heard that soulmates sometimes send their thanks a few weeks after something big happens and feelings start passing through the bond a bit more easily. I’m sure he’ll be sending you some happiness in no time.”

Iruka’s words were a comfort and Ino momentarily forgot her worries and skipped back to class. But weeks later when Iruka asked her if she and her soulmate were doing better, Ino couldn’t answer. There wasn’t a hint of emotion coming through the bond anymore.

_________

It was over seven years since Shin died before Sai was shirtless around anyone again.

It wasn’t really something he’d thought about. Who thought about that kind of thing? He had plenty of other things to think about. His missions, crossing faces out of his bingo books, his art… Being shirtless was such an insignificant thing in his life that he never spared it a second thought. His training had ended with his brother’s death and there wasn’t really a need for him to change clothes or go swimming with someone. And without Shin or anyone else looking at his back, he’d almost forgotten his soulmark. There were a few flashes of feeling through the bond now and again but Sai was usually too dull to notice and he usually dismissed them without question. The existence of his soulmark didn’t affect his life in the slightest.

Imagine his confusion when Naruto wouldn’t stop staring at him after Captain Yamato dumped the two of them in a hot spring together.

“Why do you keep looking at me, dickless?” Sai asked, smiling at how Naruto’s face soured at the nickname. He’d done well choosing it. “I was under the impression you were tired of being around me.”

“I am!” Naruto snapped indignantly. He crossed his arms and was silent for a moment. When Sai didn’t say anything, he caved and explained himself. “I… I was looking for your soulmark. Do you have one?”

Sai paused for a moment before nodding. “I do.”

Naruto’s gaze softened a bit and the hostility drained off his face. “It’s on your back, isn’t it? I didn’t see anything before you got in the water.”

“Why do you care?”

“I didn’t really think about it until you came in here and I didn’t see anything on you so I thought you might be markless. It’s… I dunno, it’s harder to stay mad at you knowing you’ve got a soulmate.”

“Why?

Naruto shrugged casually. “Knowing you love someone just makes you feel more human.”

If Sai were an expressive man, he would’ve made a face. One of anger or horror, he didn’t know. Angry Sai would’ve splashed Naruto in the face with a handful of water. Horrified Sai would’ve come up with a bad excuse and hurried out of the hot spring. But Sai wasn’t an expressive man so instead, he shut his mouth and sank into the water, trying not to think about the implication of his new teammate’s words. ___________

Ino met Sai at The Barbeque Place.

The Barbeque Place wasn’t actually called The Barbeque Place. They just called it that enough that it deserved to be called The Barbeque Place with the capitalization of the title and everything. It was actually called Yakiniku Q but no one cared. Team Asuma would convince everyone it was called The Barbeque Place until the owner changed the sign or they’d die trying.

Going to The Barbeque Place was the only way to properly celebrate anything Team Asuma style. Ino, Choji, and Shikamaru had only seen Naruto a couple of times since he returned to the village so when they saw him coming back from a mission, they knew they had to grab him then or they’d never get the chance to drag him to the restaurant and welcome their friend home.

The fact they had a new teammate with them was an added bonus.

Sai seemed nice. Kind of strange though. Ino didn’t know if it was just odd having someone new on Team 7 after so long or if it was just Sai’s general personality. She supposed she liked him but if it was anyone less good looking, Ino would definitely be upset Sasuke was getting replaced.

“So you’re ANBU, right?” Shikamaru asked the newcomer when the uncooked food had arrived and the early stages of conversation were over.

“How could you tell?”

“The uniform was a bit of a giveaway.”

“Noted.”

“ANBU?” Choji echoed, looking intrigued. His brief pause was long enough for Ino to take the opportunity to swipe a couple pieces of meat off the grill and shovel them onto Sai’s plate. Apparently pausing did not mean he was distracted though. “Ino!”

“Be nice! You don’t want to scare him off with your gross manners this early, do you?”

“I guess not…” Choji mumbled sullenly. His demeanor changed again in a heartbeat when a piece of perfectly cooked meat caught his eye. He plucked it up with his chopsticks and plopped it into his mouth, chewing the slices of beef happily, anger forgotten.

Shikamaru, always the sharp one, picked up where Choji left off before his distraction. “So what’s that like? ANBU, I mean.”

Sai smiled passively. “I don’t think it’s too different from what shinobi teams do, just more isolated and the training is more rigorous.”

“Really?” Sakura said, half distracted by trying to nab a piece of meat before Choji got his chopsticks on it. “I don’t know a lot about ANBU, even working so close with Lady Tsunade, but I’ve heard some bad rumors over the years.”

“Eh? Really? But Kakashi-sensei always seems happy wherever he talks about it,” Naruto replied. He swiped a piece of meat off Sai’s plate and popped it into his mouth before anyone could say anything. Ino would’ve scolded him but Sai didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed amused. It was hard believing someone as soft-spoken and gentle as Sai was a member of ANBU.

“Kakashi-sensei is Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura responded, brushing him off. “He doesn’t tell us anything and you never know if he’s actually happy or if he just hit a juicy part of those pervy books he’s always reading.”

“Eh, good point,” Naruto conceded through a full mouth, “but now we have Sai here to tell us stuff! I bet he’s a lot easier to talk to than Kakashi-sensei.”

Sai’s face remained passive but Choji and even Shikamaru seemed interested. Noticing, Sai sighed and gave in. “What do you want to know?”

“So you said ANBU was really lonely, right?” Shikamaru said, casually taking a piece of meat. Unsurprisingly, Choji let him and didn’t protest. “What about soulmates?”

“What about them?”

“I’ve heard they don’t let people search for their soulmates,” Sakura spoke up as she put a few vegetables on the grill. “They just have to live knowing their soulmate is out there wondering where they are and why they haven’t found them yet.”

“Well I heard they don’t let ANBU have soulmates at all,” Choji said, trying to wave Sakura’s chopsticks away from the grill. “Like they burn them off or make them stay covered all the time and that kind of thing.”

“I can confirm that isn’t true,” Sai said with a smile, sounding humored. “A lot of people have soulmates. Some of the best two-man teams and small units are made of soulmates, actually. We’re just not allowed to search outside of ANBU. My instructors always said it compromises our security.”

“That’s too bad,” Naruto commented and poked Sakura’s hand with his chopsticks. She yelped and pulled her hand away, allowing Choji to successfully steer the vegetables away from the grill and put down another couple pieces of beef. “But now that you’re out of ANBU, you can look for your soulmate, right?”

Sai said nothing and shrugged half-heartedly.

“You do want to find your soulmate, right?” Ino asked, putting down her chopsticks to look at him instead of swooping in to aid Sakura. Choji really had to eat his greens. Naruto too but it wasn’t every day her friends got a new teammate. Right now he was a bit more interesting than a poking war.

This time, Sai had a clear answer to the question. “Not particularly.”

“How?!” Ino’s plate clattered on the table slightly. She put a hand on it to stop it from falling but she could feel herself getting even more worked up. She sensed her friends giving her confused looks at her outburst. She tried her best to ignore them. “Your soulmate- Your soulmate is the other half of your soul! Without them, you’re incomplete. How could you not want to find them?”

Again, Sai shrugged.

“I’ve just never been interested in having a romantic relationship. Or any kind of relationship,” Sai said neutrally. He smiled and this time it was kind of infuriating instead of cute. “If it happens, it happens but I don’t particularly want to seek it out.”

“Isn’t it your destiny though?” Ino pressed. “To find your true love?”

“I thought you’d given up on that stuff,” Choji commented idly as he placed some new pieces of meat on the grill, “since you haven’t felt anything through your soulbond in years.”

Something inside Ino snapped. “Well, you’re just as far behind as me, fatso!”

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best move but getting the restaurant destroyed by Choji’s Human Boulder was worth it to escape that conversation. _________

It was well after the war had ended by the time the village’s Intelligence Division summoned Sai to lock up the members of the Seven Swordsmen that he’d sealed.

The village was recovering well but the months after the end of the war had been chaotic. There were far too many things more important to worry about than who’d sealed their enemies and where their bodies were so Fuguki Suikazan and Jinin Akebino’s scrolls just ended up sitting in Sai’s apartment. It was only when someone from the Third Division was retelling the war story that everyone remembered they hadn’t given the sealed bodies to the Intelligence Division. Sai hadn’t really thought it was important but apparently it was important enough for the Hokage to send Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji running to his apartment in the middle of the day to retrieve them.

“I can’t believe you had these things just lying around for a whole year. What a drag…” Shikamaru complained as the shinobi carried the two scrolls through the front doors of the Analysis Division’s building. Between the four of them, it was a bit awkward but they were managing. Sai was surprised he and Lee had been able to carry these things around on the battlefield. Right now, they seemed so heavy. “I wish I’d known Intel involved so much running around before I joined…”

“Aw, you like it,” Choji said cheerfully. It went unsaid that Ino and Shikamaru were working in the Intelligence Division because there was no one else to fill their fathers’ shoes but Sai heard it in his voice. “And all this running around gives us the chance to see our friends more often!”

“You don’t even work here. You can see our friends whenever you want!” Ino groaned as they began heading into the underground storage unit. “Slow down guys, I don’t really want to fall down the stairs in front of all these Jonin. But he’s right, Sai. It’s nice seeing you. It feels like it’s been forever.”

Sai hummed in agreement and tried his best to convey the joy he got from seeing his friends again. After seeing Shin again and mastering the Crouched Tiger Bullet, it came a lot easier to him but years of underusing his facial expressions made it less than natural. “Indeed. Where are we putting these?”

Everyone looked to Shikamaru. The boy didn’t seem fazed. “These guys are dead, right? We should transfer them to body scrolls. Easier for the Analysis Team to… analyze them or whatever whenever they decide to. You know how to use that kind of sealing, right Sai?”

Sai nodded as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. “I do.”

“Great,” Shikamaru grunted as the group reached the bottom of the stairs and dropped the heavy scrolls on the concrete floor. “Ugh, do they really need to be this big?”

“It’s a difficult sealing jutsu. It requires a lot of ink.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s start unrolling this thing. Sai, there are some body scrolls over by the storage unit. Go grab whatever one you think will work best.”

Sai nodded and did as he was told, drifting off to the edges of the basement in search of the right tools. He wasn’t terribly experienced in any kind of sealing jutsu other than his own and he took his time finding a compatible scroll but after a couple minutes, he realized Team Asuma’s usual bickering had died down and the three had fallen into an unusual silence. Concerned, he stuck his head out of the storage area to check on them. “Are you alright?”

“Sai… Come here please,” Ino said in an unusual tone. Sai frowned. Her pale green eyes were fixed on something on the ground. Was something wrong with his seal? Had one of the Swordsmen somehow escaped? They were dead so it wouldn’t be the end of the world but it would be kind of a hassle to track down the body.

He stepped into the entry area and saw nothing out of the ordinary. One of the scrolls, Fuguki’s scroll, was unraveled, exposing the seal work and the swordsman's trapped form. Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji were just… staring at it? Sai couldn’t fathom why. Maybe they thought this method of sealing was immoral? It really wasn’t different from any other kind of sealing. Was the sight of the body on the page unsettling them?

“Sai, what is this?” Choji said in an uncharacteristically empty voice.

Sai took a few steps to join them beside the scroll. He peered at it, trying to see anything that was out of place or didn’t belong. Fuguki was still there, held in by his sealing tiger’s sharp claws. Was his sword in there? No, no it wasn’t. They’d returned the Seven Swords to the Hidden Cloud a while ago. He remembered because that was when Choji had realized he and that girl Karui were soulmates. It’d been a whole thing. “I don’t see anything wrong.”

Ino held up her marked arm and Sai suddenly realized what was happening here.

“...Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! That’s all you have to say?” Shikamaru practically shouted, taking an angry step toward him. “Ino- she- You saw her soulmark the day you met us. Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know how long she- Are you really that heartless?”

Sai flinched at his words. He didn’t mean to but he couldn’t help it. Regaining some level of emotion also meant losing some of his composure. He hoped the others hadn’t noticed but he wasn’t the hopeful type. “I…”

Choji put a hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder. He looked just as upset as his friend but Choji was too gentle and kind-hearted to take out his anger on anyone. And for that, Sai was eternally grateful. “Shikamaru, maybe we should go. Shouldn’t this kind of thing be between soulmates?”

Shikamaru looked like he wanted to argue but he shook himself and took a deep breath to calm down. Sai knew Shikamaru could get scary when he wanted to and hurting his friend definitely put Sai in danger of becoming a victim of his intellect. Thank the sages for Choji or Sai was fairly certain he’d have a Shadow Stitch aimed at his head right now.

“Just… Just talk to her, man,” Shikamaru sighed tiredly, sounding several times his age, and turned to head back up the stairs, Choji trailing behind him. Sai half expected him to turn around to give him some kind of warning or threat not to mess this up and hurt his teammate but he didn’t. He just kept walking until it was just him and Ino. Alone. In a basement. With a dead rogue-ninja and a tiger staring at them. Not really the best setting for a heart to heart.

The two didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just pale green eyes boring into inky black. What was there to say? What was someone supposed to say when they found their soulmate? What if it should have been obvious they were soulmates from the start and one hadn’t said anything? What was someone who never wanted a soulmate supposed to do when his soulmate so clearly longed for one? Sai had so many questions and the answers to none.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ino asked, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t know.”

“Don’t give me that.”

It was true, in a sense. He really didn’t know. Sai had recognized the tiger when he saw it for the first time but only in the back of his mind. He was far from a master of emotions and farther from a master of his jutsu. Was the jutsu really even his then? It didn’t feel like it so maybe he didn’t recognize the mark on Ino’s arm as his own.

Still, it was his art style. He’d recognized it immediately and always would. His art was such a big part of him and he didn’t dream of denying it so that couldn’t have been it. And it couldn’t be his lack of emotions because he wasn’t really lacking them, they were just suppressed. As guilty as it made him feel, it was very possible the truth was just that he didn’t want a soulmate. That he didn’t want to know what the universe had planned for him when it came to love.

“It just never occurred to me.”

Sai wasn’t lying but Ino didn’t seem to believe him. No one ever believed him. Not when it came to soulmates. But he wanted Ino to understand so he tried again.

“Remember when we met? When I said I didn’t want to look for my soulmate?”

Ino snorted and put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t need to look. She was right in front of you.”

Okay, he walked right into that one. “I wasn’t thinking about that. I would’ve said that to anyone.”

“Why?” Ino asked, her voice cracking. Sai noticed for the first time that her eyes were glossy. He felt… something. He couldn’t quite identify what it was yet but he knew it was a bad feeling. He couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry though. “I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate, even before I really understood what my mark meant. I can’t imagine not wanting to find the one person who’s meant to love you unconditionally.”

That made Sai hesitate. He’d never heard it phrased that way particularly. It was making him doubt himself. Why had she said that? She didn’t know how much Sai struggled when it came to maintaining friendships or how lonely he’d been all those years after Shin died. She had no idea how rocky his relationship with love was or how much he craved it. She couldn’t fathom how much it pained him knowing it was always out of reach. Or maybe she could, with the soulbond and all. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad I met you and if I have to have a soulmate, I’m glad it’s you.”

“If you have to have one? What, do you wish you didn’t have one?”

“Sometimes.” Ino’s face dropped but Sai recovered quickly. “I think soulmates are wonderful but I’ve just felt like they’re for me, I suppose.”

“Are you one of those people who believe we should shape our own destiny?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Ino laughed a bit and it sounded fond rather than angry. It gave Sai a spike of confidence. He smiled bashfully.

“My apologies. I’m not very… articulate when it comes to how I feel. I’ve really only reconnected with my emotions since the war ended,” Sai admitted. Ino opened her mouth but Sai stopped her before she could say what he knew she was going to say. “And my emotional struggles have nothing to do with how I feel about having a soulmate. I think. I remember talking about it with my brother before…”

Something flashed in Ino’s eyes. “Your brother died when you were ten?”

Sai nodded. “You felt it through the soulbond?”

“And nothing after it,” Ino replied with a nod, “until the war. Probably when you saw him again.”

Sai looked down. “...I cried. I hadn’t cried since he died the first time.”

Ino made a sympathetic noise. Sai wasn’t really sure if it made him feel comforted or patronized. Ino seemed to sense he didn’t want to talk about it and that was probably for the better. “So you’ve talked about it with him? How you feel about soulmates?”

“Having a soulmate,” Sai corrected. How he felt about soulmates versus how he felt about having a soulmate were very different. “And yes. I didn’t know I had a soulmark until he told me. But… He never really understood. He was a romantic. I don’t think he really knew that some people just weren’t like that.”

“Like what?”

Sai’s face furrowed with frustration as he tried to find words. “I… I know love. I love my brother. I love Naruto. And Sakura. And maybe Sasuke. I love Kakashi-senpai and Captain Yamato. I love my art and my books. And I love… you. And I know what I feel is real. I think I’ve always felt it, even when I thought I didn’t have emotions and before I knew you were my soulmate. I like being with you but I don’t love you like Shikamaru loves Temari or like Sakura loves Sasuke. Is that okay?”

Sai hadn’t realized he was looking down until Ino took his hands, startling him into looking up at her. She looked a bit sad but not disappointed or angry. She offered him a gentle smile. “Yeah, it’s definitely okay, Sai. I mean, this isn’t really what I expected meeting my soulmate to be like but I’m glad it’s you. I don’t think I’ll mind missing out on some romantic fantasy if it means I get to be with you. If that’s what you want.”

Slowly, Sai nodded and curled his fingers around hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you a romantic fantasy but I hope I can still make you happy. I want to see where this goes.”

_______________

Two years passed and Ino knew she and Sai weren’t really in a relationship.

They did couples things sometimes. They went out together fairly regularly. They ate at nice restaurants and went on quiet walks through the village. Sai sometimes slept over at her house and she sometimes slept at his apartment. Sai went with her to Naruto and Hinata’s wedding. And Shikamaru and Temari’s wedding. And Sasuke and Sakura’s. And Choji and Karui’s... There was a shocking number of weddings recently.

It was never romantic though. Their “dates” often had a few tag-alongs or didn’t seem all that different from what friends normally did. Sleeping together was never anything more than sleeping. She could count the number of times they’d just shared the bed on one hand. And they never slow danced at the weddings. Their friends didn’t even acknowledge they were together. Maybe they didn’t know. Or maybe they did and just thought they were just having fun with each other until they met their real soulmates. That was a depressing thought.

Ino tried not to let it bother her. She really liked Sai, that never changed, and she enjoyed all the things they did together. It was fun. Maybe even more fun than it would be with someone else since there weren’t any expectations and there weren’t dozens of eyes watching everything they did. Still, part of her longed to have the future she’d always expected. She tried to ignore the part of her before it became too much to keep inside.

But as a clan head, she couldn’t ignore it forever.

She was in some Yamanaka-Nara-Akimichi Clan meeting when it came up. Normally these meetings were uneventful, just a bunch of clan elders hooting about babies and food or whatever, so Ino had been zoning out while they bickered and shuffled papers around the table. But with Shikamaru and Choji both married, she should have expected it.

“...so that brings us to the issue of heirs,” an elder said, snapping Ino’s attention back to the meeting.

All eyes in the room immediately fell on her. She sat up a bit straighter. “What?”

“The Nara Clan head and Akimichi Clan heir have already found their partners and are close to securing their clans’ futures,” the elder went on. Her name was… Ino wanted to say Chizo? Wait, no. That was an Akimichi name. Chizo was that one over there with her hand deep in a plate of cookies. This was a Yamanaka. What was her name? Ino couldn’t remember for the life of her. “The Yamanaka Clan on the other hand…”

“You think I can’t lead the clan on my own?”

Another elder made a noncomitmental noise. This one’s name was Ezume, Ino was pretty sure. Or maybe Ezuko? Either way, he was a Nara. She knew that much. By the sages, she really should know her own clan elders’ names. She’d known them all her life. How was she this bad with names? It was like she’d gotten worse over the years. “We know your capabilities, Ino, but every clan head must have a husband or wife to help shoulder the responsibilities of leading the clan and bring life to the next generation.”

Ino could practically feel Shikamaru and Choji making faces behind her. The elders were trying to be nice about it but they were basically telling them their wives only mattered to bear children for them and keep some stress off their shoulders. If the clans’ stability didn’t rely on the elders so much, Ino would’ve dragged Temari and Karui in here to speak their minds and slap some sense into them years ago.

The Yamanaka elder was speaking again. Ino wanted to say her name was Fumiko but she was pretty sure she was just thinking about her cousin Fū. They looked kind of similar. What ever happened to him? She hadn’t seen him in years. “You’ve had plenty of time to search for your soulmate. If you haven’t found him, we will choose-”

“Ino’s found her soulmate,” Shikamaru interrupted. His voice dull and bored but his eyes were sharp and telling. Ino wanted to punch him but he was out of reach and she didn’t think the elders would appreciate it much.

“Oh?” the elder, Chizo this time, said, looking interested.

“I’ve heard nothing of this,” another Yamanaka spoke up, sounding annoyed. This one was named Haneen, or at least Ino was pretty sure. Close enough. Ino would consider that a win if she wasn’t struggling to think of a response.

“Uh…”

The elders looked displeased. “Why have we heard nothing of this?”

“Um….

Ino looked to Shikamaru and Choji for help but they were already making a break for the door, the traitorous bastards. She turned back to the elders’ angry faces, swallowed away her uneasiness, and steeled herself for the inevitable discomfort that was coming her way. ___________________

Sai was coming back from a mission with Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, Kakashi and Yamato when he saw Shikamaru and Choji barreling towards him with panic on their faces.

“We didn’t do it!” Naruto yelped immediately, practically springing away from them. “Tell Granny Tsunade it was just part of the mission!”

The two skidded to a stop and Naruto was met with confusion. “What?”

“...Are you not coming from the Hokage’s office?”

“...No? We were just at a clan meeting. What were you doing?”

“Nothing!”

Sasuke shook his head and sighed while Sakura pinched her brow in exasperation. Sai and Yamato glanced at Kakashi then shared a deadpan look. Naruto really was an idiot sometimes. The Sixth Hokage was standing right next to them. Tsunade was finding out no matter what Shikamaru and Choji heard from them.

Sakura, always the most polite of the bunch, offered Shikamaru and Choji a smile. “Ignore them. Did you need us for something? Do I need to be at the hospital? Or did Kakashi-sensei lose some important paperwork again?”

“If it was really important they wouldn’t let me lose it,” Kakashi piped up lazily.

“We actually came here for Sai,” Choji spoke up. For once, he didn’t have his trusty bag of potato chips in hand. And Ino wasn’t there. That was concerning.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” Shikamaru said, looking a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. “So… I may or may not have told our clan elders that you and Ino are soulmates and they may or may not start harassing you about marrying her.”

Shikamaru spoke quickly and quietly and it took Sai a moment to realize what he was saying. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem.

“You and Ino are soulmates?!” the three screeched in unison.

“I… Yes?” Sai’s head swiveled to look at them in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

“How would we know?” Sakura asked. “Neither of you ever told us!”

“You’ve seen both our soulmarks.”

“Soulmarks are confusing!” Naruto exclaimed and Sai realized he probably should’ve known better than to expect Naruto to connect the dots. He and Hinata practically had the same soulmark, just in different colors, and it’d still taken them years to figure it out.

“We went together to your weddings.”

“I thought you two were just going as friends,” Sasuke admitted and he wasn’t exactly wrong.

That made Sai hesitate. Were they friends? Or were they dating? How was he supposed to remember where they’d been in the relationship all that time ago?

“I’ve spent so much time with just the two of you,” Sakura said. “Are you saying I was third-wheeling on your dates?”

“I mean… No?”

“Wait, Ino’s soulmark is on her arm. Did you know since you met her after our first mission? Have you been dating since then?”

“No.” That was a question Sai could answer confidently. Kind of. Oh by the sages, he really didn’t know what he and Ino were doing, was he?

Sasuke opened his mouth to continue pressing him but Kakashi put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he could begin. “You five run along. I’d like to talk to Sai alone. Yamato, make sure they don’t destroy anything. Any more than it’s already been destroyed, at least.”

“No promises,” Yamato said drily and began ushering the younger ninja away from the former ANBU. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

“I want ramen!”

“I want barbecue!”

“Ramen!”

“Barbecue!”

“That’s literally all we eat! Can’t you two pick something else?”

Sai watched the group walk away, bickering until they were out of sight, before turning his attention back to Kakashi. The man was watching him with a peculiar look in his eye that Sai didn’t understand. He waited for him to say something but Kakashi remained silent and the seconds soon stretched into minutes.

“Let’s take a walk,” Kakashi said eventually and Body Flickered onto the rooftops. Sai followed him without missing a beat.

“Why did you want to talk to me, senpai?” Sai said once it became clear Kakashi wasn’t going to say something first.

“You looked stressed when Shikamaru said the clan might suggest you and Ino getting married. It takes a lot to get a reaction out of you,” Kakashi said nonchalantly. “I just want you to know you can talk to me if you need someone.”

“I don’t know if there’s really anything to say.” That wasn’t really true but after explaining himself to Shin, and his teammates, and Ino, and Ino’s teammates, Sai had accepted he didn’t really have the vocabulary to express how he felt. But it never stopped him from trying. “I’ve never wanted romance. I like what I have with Ino but it isn’t romance. Everyone expects us to… be like every other soulmate. Be in love, get married, have kids. I’m not really opposed to marrying her but I don’t really want to. The only reason we would is for clan politics. Marriage is supposed to be this ceremony of love and I just don’t… I don’t really feel what everyone else is feeling.”

“Because of your time in ROOT?”

That question was expected but Sai tried not to let it bother him. He was not successful. “I don’t know. Maybe but I don’t think so.”

“Is it a lack of attraction?”

“What?”

That was such a strange question but Kakashi didn’t really seem to understand Sai’s confusion. “Is it a lack of attraction?”

“I don’t… I suppose she’s attractive.” Sai never really thought about her that way but he knew other people thought she was. He’d been hearing it for so long that he believed it. But were those his own feelings or just the influence of others? He remembered wanting to call her ugly when they met but he thought everyone was ugly so he’d called her gorgeous because he thought she’d like it. And he just kept doing it. He’d done it so much that it’d just stuck with him and he’d forgotten the origin of the nickname. By the sages, was every compliment he’d given her the offspring of a lie?

Surprisingly, a look of understanding spread across Kakashi’s masked features. “So you aren’t attracted to her?”

“I just said she’s attractive.”

“That isn’t the same as being attracted to her.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A few years ago, Master Jiraiya gave me this book he’d written that was rejected by his publishers,” Kakashi began and Sai didn’t really know where he was going with this. “You know he writes romances, right? Well, he got this piece of criticism that said if you’re going to write about love and relationships, you need to understand that it’s not all romantic. Or sexual. You can imagine how confused Jiraiya was.”

Sai was kind of lost but he nodded along anyway.

“So he did some research. And not the kind of research he normally does. He actually talked to anthropologists and professors from different nations, I think. He wrote a character that didn’t experience romantic or sexual attraction. She still knew love and could appreciate a pretty face but she knew she wasn’t quite experiencing what everyone else was feeling.” Kakashi paused. “The word for not experiencing romantic attraction is aromantic. The word for not experiencing sexual attraction is asexual. They’re not really common words, it took Jiraiya a long time to come across them, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t heard them…”

Kakashi trailed off and Sai’s brain tried to catch up. Sexual attraction? Romantic attraction? They were different? Romantic feelings were supposed to be connected by some kind of desire? Desire to do what? That just sounded really weird. Sai had never heard someone phrase it that way yet it made sense in the most confusing way. “So… wanting to have a romantic relationship has to do with attraction?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Beats me. I’ve never felt that way. I didn’t actually know I’m asexual or aromantic until I read the book and I saw myself in that character.”

“You’re like me?” Sai said in surprise. Almost instantly, his world felt a bit brighter. Like everything was grey and he was seeing color for the first time.

Kakashi nodded. “You know Guy’s my soulmate?”

“Really?” That was actually really shocking but both men covered themselves at pretty much all times, leaving no room for a soulmark to peak out, so there was no way Sai ever would’ve seen either of their soulmarks. Maybe there was a reason for that. Probably not. “I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are, in a way, but we’re also more than that,” Kakashi said, slowing down a bit to try to find the right words. “Guy and I tried to have a relationship when we realized we’re soulmates but it didn’t really work. Guy prefers women and I’m not even sure if he likes men like that. We haven’t talked about it in awhile. And I never really liked anyone that way. But once I heard the words aromantic and asexual, I felt whole. Like I could explain my feelings and I wasn’t missing anything. I didn’t feel broken anymore. After I told him, it was like everything started making sense.”

“Are you two still together?”

Kakashi nodded. “Things got a lot easier when we gave up… The word Jiraiya used in his notes was amatonormativity. That’s kind of like, um, the belief that romantic and sexual relationships are the peak of human experience and everyone should prioritize those kinds of relationships over everything else. You and Ino don’t have to do what our society expects you to do. You can just do whatever feels right.”

Sai nodded slowly. Ino had mentioned once that it felt freeing to not necessarily follow the traditional route of dating but they’d still always felt that pressure to act like a couple. It felt like a huge weight being lifted off his chest to hear that it was okay to do just be. And the fact someone he knew and respected thought it was normal and even encouraged it was priceless.

He opened his mouth to thank the other man but his throat suddenly swelled shut and all that came out was a choking noise. It surprised him, he’d never felt enough emotion for him to be rendered unable to speak. Kakashi looked surprised as well but his eyes soon crinkled with fondness.

“Go to her, Sai.”

Sai was already moving.

____________________

Ino wasn’t expecting to find Sai waiting at her front door when she got home from getting drilled by her elders at the clan meeting.

It looked like he’d been there for awhile. He’d taken out a piece of charcoal and began doodling on her doorstep. It was rather beautiful but she knew she’d have to hose it off sooner or later unless she wanted dusty footprints tracked through her house. He seems pretty focused on his drawing but not enough that he didn’t jump up in surprise at the sound of his soulmate approaching.

“We don’t have to get married!” he blurted out upon her arrival. The piece of charcoal fell out of his hand and cracked on the cement.

“Um, okay,” Ino said slowly. “Really weird thing to say at the beginning of a conversation, Sai, but okay…”

Sai at least had the decency to look a bit embarrassed and hurried to explain himself. “Shikamaru and Choji told you about your meeting.”

“Oh.” Ino felt the muscles in her shoulders tense up. By the sages, that meeting really had been hell. “And…?”

“Apparently my teammates didn’t know we were soulmates. Sakura might be coming here to yell at you soon, by the way,” Sai told her and it took Ino a moment to fully process what he was saying. Had they really not known? Sakura was her best friend. Ino talked to her about Sai all the time. And Naruto had seemed pretty happy when they told him they were going to his wedding together. And Sasuke had a Sharingan for crying out loud! He really should’ve noticed. Sai didn’t really seem concerned about it though. “But that’s not important. I talked with Kakashi and…”

Sai cut himself off, his excitement fading as doubt overtook him. Ino took his hands, ignoring all the charcoal dust on them, and offered an encouraging smile. “And?”

“I think… I think I’m aromantic. And asexual,” Sai told her and he smiled. It wasn’t his usual awkward smile though. He looked genuinely relieved and maybe even a little bit happy. “Apparently some people don’t have romantic feelings at all. There’s a word for it. Aromantic. I think- I think that’s me. I still care about you and I like being with you but Kakashi told me being aromantic is normal and it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me or that the universe made a mistake making us soulmates. It just means we can- We can just be us. Sai and Ino. And Sai and Ino don’t have to listen to anything anyone tells us to do. And that means we don’t have to get married. Unless you want to…?”

Ino watched Sai’s face carefully as it flashed between excitement, awkwardness, nervousness, and joy. She’d never seen him express so many feelings, let alone all together in such a short period of time. It was cute. And endearing. Especially when he stumbled over his words like this. By the sages, she loved him. And now she knew he loved her, even if it wasn’t the way she loved him. She was okay with that though. She was definitely okay with that. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Screw tradition. Forget the clan,” Ino said, breaking into a smile as she put her arms around Sai’s shoulders so she could look up into his eyes. “I like what we have. I don’t care if it’s not what I thought I’d grow up to have or if it’s not what my family wants for me. I just want to be with you and it doesn’t matter if we’re friends, lovers, neither, or something between.”

Sai’s smile grew and he just looked so happy. “We’re soulmates.”

“Yeah. That’s what we are. We’re soulmates.”

More AroWriMo Fics By Me, Posted on Ao3, Posted on FFN

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 22

Previous: The Final Notice

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Abortion

Summary: Black Panther, Cricket and OT7 finally meet.

Cricket & OT7: Return to Sender

Present Day

“Why are you following me?” I ask, hands bound together, eyes blindfolded. The car has stopped, and whomever was driving has exited the vehicle in favor of opening my door and yanking me out. It’s silent, apart from my breathing and unavoidably stalky footsteps. I’ve never been able to walk on eggshells, perhaps it was my mother’s direction that stomping on them was far more impactful, that has led me to wear through every heel of every shoe I’ve ever owned. Now, it isn’t my saving grace, rather a rude awakening that I must sound like an ogre to the people who live below me.

I arrived at the designated location, Jungkook trailing behind me. He refused to let me go alone but did compromise and stay in the damn car. He could see me, and I could see him. I was waiting for no more than a minute before promptly kidnapped. Not even chloroformed, just fucking grabbed and taken. Kidnapped, blindfolded and bound. Bound! Some knot a boy scout or aspiring I’m tossed in the back of a car, which, is how I’ve found myself willfully dragging my heels as they ever so gracefully force me in their desired direction.

“Black Panther, why are you following us?” The voice asks. I know that voice, I’ve heard it before, I’ve heard that code name. Had it been referring to me this entire time?

“Us?” I ask again, tossing my voice to see if it reverberates against anything, any sign that furniture or people are nearby.

The man guiding me stops abruptly and peels off my blindfold. Empty spaces are their own kind of hell, and this is no exception. The panic of darkness arises as I close and open my eyes, ensuring they’re really open and not a trick of the mystery man’s charms. I jump softly as seven lights are dropped, one in each spot in front of me, a delicate row of halos waiting to be adorned. Five men step out of the shadows, the one holding me in place making number six. Their pressed suits, cut from the finest cloth, each distinct in their pattern and style, garnish their bodies. As if on cue they cross their arms over their chests and glare openly at me.

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung,” I rattle off, each man nodding as I speak their names.

I know them all, tailed them, surveyed their homes, run into them at the grocery story and Mexican restaurants. All except fucking min Yoongi, but I know them. I know these men. I’ve spent the better part of what, two years, trying to understand them, trying to figure out how they’re related, and here they are. There’s space for another, and it takes me a minute to realize who it is that occupies that is supposed to occupy that spot.

“There’s only six of you… where’s -

“Jeon Jungkook,” His voice comes from behind me, goosebumps running up my spine as the heel of his boots hits the concrete. My body is awash in shock, anger, comfort and hope. My Jungkook. My, I have to come home to him, my north star, my sunshine on a cloudy day, my Bunny.

I was fucking right all along, wasn’t I?

“Welcome to the party.” Seokjin says.

“Is this where you tell me that Euna is Hans Gruber and somehow I’m Sergeant Powell?” I question, by tone delicate against their stone expressions.

“If anything, you’re Harry Ellis,” Yoongi says.

“That’s so rude,” I retort. “At least let me be Holly Gennaro.”

“Then who are we, McClane?” Yoongi snorts, the absurdity of my statement causing a brief moment of joy. “Bunny wishes.”

“You’re interrupting our mission,” Namjoon states, pulling my attention to him. His broad shoulders give way to a tapered waist, round golden spectacles are situated against his face, and his jaw is locked tight.

“Me? How the fuck – oh,” My eyes move towards the bulletin board against the far wall, in quintessential fashion there are pictures, string, maps and enough thumbtacks to secure the list of vets from the Vietnam Memorial. I can’t read it, but I can see it. “You guys aren’t the bad guys.”

“No, we’re not,” Namjoon says.

“The Lee family is,” Taehyung says. It’s odd seeing him this quiet and stoic, after all he’s the hottest librarian in the damn county. He comes alive within the confines of his books and stories, he comes alive. He has voices and characters and gestures to match each. Looking at him now, it’s wild to imagine him doing a full interpretive reading of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, or his most famed retelling, Peter and the Starcatcher, when he’s glowering down at me.

“They are poison, seeking revenge on anyone who has worked on cases to bring them down,” Hoseok says.

“So, you all, how did she find you?” My mind is moving too fast for me to form coherent sentences.

“Cupid didn’t find us,” Jimin tells me, eyes still boring holes into mine.

“You did,” Namjoon answers.

“I did?” I ask, eyes wide.

“Mm, your little stunts, your run ins, your photos. She gave you our real names and you-

“Gave her our locations,” Taehyung finishes the sentence, eyes still trained on me.

“You left the notes, and the photo for Euna to find,”

“Yes, but unlike you, our move was intentional,” Yoongi says.

“Codename Cupid needed to know there were higher stakes at play,” Hoseok tells me.

“How was I supposed to know this was some larger conspiracy?” I demand, temper rising.

“Did you not receive notes?” Hoseok asks, by his expression I can tell that he’s responsible for the code breakers that have arrived at my apartment and office over the last nine months. “Strange packages arriving out of nowhere, sent to your office, on the driver’s seat?” Hoseok pushes.

“Yeah, but I’ve had some really sketchy clients in the past, though none of them preferred an ABA rhyme scheme,” I retort.

“Do you know how we found you?” Yoongi snaps.

“Yes?” I ask, genuinely confused, “Google my name and my office pops up. Anyone can find me.”

“Your tactics are fucking bush league, Black Panther. They’re embarrassing,” Yoongi tells me.

“You’re a P.I., not a cop, not an agent, you’re not in the Bureau, yet you’re overstepping into situations that you have no grounds being involved in. You are fucking playing with fire and we were about to be burned if we hadn’t –

“Seokjin,” Namjoon’s voice is biting, harsh, a belt to the back as it cracks in the hot air.

“She needs to know,” Taehyung responds for his hyung.

“Cupid has been lying to you for months, leading you on, paying you over your asking to track us down for what? A few lies you don’t even believe to be true?” Jimin asks.

“We embezzled funds from their charity organization? We reported her family to the IRS?” Taehyung asks.

“We stole jewelry from her famed collection to sell on the black market?” Seokjin adds.

“We’re trafficking high quality cocaine from Colombia into the upper echelon of society?” Jimin rattles off more lies.

“We fucked her, broke her heart, and god – the worst one – we made her abort our child?” Yoongi spits on the floor, disgust flowing through his saliva like blood in the Nile.

I stare at them, mouth agape as they recite words I’ve only spoken to one person. My vision becomes blurry as I try to breathe, in through my nose, out through my mouth, but my heart is pounding in my ears and I can’t breathe. The tears always sting before they fall, and my eyes land on him, tall, blonde hair, clear framed glasses, doe eyes.

“You told them?” I whisper, the end of my sentence curling up into itself as the first tears start to fall.

“I had to,” A whisper, feet frozen to the ground as he refuses to make eye contact with me.

“You were using me?” I ask. “Look at me.”

“I wasn’t using you,” He says, soft eyes meeting mine, the fire scorching the earth.

“So how do they know?” I spit, the little droplets doing nothing to squelch the flames.

“I had –

“You told them information that I shared with you, in confidence, in my fucking bed, in my fucking homeJungkook!” I yell.

“Cricket, can we talk about –

“How dare you use my nickname to get me to calm down, I’m not a fucking child,” the sound of my cries reverberates against the warehouse, echoing violently.

“I can exp-

“There isn’t time for you to sort out your fuck up, Jeon. We have real problems to discuss,” Yoongi snaps. I can feel the tears dripping from my chin, falling to the concrete beneath my feet. The adrenaline pumping through my body as both a reaction to fear and a telltale sign that I’ve been embarrassed beyond repair. Not just embarrassed, eviscerated, betrayed. An hour ago, hadn’t I been deeply in love, terrified I wouldn’t return home to him?

“What do you want from me?” I ask. Jimin hands me a tissue, which I am grateful for as I attempt to gently blot my soaked skin. My mascara, never waterproof, comes off my eyes in dark splotches. How poetic.

“Come, have a seat, Jungkook, get her a water,” Namjoon instructs. He strides towards the bulletin board and pressing a few buttons, the board sinks in the floor to reveal a hallway. The gasp that echoes through the warehouse is audible, and louder than I intend.

“Sorry,” I say, feet guiding me past Jungkook, towards the corridor. There are no pictures on the walls, no signs that this space is used by anyone. The industrial style gives way to a door, bulletproof.

Namjoon pauses, inserting his thumb into a scanner that gives way to a retina display, where he gently places his chin against the base. The machine works quickly before giving him entrance. I watch, amazed. Who knew in the 21stcentury that covert ops and me, a lonely P.I., would intersect?

“This is, headquarters,” Seokjin says. He takes a seat at the long table in front of us and points to the chair next to Taehyung. I sit quickly, my eyes adjusting to the surprisingly bright space.

“Oh my god the view,” I say, composure slightly recovered as I take in the expanse of greenery.

“Yeah, benefit of being in the middle of nowhere,” Yoongi says.

“Read your file,” Namjoon instructs.

The file in front of me, manilla of course, is packed. “Why paper copies?”

“Easier to burn,” Yoongi mutters. He’s taken out his computer and is busy typing away, no doubt pulling up a list of my infractions. Undoubtedly fucking an undercover operative is number one, though falling in love is objectively far worse than sex.

Jungkook brings me a water and deftly cuts the zip ties around my wrist. His hand moves to sooth the indentation and redness from their grip, but I pull them away before his thumbs graze over the skin. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him retreat to his seat at the end of the table.

“If you’re the top of the line, 007 should be shaking in his oxfords, can’t you encrypt it?” I ask.

“Your encryption is only as good as your worst coder. We can’t take that chance,” Namjoon tells me.

“First, I don’t think that’s the saying. Second, the government, who I’m assuming you work for, Interpol, MI6, etc. all use computer systems,” I counter.

“Do you remember the election of 2016?” Yoongi retorts.

“Point taken,” I nod. Of course, Russia. No one was ever safe. “But can’t you blame a lot of that on Zuckerberg and the higher ups at Twitter?”

“Read your file,” Namjoon instructs again.

I open it to find a rather aggressive breakdown of my work as a PI, both items that were on the internet and ones that only top-level government agents could have accessed, that is, unless the NSA has been tapping my phones. Details of my family life, my past relationships, my driving record, it was all here.

“Why isn’t Jungkook on the list of romantic partners?” I ask, eyes looking from Seokjin to Namjoon.

“Are you in love?” Namjoon asks.

I don’t wait for a response from Jungkook, or to find the courage to say the simple three lettered word, yes. Instead, I busy myself by clearing my throat and loudly moving the pages about my life to a separate pile. Underneath is all my evidence, print outs of my documents, surveillance photos of me working. I stare at them, horrified.

“How long have you been tailing me?” I question.

“How long have you been working with Euna?” Taehyung asks.

“Sixteen months,” I reply.

“Ten months.” Taehyung answers.

“You hacked my computer? Is that legal?” I inquire, knowing full well that it isn’t.

“I can tell that you don’t understand who you’re dealing with, so let me put it this way. We’re the ones who knock. We’re the ones who cause dignitaries, presidents, whole countries to quake in their boots. It’s us.” Namjoon’s voice is calm within the storm, its resolute and baritone and every word that he utters is meaningful, impactful. He means what he says, and he fucking says what he means. In every interaction I’ve had with him, which frankly have been maybe more than he realizes, he’s been measured in his speech, only speaking when he has something worth saying. He is patient with himself, kind to others, except for today, when he clearly does not want to deal with me.

“How very Heisenberg of you,” I roll my eyes.

“You don’t want to be Jane,” Namjoon urges.

“Okay first of all, in a Breaking Bad scenario, I’m clearly Jesse. Second of all, Krysten Ritter has had a very lovely career. Finally, this cannot be overlooked or underestimated, I’m Veronica Mars, bitch.”

“Read. Your. File.” Namjoon’s teeth are clenched, his fist resting on the table, his patience going.

I glance at Yoongi who is sniggering, Seokjin who is making eyes at Jungkook, and Jimin who is busy doodling along the margins of his file. These glimpses, these little hints at the weight of their souls, these are the men I’ve been following for nearly two years.

It’s in staring at the remnants of my evidence that it hits me. “Jungkook gave you these photos.”

“Yes,” Seokjin answers.

“Everything you told me was a lie,” I say, eyes burning holes into the stolen images of my work.

“Crick- Y/N, that’s not true,”

“I knew you were connected, that day in the dog park, I knew,” I should’ve trusted my instincts, though they told me to trust him, maybe I should’ve run.

“I didn’t lie, Cricket, I -

“Look, I’ll work with you, whoever you are, but I’m not working with Jungkook,” I look at Namjoon.

“That’s not an option, Black Panther,”

“How did I get that nickname?”

“Can you focus for ten minutes? Read your damn file so we can discuss the next course of action before you have to go meet Codename Cupid for your weekly meeting,” Namjoon bites.

“Fine, do I have to go to that meeting if you’re, doing whatever you’re doing?” I question. “Seems a bit redundant.”

“If you don’t meet with Cupid, she will know we found her, and our decade of work is completely useless.” Seokjin says, stepping in to mitigate the anger erupting from Namjoon.

“What am I supposed to say to her? She knows too much already,”

“She doesn’t know what she knows,” Yoongi answers. “Looking through her emails and texts, it’s clear that her family wants the seven of us dead for espionage, and for attempting to bring them down. All Cupid knows is that you found us, which she assumes is a fatal flaw in our plan, though she has yet to understand the plan at all.”

“It’s completely intentional,” Hoseok adds. “Cupid only knows that we either worked for her company or dated her or a sibling. She knows our fictitious careers and lives but has no clue about who we truly are.”

“Her brother, Dae-Seong, Codename Archer, is the one who wants us gone, eviscerated, eradicated. He’s the one driving this whole thing. Archer’s convinced Cupid that vengeance will solve her romantic woes,” Jimin tells me.

“But what about Jun-Seo? You left him the night of your engagement party, and Kwan-Min, you went on a few dates… Couldn’t this be about them?”

“Codenames Bow and Arrow are less of a threat than Cupid and Archer,” Taehyung answers.

“Cupid has been kept in the dark for the past, fifteen years, in regard to their business. The dark dealings of her company reside solely with her siblings and their parents. We want them,” Namjoon finishes.

“Why not use Euna, sorry, Cupid, as the patsy?” I ask.

“Who will run their company?” Yoongi asks.

“Someone else?”

“There’s too much evidence, nearly the entire company is dirty,” Jimin tells me.

“So, you’ve been spying on them from the inside?” I question.

“Sort of,”

“It’s Nixon, Watergate extreme?” I ask.

“What does Cupid know, and when did she know it?” Yoongi answers, his annoyance completely dissipating at my Watergate mention.

“Why do you think she’ll believe me? She doesn’t have much faith in me as of late,” I question, the lilt of insecurity in my voice. Jungkook glances at me, eyes soft at the familiar tone, he tries to offer a smile, at least, it looks like he’s trying.

“Yeah, because you fucked Jungkook and she found out. Before that though, she couldn’t sing your praises enough,” Namjoon’s calmed down, his frustration settling like sediment at the bottom of a pot. Adding an eighth person to the group was always going to shift the balance, move the power around and rattle nerves. But me? I’m burning it down. Though I can’t completely be to blame - Jungkook is also at fault.

“Fine. What do I say to her?”

“Haven’t we gone over this before? Lie,” Yoongi says.

“Yoongi, if you’re going to be an ass, can you please direct it at someone else?” I snap.

“Feisty,” He nods approvingly.

“Black Panther, you have notes in your file about what we need from you,” Namjoon instructs.

“You want me to end my relationship with her?” I question.

“Yes,”

“What about –

“Either you end it first, creating an enemy, or she ends it with you which will not be helpful for us,”

“I just,” I look at them, eyes finally glancing to Jungkook. He looks exhausted, and sad, so sad, his irises choppy waves searching for harbor. “Do I have a choice?”

“No,” Namjoon answers, but Jungkook’s eyes tell me exactly what I need to know. I don’t have a choice, and somewhere along the line, he stopped having one too.

“Fine, tell me what to do,” I flip to the page in my file, eyes scanning the words, mind no longer full of Jungkook my boyfriend, but of Jungkook, Operative, member of OT7. This is a job, a job that seemingly could make or destroy my career. I don’t have time or the emotional space to navigate his crashing midnight eyes. All I have now is focus, drive, determination, and hints of stubbornness. This is the same drive that in a weird twist of fate, has led me to this very conference room, with these seven mysterious men.

I cannot fuck it up.

I will not get a second chance.

Next: Black Panther Meets Codename Cupid

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scarlettwitcher · 4 years

Text

Baby Girl Chapter Three

Summary: Y/n tried to avoid her past with a certain Statesmen but when they’re partnered back up for a mission that could cost millions their lives, Y/n must make the right choice. (This is the Kingsman: The Golden Circle movie basically in writing with reader insert. I recommend watching the movie, it’s amazing! It’s on Amazon Prime Video.)

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Agent Gin(Y/n), Tequila, Ginger Ale, Eggsy, Merlin, Champ, Harry, mentions of Poppy, Charlie, and Clara

Word Count: 5,168

Warnings: angst, really bad insults, fluff, SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral(female receiving), cursing, that’s it, i think.

Author’s Note: This is what started everything. I wanted to write this scene in general ever since i watched the movie, and then it just progressed to me writing this series so enjoy! Shoutout to my lovely @giftofdreams for being an amazing beta! I do need a few betas for a few fics i have, if you’re open to help, send me a message please! As always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome/needed.

Previously...

Whiskey knew exactly what Champ meant and he sighed, nodding his head. "I'll try Champ."

"I'm serious Whiskey. That girl has been trying hard to recover. She may be young but she has a big heart." Whiskey nodded as he waved his goodbye, hanging up the call. He was relieved at finally having some time to talk to you, even if it wasn’t alone. Who knew this would be the start of a long, long roller coaster.

Now...

Soon as promised, he appeared in his jet, picking you and Eggsy up, flying you both to where his girlfriend was so you could get your passes to the festival. The whole plane ride you locked yourself into your room, ignoring Whiskey’s occasional knocks on your door. “Darling, talk to me.”

A few hours later, another knock filled the silence. “Sugar, please.” Of course, you ignored it. “You can’t be in there forever baby girl.”

You ignored every one of his advances and you tried even harder to ignore the pet names. Once upon a time, his words would melt you and make you feel like you were the only one in his eyes. Driving up to where Tilde was staying, you sat in the back, watching the scenery pass by as your hair flowing in the air. Whiskey’s eyes kept glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know how you could be more beautiful than you were but here you were, taking his breath away as you always did. Stopping in front of the house, Eggsy jumped out of the car and ran inside leaving you alone with Whiskey. He cleared his throat as he patted the passenger side chair. “Come up here with me darlin.”

You laughed humorlessly as you shook your head. “In your dreams sugar.” He knew you said that condescendingly and he huffed in annoyance.

“Sweetheart, you have to talk to me at some point. We’re on this mission together.”

“Then I’ll only talk to you about the mission.” Whiskey rolled his eyes as he half turned in his seat, watching you. You felt like his gaze could burn through you and you wiggled, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what, darlin?”

“Like you want me. We both know it ain’t true.” You mumbled quietly looking away from him. He felt his next words die in his throat as he tried to think of something nice to say. He really didn’t know the extent of the pain he caused you. Sure, you were in your early twenties and you were considered immature by most but you knew what you felt for the cowboy was real. Whiskey sighed and turned back around before honking a couple of times, alerting the butler nearby. You watched as he neared the car and Whiskey waved him away, mumbling his apologies. A few minutes later, Eggsy appeared with a few bands in his hand. “Got the passes from my contact. You're gonna love Glastonbury.”

“Well, that's the easy part, kid. Take a look in the glove box.” Eggsy popped the glove box open and looked inside, pulling out a tiny container. He opened it and you swore he wanted to laugh. He looked at what looked like a minuscule condom. You remember feeling the same when it was introduced to you. “Fucking hell, bruv. Thought everything was supposed to be bigger in America. Is this why you overcompensate with these massive cars?”

Whiskey chuckled, pushing his glasses back up his nose, as he leaned in, holding his finger up to Eggsy. Whiskey was about to explain its use but you decided to butt in. You leaned in between the two, giving your shoulder’s back to Whiskey as you looked up at Eggsy. “Goes on your finger. The surveillance tracker is in the tip. Apply light pressure for three seconds to release it.”

Your scent quickly invaded all of Whiskey’s senses and it took everything for him to not moan. You smelled sweet, just like he remembered. He was so tempted to reach out and touch your skin, seeing if the way he remembered it was the same or if it was better. “Nice, bruv.” You giggled at his slang and your laugh snapped Whiskey out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat and you sat back as Whiskey drove off in the direction of the festival. You spent the car ride talking to Eggsy as much as you could, ignoring a simmering Whiskey. You made it a point to ignore him and it didn’t take long for Eggsy to catch on.

From the moment you arrived, you were overwhelmed with the people, smells, and the music. Considering you entered the agency at a very young age, you didn’t experience a lot of the “life things”. You didn’t have the typical years any teenager did. Both your parents were Statesmen and they raised you in hopes you would become one too.

Whiskey noticed your excitement as you slipped on your band and he couldn’t help but smile. You were adorable. You walked amongst the people in between Whiskey and Eggsy as he started talking. “Okay, so according to her Instagram feed… Charlie's ex-girlfriend is up ahead at the VIP bar. Which one of us is gonna plant the tracker?”

You came up to the V.I.P entrance where several tents surrounded a large bar. The security guard stopped the three of you, motioning to his wrist. “Bands, please. You’re good.” You passed him with ease as you continued your walk into the area.

“I say we both make an approach. Whoever gets on best, goes for it.” You visibly stiffened at this, not happy with what could happen. Both Whiskey and Eggsy noticed your immediate discomfort but neither said anything. You weren’t included because from research, you were able to conclude she was straight and you wouldn’t be able to woo her.

Eggsy cleared his throat before shaking his head slightly. It didn’t take a genius to figure out you and Whiskey had a past, especially after he noticed your behavior in the car. “Well, it doesn't have to be a competition, bruv. Why don't we just go up to her… shake her hand, pat her on the back, whatever, you know. Job well done.” You commended Eggsy for his kindness. You hadn’t known the brit for very long at all but you took a liking to him and he to you.

“The hand is not a mucus membrane, Eggsy. Neither is the back. They teach you anything at Kingsman?” Whiskey found it amusing that Eggsy hadn’t caught on to how the tracker was applied and he shook his head. You kept your head down, trying not to call attention to yourself. Whiskey noticed how guarded you had become and he wished he didn’t have to take a stab at sleeping with the target. He had just gotten the opportunity to be around you again and he knew this would make everything worse.

“What are you talking about?”

“Our trackers are designed to enter the bloodstream. They circulate harmlessly, providing full audio and GPS.” As Whiskey explained, he made a hand motion with two fingers and for a second, you forgot you were angry with him, remembering how undone you became on his fingers the first time you slept together. Your mouth watered and you felt your underwear dampen at the memories of what happened between the two of you. Eggsy was in a whole other world as he finally started to connect the dots. He held up one of his fingers in question.

“Mucus membrane. That's like up the nose, isn't it? What the fuck am I gonna do? Stick my finger… It's not just inside the nose, is it?” Whiskey spotted the target and he kept his eyes on her. You noticed and you quickly switched from aroused to feeling nauseous. You mumbled quietly about how you needed a drink, making your way to the other side of the bar. You had to keep your eyes on the target in case anything could happen.

“No, Eggsy, it ain't.” Whiskey watched you leave and he sighed, feeling tense about the whole situation.

“Fuck.”

“All right, I'll take the first crack. Watch and learn, buddy.” Whiskey took a chug of his small flask before he was stopped by Eggsy’s hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure about that bruv?” Eggsy nodded his head towards you. Whiskey glanced in your direction and sighed as he shook his head. He knew if he was the one who had to place the tracker, things would worsen with you.

“No, I’m not but I have to give it a try, no matter how bad it might go.” Whiskey took another sip as he winked at Eggsy. Eggsy just clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He caught on quick that he was going to make the target reject him on purpose for your sake.

“Good luck.”

Whiskey walked over to Clara with a cool swagger to him. You watched him as you downed another shot. “Miss, I beg your pardon. Now, I don't wanna pester you, but I just have to know, what time are you playing?” Because of the comms that you were wearing, you could hear everything and you couldn’t help but cringe at his words.

“Pretty little thing like you come here often?” You had had a hard mission that involved kids and Whiskey found you at a bar, drinking your pain away. You smiled tightly as you ordered another shot, signalling the bartender to prepare one for Whiskey.

“Only when I want to forget.” Whiskey chuckled quietly, drinking the shot quick, hissing from the burn.

“You and me both sweetheart. You and me both.” You looked over at him and it was at that moment that you knew. You were in love with him.

You knocked back another shot as you tried to shake the memories out of your head. You weren’t worried about getting drunk anytime soon. Working somewhere like Statesman, you built a huge tolerance for alcohol.

“I'm not in a band.” Clara grabbed her head in embarrassment. “Oh, God. Who did you think I was? Please don't say someone ghastly.” Her voice echoed through your comms and you downed two more shots.

“I’m sure she plays for Hozi-dead. I mean, geez, sweetpea, go outside.” You heard Eggsy snort and chuckle into the comms as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fucking hell Gin.” You held up a shot in his direction before downing it, letting out a quiet hiss from the burn.

Whiskey wanted to laugh and he had to hide it with a cough as he listened to your sweet voice. He loved it when you were jealous. That’s what he hoped you were. If you were jealous, then there was the sliver of a chance he could fix things. “God damn it, now I feel like a fool. I just assumed that a woman with your charisma…” You felt your insides turn and feel like lava as you took another shot. “Well, she just had to be somebody.” Even though you recovered, even though you swore to not fall for it again, even though you trained yourself to be better, within a few minutes of listening to Whiskey, you were falling back into the same hole that was loving him.

“Right. Thank you.” You downed your last two shots before talking into the comms.

“I think I’m going to go watch some shows, I’ll see you boys later at our tent.” Without waiting for a response, you disconnected your comm and tracker, leaving them on the bar counter, needing some alone time to think. Whiskey wanted to tell you to stay, to just give him a few minutes but he couldn’t, not with Clara staring so intensely at him. He looked away in the direction where you were and took a deep breath.

“No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to make me feel like a dumbass. So I'll let you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink.” Whiskey snapped his fingers at the bartender trying to get his attention. Clara watched unamused.

She raised her finger as she spoke. “Follow my finger.”

Clara swiped her fingers a few times to the left. Whiskey followed her finger every time before he chuckled and raised his eyebrow in confusion. “What are we doing?”

“Swiping to the left. What, you don't do Tinder in America?”

“Tinder what?”

Eggsy finally approached the pair as he nodded. “Do you know, I think it's probably a generational thing. It translates as "Go away, old man." Whiskey cleared his throat as he filled his mind with thoughts of you to keep his cool and not punch Eggsy.

“Be good, be cool. Bye.” Whiskey took another sip of his flask as he walked out of the V.I.P. area in search of you. He knew it was probably not going to work but he flipped out his phone, pulling up your name. He smiled fondly at the picture he had as your contact, He took it the night you slept together. You were asleep on his chest, resting your head on his heart with your hair flowing across your back. He had his arm wrapped around you possessively. The angle was perfect and he took a picture, a selfie of the both of you, in remembrance. He had taken many pictures of you that night but that was his favorite. He thought back to the countless times he would look back at your photos, staring at the ones he had of you sleeping, of you riding him, of you laying naked and stretched out on his bed. You drove him crazy.

He shot you a quick text, watching for a few minutes, waiting for the read sign to pop up. Fortunately, it did and so did the little bubble indicating you were responding. He felt his mouth go dry and he couldn’t remember a time he felt this nervous. A few minutes later and a message from you appeared on his phone but it wasn’t something he wanted to see.

8:01 PM - Whiskey - Sweetheart, where are you?

8:13 PM - Gin - Isn’t trying to apply the tracker more important than where I am?

8:14 PM - Whiskey - Baby girl, please. Eggsy is the one placing the tracker on Clara. I just want to talk.

Whiskey sighed angrily through his nose as he responded back immediately. You opened the message and you could feel the sincerity. The one thing that Whiskey has only ever reserved for you was babygirl. You used it all the time and so did a lot of the agents but Whiskey never did. He had only ever used it with you. It was too intimate for him. You bit your lip as you stared at your phone.

8:22 PM - Gin - I need some time J

8:23 PM - Whiskey - I’ll be waiting baby girl

Whiskey sighed as he read your text and decided to wait for you at your tent. He walked in, looking around before deciding to sit down on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his chin in between his hands. He didn’t blame you for the way you were acting. Hell, he was expecting worse but he wanted to show you he had changed. He wanted you to see he wanted you. He had asked for a transfer back to the Kentucky offices a few months ago but he was denied by Champ because of you. Requesting again, Champ said he needed your approval to make the transfer. Whiskey knew it was going to be hard but he wanted to fight for you.

Glancing at his watch after a few hours, Whiskey noticed it was going to be close to midnight. He was starting to get worried. He knew he couldn’t get a hold of you so he waited. A few minutes later, the tent door slowly opened and you stepped into the tent. Whiskey stopped his pacing, his head snapping up to meet your eyes. You stood there timidly as you tried to gather your thoughts. You had spent the last few hours trying to get Whiskey out of your head but you couldn’t. You thought you were ready to confront him but seeing him now, every logical argument you had was thrown out the window.

Whiskey felt his heart pump with adrenaline as he made his way over to you, hugging you tightly, holding you as hard as he could. You gave in and wrapped your arms around him as he kissed your head. “I’m so sorry baby girl. I’m so sorry. Fuck, I was so worried.” You took a shaky breath against his chest and you were overwhelmed with his scent. He smelled exactly like you remembered. Leather, Whiskey, and some cheap but surprisingly sweet-smelling cologne. He rested his face on the top of your head, inhaling you and surrounding himself with all that was you.

“Whiskey w-wait.” You were overwhelmed. You pushed Whiskey away as you took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling vulnerable. “You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, not after everything you did.”

“I know, baby, I know. But you gotta let me try to fix things. You gotta let me show you.”

“I know enough to know that people don’t change.”

“Gin, I haven't touched a girl in months, since I went to New York.” You took a shaky breath at this and you felt your lip tremble. Whiskey had left for New York a year and a half ago and it shocked you. “You’re all I think about. Your smile, your scent, your laugh, your stupid jokes. The way you moan my name and call me those sweet, sweet things. The way your skin is so soft and the way you say you’re mine. I miss you.” Whiskey slowly started to walk towards you, cornering you between him and the wall. “Champ told me to not try anything but I just, you make me weak, baby.”

“Why wait until now?” Whiskey chuckled as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

“Baby girl, you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts and when I was in Kentucky, you wouldn’t let me near you. I tried.” You chewed your lip guiltily. He moved closer until he was inches away from you. He reached up gently, cupping your cheek with one hand, and he moved his other to hold onto your hip. He was holding on hard and you knew you would have bruises in the morning. He dragged his thumb against your lip so gently as if you’d break under his hold. Your eyes watered and you looked up at him with all the emotions you kept away. He reached up with his thumb to brush away your tears. You wanted to move. Every part of your body screamed for you to leave, to not give in but your heart was saying you needed to stay in his arms. You believed he had changed and you hoped with every fibre of your being you were right.

Whiskey tilted your head up to look at him as he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. “Tell me to stop and I will baby girl. Because if you don’t, I won’t hold back. I can't. I crave you too much." He didn't kiss your lips but made his way down, kissing down your jaw. He moved towards your neck, acting quickly to mark you as his. Once he pulled away, there was a large purple hickey on your skin. He kissed down your shoulders, marking and biting you as much as he could. "I've missed your skin."

You whimpered under his touch as you closed your eyes tightly, letting his mouth overwhelm you. You moaned quietly. "J-jack." Whiskey groaned his approval before kissing his way back up to your lips. He kissed you roughly, tangling his hand into your hair, as he held you against him. He moved his hands down your body until they got to your ass. He squeezed hard, pulling you up by your thighs to wrap around his waist. You happily obliged, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bed.

"I fucking missed you, darling." He moved to lay you down on the bed, caressing you as he hovered over you, looking down at you, searching for anything to tell him you didn't want this, that you didn't want him. All he saw in your eyes was your love for him. He moved his hand to your shirt and pulled it off as he inhaled sharply. He would never get tired of seeing you. "You're so beautiful, baby." He slowly unhooked your bra, tossing it across the room before leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered under him, moving one of your hands into his hair as he sucked hard, biting your nipple and pulling back, letting it fall. He did the same with your other breast, teasing you. He kissed around your skin, leaving dark marks wherever he could. He pulled a couple of giggles from your lips as his mustache tickled your skin. He smiled against you.

You reached up to tug on his shirt. You needed to feel his skin against yours. Whiskey immediately obliged and took off his leather jacket, draping it on a chair nearby as he started to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing his dark, tanned skin that you loved so much. You sat up, peppering his skin with kisses before licking from his lower abdomen up to his chest, pulling a growl from him as he pinned you down by your wrists. He held them over your head with one hand as he used the other to cup your cheek gently, admiring all of your features. You blushed under his intense gaze, looking away from him. "Don't look away from me ever again, baby girl." You whimpered as you returned your gaze to him, seeing the lust building in his eyes.

Whiskey reached down to your small, booty shorts that you chose to wear for the festival, unbuttoning them. He was impatient and he moved his hand quickly inside them, rubbing you over your panties. You gasped and slowly rocked your hips against him as he growled lowly from his chest. "So fucking wet. Is all that for me baby girl?"

"Y-yes Jack… always thinking of you."

"Fuck baby." You closed your eyes tightly as you arched your back. He brushed his fingers over your clit and you were a mess. He watched you in complete amazement. This was better than he remembered. He let go of your hands, moving his way down your body before getting to your shorts, pulling them off roughly with your panties. He spread your legs wide, staring at your soaking wet cunt and he moaned. "You have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen, princess. Fucking beautiful." Whiskey dragged a finger from your clit to your hole and you moaned softly. It should've embarrassed you how open and bare you were for him but you craved the attention he was giving you.

Whiskey got impatient and leaned forward, attaching his lips to your clit before sucking roughly, groaning at your state. He was everywhere and you couldn't catch up. He was eating you out like a starved man. Soon, his tongue was joined by two of his fingers pumping into your pussy. He moaned as he sucked your arousal, pulling off with a loud slurp. That made you blush intensely. "Taste fucking better than I remember." Whiskey was very hard in his jeans and it was starting to hurt. He reached down, unbuckling his belt and his jeans, letting some relief get to him as he continued to suck your cunt like he wouldn't ever again. He didn't relent and you knew he wouldn't until you came. It really didn't take long as he inserted a third finger, pumping quick and rough into your pussy, your arousal coating your thighs. With one last suck on your clit, your body was surrounded with waves of pleasure. You cried out Whiskey's name as he didn't relent, sucking even harder, drinking all of your arousal up. You twitched from the over sensitivity, trying to pull Whiskey off of you.

"J-jack, hold o-on." Whiskey laughed as he relented and kissed his way back up to your lips.

"Sorry baby girl. You know I love your pussy. Always get lost in it." You kissed him affectionately as you pushed him to stand, crawling down the bed until you got the edge and you moved down to your knees. You finished unzipping his jeans, tugging them down, releasing his impressive length. "Baby, you don't hav- ah fuck!" You didn't let Whiskey finish as you took his length into your mouth, pushing to take him all the way. You were a bit more than half ways before his cock hit the back of your throat. You suppressed your gags as you pushed to take all of his length. His hand came down to your hair, holding you in place as you choked on his cock. Your eyes watered and you felt the tears fall down your cheek as you pulled back with a loud gasp. You panted as you took his cock in your hand, pumping his shaft as you caught your breath. Whiskey's head fell back from the pleasure, moaning out, feeling like he was getting too close for his liking. You were going to take him back into your mouth but he stopped you. "Baby girl, I'm way too close and I'd like to finish inside of you."

You whined as he lifted you back onto the bed, his body covering yours seconds later. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He looked into your eyes wanting reassurance before slowly pushing into you, the room full of your pants and moans. He slipped all the way in, staying still so you could get used to him. He peppered your face with kisses, leaving you a giggling mess. "Jack, move p-please."

Whiskey complied and pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside of you before thrusting back roughly. Soon, he found a rhythm and he was pounding into you. He moved one of his hands down to your thigh, holding you possessively as he pulled your leg up to wrap around his hip. You let him take charge of your body, as he thrust over and over, filling you up like no one else could. "So tight princess. So." With every word he said, he thrusted harder and harder into you. "Fucking. Tight." You cried out in pleasure, raking your fingers down his back, long red strips coloring his skin. Whiskey let his face fall against your shoulder as he started to falter in his rhythm, getting close to his climax. He reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit, wanting you to cum first. "Come on baby, cum for me. I know you can."

Your body jerked at the sudden increase of pleasure and you moaned like a whore being fucked at church. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, feeling every breath he took, every moan that vibrated through his chest. You felt every word he spoke to you and you felt what you did to him. You felt safe in his arms. This was where you always had belonged, with Whiskey, in his embrace. Before you could even prepare, your orgasm hit you harder than you could've expected. Your body was on fire as every thrust heightened your pleasure, sending you to a new heaven. Whiskey moved both hands to either side of your face as he held himself above you, his muscles clenching. He knew he was about to cum and he needed his strength to not fall on you. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna c- Fuck, I love you, baby girl!" A few more thrusts inside your tight entrance and he was cumming, filling you with his thick seed.

You laid there, frozen and in shock but it had nothing to do with him releasing inside of you. It was the words he cried into your ear as he came. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as he hovered over you. You pulled him into you, loving the weight of him on top of you. You felt his rapid beating heart matching yours. You laid there in blissed silence. After you both had finally calmed down and Whiskey let his fingers roam all over your skin, you found the courage to speak, or in this case, whisper. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what darling?"

"Do you love me?" Whiskey stiffened for a second before relaxing and turning to look at you. You looked so radiant under the candlelight of the tent and he wondered just how he could be so lucky. After losing his first love, he swore he wouldn't love another. He didn't deserve to. That's what he said to himself every day until he met you. You were his second chance at a good life. He dragged his finger gently across your forehead to your nose and then to your lips, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. He plopped himself up with his other arm and pulled you under him as he nudged his nose against your cheek, inhaling and humming quietly. Your scents were mixed perfectly and he loved how he could scent his cologne on your skin.

"Yes. I’ll love you until the cows come home. You're all I want, baby girl." You felt your heart soar and you pulled him down for a sweet kiss. You poured all of your love into it. You weren't prepared to say it back just yet but you knew he knew. Whiskey knew you loved him and you didn't need to say it. He slowly kissed down your jaw, covering every inch of your skin with a kiss. It didn't take long for him to harden and for round two to commence. All night, you made love in the tent until the morning.

You were exhausted after the many sessions you both had and you were asleep, tucked into Whiskey's side. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly against him. You didn't expect this side to him but you loved it. You slowly stirred in your quiet slumber, knowing you had to return to the agency to prepare for anything to appear for the mission. You felt a heavyweight against your hip and you smiled, remembering everything from the night before. You never expected things to go this way but you were happy. You turned in his hold for a little, and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, like all the worries that weighed heavy on his shoulders were gone. You loved seeing him like this and you silently vowed to yourself to try and help him feel like that more often. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before deciding to get up for the day. It was going to be a long day and you felt it in your bones.

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx @queenxxxsupreme @whitewolfandthefox @riviawitch3r

Agent Whiskey Tags: @thesadvampire @le-roman-rose @mcudisiac @someone-take-my-bagelseverywhere @chibi-liz05 @marvel-avengers01 @themandjalorian @floccodineveautunnale @jassiepoohbear @gollyderek @retrobhaddie @wolf-lover74 @paryl @laubeck10 @ithinkwehitametaphor @wizard-b1tch @domino-oh-damn @c-ly-g @rosamedina92 @sunshinepascal @ariespedro @libellule2001 @ohpedromypedro @two-unbeatable-beaters

Tags I think would be interested(please don’t hate): @spacegayofficial @ariasfandom @lannister-slings-and-arrows @sendhoots @stevieharrrr�� @dindjarindiaries @hiscyarika @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @jimmythegirl @catfishingmorales @generaldamneron @cptnbvcks @swhiskeys @honeychicanawrites @scribbledghost @thepascalorian @ladydahliawrites @roboboyjinx-writes @zeldasayer @damerondjarin @aint-that-a-mcfreakin-bitch @aerynwrites @mandadoration @absurdthirst @huliabitch @gryffindorwriter @ghostofthebarricade @astrolo-galaxy @siempre-pedro @cherryplasmids @madadlorian @sithlordmando @bubble-tea-bunny @beskars @longitud-de-onda @archieimagines @outfatuating @lesqui @inknopewetrust @menacingmandalorian @softpedropascal @pascalisthepunkest @swimmingbyrd @buckyodinson @everstarry @naivesansa @waywardodysseys @paniclana @tiffdawg @siempre-pedro @fandom-imagines-stories @umbrellasandlassos @kingsmanstories @bucks-angels @the-real-xhorse

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quixotic-writer · 4 years

Text

Midnight Mischief

Requested by: @birdgirl1772

Summary: Of course things were awry on this tour and they were left to relocate motels but could only get two rooms since the hotel was fully booked. Sal and Q share a room and a series of events lead some emotions to bloom.

———————————————————

The boys drug their luggage back to the tour bus completely appalled at the state of their initial motel and decided that wouldn’t be the safest location for them to be spending the night. Joe was busy on the phone back on the bus attempting to call other locations in hopes of some open vacancy for the four jokers.

“I could NOT believe what I saw in my room, it was disgusting I still feel my skin crawling.” Sal exclaims as he thinks about the terror he just witnessed in his room and shivers. Mysterious stains everywhere, pretty sure there were bedbugs crawling about the mattress, the bathroom looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Needless to say he was the first person to back out of staying at the sketchy stop, it was a germaphobe’s nightmare.

“I can almost guarantee that there’s been special ‘services’ performed in the room I was in. It reeked of shame and prostitution.” Q chuckled as they finally reached the bus and threw all their things back on board.

“Mine had what i’m pretty sure was a used needle on the dresser! That was fun!” Murr chimes in with his own horror story worthy motel room. They walked on to see Joe pacing in circles, deeply invested in his phone conversation. They watch in awe as the typically goofy character goes serious business mode over the phone. Soon though, the conversation ends and his demeanor quickly shifts back to his normal humorous aura.

“Okay boys, got good news and got some bad news. Good news is I found a half decent non-crime-scene looking motel we can stay at.” He beams with joy and pride.

“And the bad news?” Murr mumbles out.

“Well we only got two rooms, don’t know how but they’re packed. But i’d rather stay in two good rooms than have four health code violation rooms.” The boys all look to each other and they shrug their shoulders. Joe made an amazing point, some sacrifices are willing to be made for their safety and comfort. “I’ll be talking to the tour manager later about this incident. We’ve had some ‘experiences’ in sketchy places but I think we all can agree this one takes the cake.” They erupt into laughter and reminisce on some of their previous run ins with run down battered motels and hotels. As they continued their journey on the road, they all gathered on the sofa of the bus to discuss sleeping arrangements.

“Okay, since i’ve lived with Joe before i’ll just bunk with him for tonight.” Murr says. Sal quickly agreed with the idea knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to stand Murr in a cramped room for longer than an hour, let alone a whole entire night. He wouldn’t have been surprised either if Q was on the same track as he was.

“Cool that means Q and I will be sharing a room tonight then. That alright with you, Q?” All heads turn to the man in question and Q nodded along. In his mind, however, he was trailing off now knowing that he’ll be sharing a room with Sal. He always played up the “Vulquinn” shenanigans just to get reactions out of fans and out of Sal, but the joke slowly became a little too real for him to handle. He would never admit it but he started to have some feelings for Sal. The once playful banter and flirting they kept doing was usually for show around others, but they soon found themselves doing it in their normal day to day lives with and without an audience. The way Sal looked at him made it feel like his heart stopped for a moment, any time Sal grabbed him while laughing so hard made his whole face would go red, and the playful flirting drove him to insanity because he wasn’t sure if it was real or not anymore.

The rest of the short ride was filled with chatter about the upcoming shows and what material they could bring on. Once they had arrived to their new destination, it felt like déjà vu as they unloaded all their stuff and retreated to their designated rooms.

Sal and Q walk to their room and open up the door to see a decent looking single room living area with a bathroom connected. The only issue: there’s only a single king size bed and no sofa, the only chair in there was a fold up chair in the corner of the room.

“Well looks like we’re just gonna have to share a bed tonight.” Sal says matter of factly, not at all bothered by the predicament. Q, on the other hand, felt his heart race at the thought but it evolved from excitement to panic fairly quick.

“I can sleep on the floor Sal it’s fine.” Q panics trying to find any alternative way out of the situation.

“Q that is going to seriously mess up your back. We need you in one functioning piece this tour. Also, germs, Q. The floor is so filthy. It’s cleaner than the last place, but still not clean.” Sal sets his suitcase off to the side and heads into the bathroom to scope out the joint. Q places his things away and just accepts his fate for the night mentally.

“I’m gonna get ready to head out for dinner then.” Q says then goes to freshen himself up a bit, splash some water on his face and change out to better looking clothes. He wants to focus on dinner but his mind can’t seem to wrap around the fact that all he ever wanted was coming true in the worst way possible. Sal cleans himself up too following a similar ritual as Q.

They both leave the room and meet up with Joe and Murr to go and find something to eat. Collectively they all decide on Denny’s as the safest place to eat around the area being that it was the most familiar, affordable, and also the closest since they didn’t want to stray to far from the place they were staying. They sat in a round booth, Q being squeezed between Joe and Sal with Murr sitting on the other side of Joe. As their meal progressed, Q couldn’t help but take occasional sneaking glances at Sal as he got lost in the conversation during their meal. He couldn’t help but also notice Sal doing the same, or he thought that’s what he saw. Maybe his mind could just be playing tricks on him to give him some sense of false hope.

Once the meal was over they all had grown tired and decided to call it a night and walk back to the motel and get some much needed rest to fuel up for the long day they had coming tomorrow. They said their “good nights” and that left Sal and Q to trail off to their room to wind down for the night. Q throws himself onto the bed and Sal groans.

“Q, off the bed, you haven’t even showered yet. I don’t want your grease in the bed i’m also sleeping in.” Q sits back up on the bed so he doesn’t have to hear Sal be the hygiene commander anymore. He plops himself on the shitty fold up chair in the corner of the room that creaks as he put his weight on it. When he looks up he sees Sal remove his shirt and disappear into the bathroom where the door shut and locked. Q felt heat rise in his cheeks and his heart race, it was only a split moment but it was enough to burn an image into his memory. His hands grip at the sides of the chair seat as though he was bracing himself for something.

“Stop it Quinn, you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that.” He quietly curses to himself. He rubs his face and anytime his eyes shut all he can see is Sal. Everything has been driving him crazy but today just seems to be the icing on the cake. He just sat there and stewed in his whirlwind of emotions.

The bathroom door quickly opened back up and a wall of steam falls into the room. Sal emerges from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist and now Q felt like his head exploded.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Sal casually strolls over to his suitcase to grab what he needed without batting an eye. Q quickly hides in the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He stands there for a moment frozen. Why is the universe testing him today?

“This tour is going to be the death of me.” He says to himself as he strips all his articles of clothing away and steps into the shower. As he stood under the hot running water and cleaned off his body, his mind began to play scenarios in his head. Sal walking towards him with nothing but a towel on, hazel eyes filled with a seductive energy, his hands all over Q’s body, lips connected, the towel falling. “Fuck.” Q quietly murmurs as his hand slides down and wraps around his now hard cock.

More filthy ideas play in Q’s head, his eyes closed fully envisioning all he’s ever lustfully desired. Their bodies intertwined, hot breath on his skin, love bites littered all over their bodies, the aching relief of climax. He pumps harder and faster as he leaned against the shower wall biting down on his knuckle so hard it nearly breaks the skin to prevent any sinful noises from slipping out and echoing past the paper thin walls. the harmony of their bodies moving rhythmically together, Q hovering over a needy whining Sal, thin layer of glistening sweat that made him glow underneath him, mouth agape with dirty obscenities falling out.

It all had become enough for Q to unravel and accidentally allow a loud and low groan of his crush’s name to escape that he couldn’t quite catch before it was released. He came down from his high and covered his mouth realizing how loud it actually was and what exactly he let slip, he stood silent for a moment to see if the man on the other side of the wall would react at all. The running water was the only sound that was consistent, pure silence besides that. Q sighed in hopes that he had gotten away with it, but worry and nerves still settled in the lower parts of his stomach because maybe Sal knew but didn’t say anything.

He finished bathing and decided to shake the feeling away and try to convince himself that everything was fine. He steps out of the shower and sees the room is dark, he goes to his suitcase and peeks over at Sal. There he was in bed curled up quietly in peaceful rest. This calmed Q now knowing now that Sal probably hadn’t heard his slip up. He dressed himself in his pajamas and climbed into the sheets on the empty side of the mattress.

As he sat there with heavy eyes, he couldn’t help but stare for a little bit at the man that snoozed away next to him. He looked so calm for once rather than being on edge. Finally the weight of his eyes got to him and he fell fast asleep.

In the middle of the night, however, he felt his sleepy state grow lighter until he was half awake but refused to open his eyes. He felt a warmth pressed up against his side and it felt as though it was moving. He finally managed to pry open his eyes and look to his side where he was met face to face with Sal. It slightly startled him to a more awake state as that wasn’t what he was expecting to wake up to. Sal was still deeply asleep, snoring lightly as he breathed. As he looked down to see what the movement was, he almost had to do a double take.

There was Sal grinding up against Q’s thigh like a dog in heat. Q went very stiff unsure of what to do in a predicament like this.

“Do I move him? Do I move? Do I wake him up? Do I keep this secret? What is going on?” Was playing in his mind along with a thousand other questions. His thoughts were zooming at a million miles a minute trying to process the situation and take proper action. Although he was lost in his head, there was something that quickly brought him back to reality.

“Mmm~” A low hum came from Sal’s vocal chords and Q felt the blood begin to rush to places he didn’t want it to. Things were getting messier and messier by the second and Q still had no clue what to do and felt like a deer in the headlights. “Fuck... Brian...” Words slipped out of Sal and it made Q’s eyes go wide. Now he knew he would not be able to go back to sleep. Was he dreaming about him? Q couldn’t ignore it for much longer and decided it’d be best to wake him up, he couldn’t bare much more of this.

He shook Sal on his shoulder lightly until his snoring and moaning stopped and his eyes fluttered open. Sal didn’t say anything but groaned at the fact that he was awoken in the middle of what obviously appeared to be a pleasurable dream. Sal looked down to see the position he was in and his whole face went pale as he pieced together what was going on.

“I’m so sorry Q.” Sal said sheepishly, he stumbled over his words and was absolutely mortified and wanted to crawl into a cave and never return to civilization. “Did I... say anything?” Q felt his face go red as he recollected all the things Sal moaned out in his heated moment.

“You might have mumbled a few things.” He said trying to hide the fact that he knew Sal was having a wet dream, even worse a wet dream about him. Sal looked up to the older man and smirked.

“So you could take a wild guess as to what I was dreaming about then. I know i’m not the only one that’s been a little needy on this tour.” Sal eyes Q up and down and Q mentally flatlined in that moment. “I heard you in the shower, you’re not as sneaky as you think Quinn. Sneaking glances at me in the restaurant, playing coy with all this flirting, and now jerking off to me in the shower? You play a dirty game.” Sal knew. That son of a bitch knew. But more importantly, he felt the same way and this was Q’s green light to stop fantasizing and start living the reality he always wanted.

“You say I play coy when you’re just as bad. Listening to me in the Shower, Sally boy, that’s pretty dirty if you ask me. And I had to find out that you have the hots for me with you grinding up against my leg like a horny teenager? Who’s the one playing dirty here?” Q gets up and hovers over Sal whose face filled with shock and the realization that he teased Q a little too much and now he’s going to pay the price for it. “Do you want me to continue.” Q feels fired up and watches as Sal swallows hard beneath him. Sal quickly grabs the collar of Q’s shirt and reels him in for their lips to crash together, lips working hard at the other’s with desperation. That was all Q needed as he ground his hips against Sal, feeling his aching hard member through the layers of their pants and boxers.

Q’s lips escape Sal’s and go on to kiss at the sensitive skin of his neck which got a long drawn out moan out of Sal. Sal’s hand reaches down and snakes its way into Q’s pajama pants and grabs hold of his hard on.

“Oh shit.” Q breathes out at the sensation of Sal’s hand and he quickly grows into a groaning mess as Sal begins to pleasure the man on top of him. Q thrusts his hips, physically begging to feel more.

“Someone’s excited.” Sal says as he watches Q fall apart before him, delicious music to his ears. Sal pushes Q off of him and lays him on his back, he sneaks down underneath the covers and devilishly smirks knowing what he’s about to do. Q feels the warm body move under the covers and on top of him, his pants slide down along with his boxers, a hand hold his cock, and then suddenly a wet hot warmth around his it.

The sensation made Q’s toes curl and he desperately gasps for air. He props himself up on his elbows and moves the covers up to reveal Sal taking sucking Q off. Sal notices and smiles a bit while he continues to bob his head, taking the tip of his tongue and swirl it around the head. Q’s head flung back and his hand shot to Sal’s head, grasping at the hair on top of his head feeling as it moved up and down. Nothing comprehensible came out of Q’s mouth, just a strew of noises that only made Sal more excited as he worked his mouth around Q to keep the noises coming. Sal ground his hips against the mattress to get his own sense of pleasure and he hummed at the sensation, the humming sent vibrations through Q which caused his release to creep in faster.

“Fuck, Sal, i’m gonna cum. I’m so close. You’re so good at this, shit.” He whined out. Sal removed himself and looked into Q’s eyes as he pumped his dick hard and fast in his fist.

“Do it, cum for me Brian.” He said in a low seductive tone. Soon enough, hot ropes of cum came shooting out of Q with the same groan of Sal’s name he had released in the shower earlier, only this time he wasn’t afraid to allow all his sinful noises to echo through the room.

Brian huffed, seeing stars as he descended from his high and looked at Sal who was still humping into the mattress. Q smirked and pulled Sal up so his back rested on his chest and kissed along his neck and shoulders. He reached his arm around to grab hold of Sal’s hard on and started giving him the sexual attention he deserved.

“There’s no telling you how long i’ve waited to see you become putty in my hands like this.” Sal’s hands gripped around Q’s forearms as he watched breathlessly as the older joker jerked him off. The sensation of Q’s hot breath on his shoulder, wet kisses along his silhouette, broad hands and thick fingers around his dick, and the pump of Q’s heart against his back sent him over the edge into a pool of pleasure. He quickly met the same fate as Q as his back arched at the sensation.

Q assisted in the clean up, grabbing wet cloths from the bathroom to wipe the two of them down. They clothed themselves again and snuggled up in bed and a wave of exhaustion swallowed them whole as their bodies sunk into the comfort of the thick sheets and soft mattress.

“So when we’re you gonna tell me that you like me like that?” Sal jokes as he curled up against Q’s chest.

“I don’t know, I thought the whole flirting thing was just a long stretched out joke.”

“We both know it wasn’t really a joke anymore.” Q chuckled knowing they both had crossed the barrier between playful and serious and they both were a little too oblivious to realize it.

“You’re right, but here we are. I mean, that is if you wanna be a thing?” Q stops himself from solidifying anything too fast. He looks to Sal and he’s staring back but with a shy smile.

“I would have liked if you took me to dinner first.” He giggles and Q can’t help but smile. “But i’d like if we were a thing in all seriousness.”

“What are we gonna tell the guys?” Q asks genuinely curious now that everything that happened had fully sunk in.

“They can figure it out themselves. Who knows, maybe they’ll just think this is part of the gimmick, it’ll make it even funnier.” The thought of that made Q laugh even harder, the rumble of his chuckle made Sal shake a little. “Okay now enough with the pillow talk, we seriously need sleep and i’m on the verge of passing out.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight Sal.” Q brings the other in close and gently kisses the top of his head, Sal nuzzles his head into. his chest and takes in the scent of Q’s musk. He felt comfortable and content.

“Goodnight, Bri.” They both closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep knowing now they no longer had to dream of the other or keep their feelings locked away. And it was all thanks to some midnight mischief.

———————————————————

Next door to them, however. Joe and Murr sat there in bed grateful that the moaning and groaning had finally stopped and they could finally get some shut eye.

“Who in the hell has surprise sex at this hour? I swear when I see them i’m going to kill them.” Murr grumbled as he pouted trying to find a new comfortable position to finally go to sleep.

“Or we could get back at them.” Joe jokes over to Murr who clearly was not having it at all and just wanted rest.

“Not a chance Gatto.” Those were his final words before he finally decided he had enough for the night and was determined to go back to sleep. Joe just shrugged his shoulders and curled back up in bed.

“Eh, it was worth a shot.”

#brian quinn #sal vulcano #james murray #joe gatto #vulquinn #smut #suki writes #implied murrgatto??

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inspector-montoya-fox · 4 years

Text

#10 - Jailbreak

Setting: let’s enter the SpOOkY!!! girl, i’m sorry i have to take a moment to appreciate the KI that this episode is. from the statues that come to life to the purple water, the red sky, the bat props that Sly can ninja-spire onto, the music. it’s like a Scooby-Doo episode. Contessa’s house looks like a freakin insane asylum hahahahaha this is all fantastic. i’ve been to Prague and the towers are literally the same. i know i should be analyzing this in the Themes section but in terms of environment, Prague (both levels) are the crux of Sly 2, if not narrative-wise, then definitely emotionally-wise. @designraccoon made this amazing post a while back which went into detail about how the Prague levels represent the darkest nights in the entire series and then in Canada it’s day. i mean, the whole game is great but these central four episodes (from A Starry Eyed Encounter until A Tangled Web) are, in my opinion, what make it so amazing. there’s definitely climax because the stakes are so high. 2/3 of the gang and Carmelita have been captured, Neyla has double-crossed us, Bentley (who was up until this point the weakest link physically) is all alone, and as we find out by the very beginning of the episode, the Contessa is a secret Klaww Gang member. well, this is all dandy. having Bentley alone further establishes how haunting this episode is because we first witness the hub as him, which has never happened before. he’s an itty-bitty-witty turtle roaming around the ultimate spooky level. and the Contessa, she didn’t come to play hunty. i’ll go into more detail about her character below, but she feels more of a threat than Rajan or Dimitri. not because she herself is scary, but because she’s built an empire. Dimitri had bouncers and Rajan had his staff, but Contessa has an entire army and (at this point) Interpol backing her up. in terms of environment, the hub feels huge because of the giant prison in the centre. it truly is a pain in the ass to enter the prison, but that just highlights the fact that, well, it’s a prison. in general, SP really captured the essence of a European town: the stone pavement, the bridges and the sections under them, some historical arcs blocked by cage bars, etc. all this being said however, if we factor in the narrative, Jailbreak’s Prague feels very dead. maybe it’s done on purpose, but due to the gang’s absence and the prison’s overbearing presence, this (similarly to A Starry Eyed Encounter) feels like a prelude. we’re defo onto something big, but we first have to break out Sly and Murray. and lord knows what comes next is big...

Characters: i want to expand the Setting section here but also leave the big gang moments for the Theme section, so this is really about the Contessa. this episode is soaked in melodrama. the themes are heavy, the morale is low, the narrative is complex to say the least. The Predator Awake’s ending was such a shock that we genuinely forget about Carmelita’s whereabouts, as she’s not even mentioned here. we meet the Contessa and, even though she’s already been introduced, this is the first time we really get to know her. the hub really encapsulates her character: a total psychiatrist witch whose gothic surroundings reflect her malicious intentions. a true villain, the definition of the word. she’s a member of the Klaww Gang but also has an ulterior motive and even gives the gang a run for their money with her hypnosis. the bitch also has a blimp she uses for swift getaways, i mean what more can you want. and this is not even her ultimate form as A Tangled Web will see her deliver some very important lines of dialogue and truly show off how evil she is. but for now, she lurks in the shadows. similar to Rajan in the previous level, she spends most of the episode absent (you’ll notice there’s no Clockwerk part in this episode too). this is probably done to give the player some breathing space after the Neyla twist and allow the gang to gather their strength. but her presence is felt, due to how she embodies her hub, the personification of the obscure and the SPOOKY ! for me, the Contessa is as big a villain as Clockwerk, Neyla and Dr M. she’s just selfish and that’s her downfall, as we’ll see in the next episode where she’s presented in a very Nietzschian fashion. it’s like they merged Miz Ruby and Clockwerk: they honed the spooky aspect by added intelligence. Miz Ruby was too short sighted and lacked ambition. the Contessa created herself after she murdered her husband, made herself rich through her psychiatry scam, earned a strong rep via Interpol, and touched the divine by getting her hands on the Clockwerk eyes. the self-confidence is unreal.

Themes: uh, fear theme !!!!!!!!! (like the full shebang, not the half-baked version from The Predator Awakes) our characters are put to the test, forced to face their fears. Bentley had to learn how to drive the van, drive all the way from India to Prague, and explore this nightmare of a level all on his own. Sly was captured by the police and Murray was rendered weak, his will and control taken from him with the use of spice. the theme fits the level like a glove and everyone gets to confront their fear. Bentley succeeds in saving his friends, Sly (although not shown directly but instead mentioned via the Contessa) breaks free from the “hole” under which he’d go mad, and Murray goes head to head with the Contessa at the end of the level. as i analysed in the Setting section, the fear theme is further established by the spooky environment and missions (werewolf statues and evil robots that come to life), as well as the prison’s interior. i mean, consider the gang’s biggest fear is getting arrested but enhance it by a hundred by making the prison seem as hellish as possible. its sombre green and blue tones are reminiscent of Arkham. it truly feels like an insane asylum, with its towering cells, booby traps and devices used for hypnosis. the fear theme is dominant here, but there’s also the theme of separation. up to this point in the game, the gang’s unity has been taken for granted. soon after Bentley and Murray learn the basics, the gang is split. this not only increases the difficulty of the challenges they have to face on their own, but also puts things into perspective. mainly, things only work out when they’re together. you’ll notice that after Jailbreak (and by extent A Tangled Web), there’s an increase in group missions. He Who Tames the Iron Horse, is full of them. their time apart has all three of them realise that teamwork is essential, and that their friendship is the basis for their success. and lastly, a mind theme. i feel like there’s a connection between the hub and the Contessa’s character: her trained mind is so hard to breach, similar to the prison with its high walls. she’s a brittle spider but shouldn’t be underestimated. mind over matter, basically. her head’s interior is full of high security and intricate designs, spotlights and guards. everything feels so claustrophobic in there. both her expertise in psychology and the prison are devices used to break through with her prisoners. and once Sly and Bentley manage to penetrate the walls and get through to Murray, she’s caught off guard because of her seemingly flawless fortress.

What I Like: lots of stuff here. i was always a fun of the spooky-ooky so this is perfect. Bentley is my least favorite gang member but i really enjoyed his narration and how he came through even though the odds were stacked against him. the Contessa is my fav villain from the game, maybe even the series, so there’s that too. in terms of details, i really like Sly disguising himself as a werewolf statue on the bridge, even going so far as to imitate their open mouths. and the prison’s interior is great too. OH! AND that little bell you can hit to distract guards in the hub. i love that little bell.

What I Don’t Like: i’d have to say, the missions are kind of a drag, especially after The Predator Awakes which had some pretty good ones. apart from following the Contessa around and playing as Murray in the prison, the rest are tiring in my opinion (i’m not referring to the operation). specifically, Code Capture and Lightning Action feel like filler, maybe because they’re all made available at the same time, when Sly breaks out. i was never fond of the hacking and this is the episode it’s introduced in so... yea...

Quote: Inconceivable! She's no health care professional!

#inCONCEIVABLE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#SHE'S NOT HEALTH CARE PROFESSIONAL !!!!!!!!!!#Bentley sweetie... she's not.#sly cooper #episode project #this essay embodies chaotic energy #and i love that for her

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years

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Harvest Moon, Pt. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader, Summer AU

A/N: Every chapter will have a designated song to it, so please take a listen! Will be linked below. I don’t own any Marvel characters.

Summary: For five summers, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and you had been a trio; spending the summer at a lake with your families. While Bucky tagged along, there had always been a special bond between Steve and you. Every summer the lake had been something to look forward to until you stopped going and life moved on. Now as adults, Steve and you return at the same time, for different reasons. Can you rekindle that friendship or was it just youthful summer magic?

masterlist

Chapter One: The World at Large – Modest Mouse

The drive was surreal, like stepping back into time; when things were good, and life wasn’t so hard. Now, you drive alone, music loud enough to drown away all your thoughts. The two-lane road catered to those who adored the wilderness, trees planted firmly on the edge of the road acting like a winding guide to the lake. It had been over a decade since your last visit, you hoped it hadn’t changed but that’s what time does; changes things. Putting the music louder, you look over your shoulder to the moving box nestled into the back seat – a lone box, it looked so depressing, so you turned back to the road and continued on and felt some hope when you saw that you were only a half mile away.

….

James stared at his friend with a frown, watching as he pumped gas into the car with a distant look on his face; as if he was somewhere else. Giving him a few more seconds to be in his own head, James hollered at his friend from where he stood, a little off to the side; he held up the water bottles he had bought from inside the gas station, and asked if he wanted to switch driving duty.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t mind it, Buck.”

“You sure? Looking kind of tired, punk.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, nodding from him to get in the car as he finished up. Steve watched his friend and sighed when he heard the passenger door close, it wasn’t like Bucky was a bad driver, the man drove like an old lady, but the road kept Steve’s mind clear. Kept it clear from the fact that he hadn’t painted or drawn a single piece in weeks – the inevitable dry spell that most artist encounter was taking its toll on his psyche. That's why he was on this blast from the past road trip; Bucky was getting married in a few weeks and things were going to get busy, so he wanted a trip with his best friend in hopes to help him unwind. Steve was grateful for the distraction and the lake Bucky had chosen to visit was one with a lot of memories, mostly good. He remembered the Barnes inviting him on the family trip every summer, Bucky and him going wild for the two months; freedom to roam and play, it had been a great adventure, even more so when they turned 11 and girls had started to pop up on their radar – especially one.

“Do you remember Y/N?”

Bucky glanced over to his friend, whose eyes were on the road. He snorted and said yes. “That girl was wilder than the two of us combined. Man, she was great.”

“Yeah.” Steve remembered, remembered it all like it was yesterday. The first time he saw you, you were standing at the edge of the lake, hunched over with a walkie talkie tucked into the back pocket of your shorts. He remembered being intrigued and leaving Bucky’s side to take a closer look, his scrawny body hid behind a tree when he drew close enough to hear you mumbling.

“You son of a bitch,” you grumbled, fidgeting with something in your hand. Steve tried to see what it was, causing him to trip over a root. He groaned as his tiny body hit the ground, but quickly looked up to see if you had heard the commotion; you had. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he lied, getting up slowly. You watched him for a moment before walking over, holding out a hand. He took it without hesitation and thanked you. “Is this your first time at the lake?’

You nodded. “My dad and mom are trying to fix their marriage.”

Steve’s eyes widen at your brazen mouth but thought not to offer up sympathy; you seemed like the kind of girl who could punch him. Instead he said “oh” and asked if you wanted to be friends. Your eyes had lit up, and you grinned, holding up the hand you were cursing earlier.

“If you can take this bracelet off my wrist, I’ll be your friend,” you explained, holding out your arm. Steve stared at you, wondering if this is how all girls were and decided he hoped so as he attempted to pull it off, but he was a weak kid, always had been – but he had a brain.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,” he urged, and you agreed, going back to your spot near the lake to wait. A few minutes passed when he returned, out of breath and a bit sweaty, but with a pocketknife and a friend at his side. “This is Bucky,” he said, chest inhaling deeply. “Let me see your arm.”

You held it back up and didn’t flinch when he held it tight. “I’m going to count to three and cut it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Bucky, who was much taller than his companion, grinned. “Don’t cut off her arm, Stevie.”

“Shut up, Buck,” he remarked, taking a breath as he placed the knife under the blue yarn bracelet. He counted to three in a whisper that seemed to be more for him and then with one sharp move, it was off and on the ground. You shouted in relief and held up a hand for a high five to both boys.

“We’re friends now,” you declared and the two seemed pleased.

“Do you want the bracelet,” Steve asked, bending down to retrieve it. Shaking your head, you said no. So, without thinking, he tucked it into his pocket and asked what cabin your family was in. It was a cabin two doors down from Bucky’s and he asked if you wanted to go explore the woods with them.

“Hold on, I have to ask my mom,” you said, pulling out the walkie talkie. The two boys glanced at each other with amusement as you radioed your mother, explaining that you met two boys. “I think they’re my age, let me ask.”

“We’re 11,” Bucky answered, and you nodded.

“They’re my age.”

Steve listened as your mom said okay but to be back before dark. “Dad wants to take us out to dinner at the lodge.”

Agreeing, you said goodbye and grinned. “Let’s go.”

That’s how it all started; a friendship between the three of you every summer until you stopped going the summer you all were 16 – that summer, when Bucky and Steve showed up, there was no sign of you and even a week later, still hoping you’d come, they knew it was over. Of course, Steve and you had exchanged addresses when you were younger, but by the time the two of you were 16, things like Myspace and AIM had taken place of physical letters. He had looked you up one day, after coming back that summer, when he was supposed to be studying at the library; his mom couldn’t afford a desktop for the house and he had never been much of a social media person, but that day he made an account and looked you up. It had taken a few minutes of going through profiles, but he finally found you. He sent a friend request and to his surprise, seconds later you accepted and sent him a message. You were so happy to hear from him and explained that your parents had finally divorced and that’s why you hadn’t come that summer. After that, the two of you kept in touch until life just happened. By the time he hit 18, neither of you had reached out to one another, busy with friends and such.

It happens, but Steve would be lying to himself if he said he never thought of you and as he drove closer to the lake that given him a friendship he had never let go of; he hoped it would ignite the fire in him once more.

....

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#Harvest Moon series #steve rogers x reader #marvel au #steve x reader #steve rogers #au #summer au #marvel imagine

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geometragic · 5 years

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Notes on Gakuen Basara (Katsuie-only version)

(( Warning: Extremely long post beneath the read-more ! ))

Episode 5

Last week, Sakon and Katsuie skipped a grade to become Year 1 students at Basara Academy. Katsuie is rumored to be a reformed delinquent.

Yukimura introduces himself to Katsuie, but Katsuie asks him, “What assistance could you give to someone who is already no better than a ghost?” Katsuie wants to be left alone by other people.

Katsuie initially dismisses the Mr. Basara Hottest of Men Contest. Sakon suddenly shows up and declares that he wants to enter so that he can make his perfect high school debut, and it turns out that Ieyasu already entered Katsuie so that he could strengthen his bonds with the students. Katsuie tries to argue that he doesn’t deserve to be in the contest, but Ieyasu tells him he does. Sakon glares at Ieyasu.

Mitsunari brings Sakon to Hideyoshi and Hanbei’s underground hideout. Hideyoshi glares at Sakon when Sakon says that he thought that Hideyoshi and Hanbei were suspended, and Sakons quickly covers his mouth and shuts up. Hanbei tells Sakon that he wants him to win because, if Katsuie loses, Ieyasu’s reputation will plummet because he forced him to enter. Sakon says that they’re putting a lot of pressure on him, but Mitsunari tells him that the arrangements have already been made.

Katsuie has many admirers among the girls.

Ieyasu asks Katsuie where the fire in his heart has gone. Ieyasu mentions how Katsuie once challenged Headmaster Nobunaga, which gives Katsuie traumatic flashbacks of that day and makes him faint on his desk. Ieyasu requests for Katsuie to be put on the baseball team. Kojuro protests, but Masamune allows Katsuie to join the baseball team. Masamune puts Katsuie through intensive training so that he can surpass his own limits and break out of his shell.

On a rainy day at a warehouse, Katsuie told Nobunaga that today was the day he would die (and Katsuie would defeat him) so that Katsuie could have everything. Nobunaga just made him explode. Oichi watched everything silently, then left with Nobunaga in Nobunaga’s fancy car with professional drivers. Katsuie was left face-down in the rain.

At first, Katsuie sucks at catching balls, but eventually he catches one. Suddenly, a bunch of fangirls come out of nowhere and yell that Katsuie did amazing, and that his melancholic eyes are so dreamy. However, Oichi then tells him to his face that she hates him and despises him. Katsuie then loses all confidence of ever moving on from that day, and runs off screaming. However, it turns out that she wasn’t talking to Katsuie, and she was just saying that she hates whoever defaced Nagamasa’s poster.

Katsuie tries to drop out of the Mr. Basara Hottest of Men Contest because he’s tired to being publicly humiliated. He then declares that he will become a deep-sea fish and go rot at the bottom of the ocean. When Ieyasu protests, Katsuie yells at them to leave him alone. Sakon then appears and says that he can’t do that because he’s been ordered to take down Katsuie. Masamune coaxes Katsuie into accepting Sakon’s challenge. Katsuie swipes Sakon’s dice and asks him what kind of challenge he has in mind.

Katsuie and Sakon challenge each other in a “look that way now” sudden death match. They end up being evenly matched in what becomes a heated match. Sakon can’t read Katsuie’s eyes because they’re like darkness itself. Katsuie feels that Sakon has lit a fire in his heart, and Sakon feels that the challenge isn’t about Mitsunari or Hideyoshi anymore, but the gamble of a lifetime. Katsuie wins. At first claims that he doesn’t have the right to rejoice openly, but when he spots a smiling Oichi in the crowd, he smiles. Sakon declares that victory is all in the roll of the dice, and that he won’t lose to Katsuie next time. Katsuie says that he’ll remember that, and shakes Sakon’s outstretched hand.

Episode 7

Katsuie is the “ghost-in-chief” in charge of the haunted house. However, he used the whole budget on a cheap trick that makes a rokurokubi appear to stretch itself out of a well and wiggle. Ieyasu (”Tokugawa-shi”) compliments it, though. Ieyasu then helps him turn it into a reverse haunted house: whoever can truly strike fear into Katsuie’s heart is the winner.

Later, Mitsunari bursts out of the door to the haunted house, complaining about how Katsuie (”Shibata”) won’t let him put a sea creature (a hood) in there. Katsuie gives the hood a rating of -5 points because of its terrible design and halfhearted stitching. Also, Ieyasu brought Kingo to be used as the fear meter. Katsuie proudly proclaims himself to be the law of the haunted house. Mitsunari says that this is just one of Ieyasu’s bids for popularity and that he wasted his time coming to the haunted house.

Kojuro wears horns and a sheet on top, but Katsuie is dissatisfied with it and only awards it 2 points. Masamune wears knight armor and points six swords at Kingo, but because he’s inspiring the wrong type of fear, he only gets 3 points. Yukimura writes characters on himself and presents himself as Hoichi the Earless, but because he’s too energetic, Katsuie gives him a terror factor of zero. Sakon wraps himself in toilet paper and pretends to be a mummy, but Katsuie throws a bucket of water over him, calls it a childish prank, and gives him only two points. Sakon protests, saying that he didn’t have to come. Keiji dresses himself and Yumekichi up as members of K.I.S.S. (?), but Katsuie criticizes it for being just a stage costume.

Dr. Akechi comes in with an anatomical model and a skeleton. Katsuie feels like using those against the rules, but since Dr. Akechi came in with a creeping terror and caused Kingo (”Kobayakwa-shi”) to faint after giving his loudest scream of the day, Katsuie seems to consider letting him win. However, Dr. Akechi forfeits and says that he still has long to go, before pulling out a green notebook, Katsuie’s “Ghost King Diary” (“Kaioh Nikki”). Katsuie looks terrified and asks him where he got it.

Inside the “Ghost King Diary”, Katsuie says that he sees through Nobunaga. He also hates his powerlessness and Nobunaga, and longs to one day become the “Ghost King” again and defeat Nobunaga. He would gladly offer up his life to the devil himself to do so. Other entries from the “Ghost King Diary”: “X/X Lord Nobunaga was overwhelming as usual today. But one day, I will surpass him! Yes, I shall appear as the giant deidarabocchi titan...”, “YY/XX I am all alone in this world. But I am not content! My goal is to strike down the high king, and as the new Ghost King, to sit on the throne of ASB President...”, “ZZ/YY If I gain independence from Lord Nobunaga and defeat Azai-shi in our tests, would it sadden Lady Oichi? No, I am the one who truly deserves Lady Oichi!” Katsuie cries out for Dr. Akechi to stop, but he doesn’t. The next entry that Dr. Akechi reads out loud: “Oichi-sama...she was weeping again today. Who caused these tears? My beautiful Oichi-sama! I will never forgive them!” More entries from the “Ghost King Diary”, with Oichi as the subject: “AA/AA *sparkling crying kaomoji* Oichi-sama. Oh, Oichi-sama. Oichi-sama.”, “Nobunaga-sama’s reprimand has brought tears to her eyes. They are beautiful...nevertheless, I must make him pay, even if he is Nobunaga-sama. But she is so beautiful...” Katsuie turns white and gives up on life, and believes that he was foolish for keeping a diary.

The entries in Katsuie’s diary badly scare Keiji, Sasuke, Yukimura, Kojuro, Masamune, (and maybe Sakon? He isn’t shown at first but then he shows up a couple shots later...). Dr. Akechi concludes by implying that Katsuie is the scariest one of them all, and Ieyasu gives Katsuie the grand prize (free tickets for all displays in the school).

Everyone takes Katsuie’s tickets and has fun going to the displays. In the cat-themed maid cafe, Katsuie sits at a separate table and has Matsu’s Russian roulette onigiri with everyone else, but unfortunately, he eats the one that’s full of wasabi.

At the bonfire dance after Sports Day, Sakon and Katsuie dance together happily. Nagamasa and Oichi also dance together. Nagamasa has his usual stony expression, while Oichi smiles.

Episode 9

Katsuie is there when Ieyasu announces the choir concert.

The last time the school song was played, it was at the first day of school for the first-years. However, it was abolished because it’s cursed. Whenever anyone sings it, terrible things happen, according to Dr. Akechi. Once Dr. Akechi leaves, Katsuie says that he’d love to hear the cursed song, causing Sasuke to protest.

Katsuie holds a Basara Academy flag in the background while Ieyasu sings his version of a new school song. Mitsunari interrupts and yells at Ieyasu to stop, though.

Katsuie later turns to try to leave, but Sakon stops him and says that he hasn’t heard his song yet. Katsuie tries to protest, but he ends up playing a crappy song on a recorder, which is “the sound of his current self.” Even if he never ends up in the spotlight, he’ll never forgive Nobunaga for what he’s done and wants to take Nobunaga down with him. The bell gets rung again, and Sakon looks sorry that he asked to hear Katsuie’s song. Ieyasu tells Katsuie that he did a good job by performing in front of all of them and giving a brilliant effort.

When Motochika kicks Motonari’s big CD player, it ends up loudly playing the cursed school song, which overpowers everyone and sends them to the ground. Someone pulls out the plug to the CD player, but Nobunaga keeps singing it over the intercom. After Dr. Akechi tells them that it’ll put an end to the school, everyone runs to the headmaster’s office, but he’s not there. They run to the roof and spot him on the playing field. He speaks the final words of the song (”so long”), but nothing happens. It turns out that everyone was tricked by Dr. Akechi. Everyone glares at him, annoyed, before beating him up.

The Oda army took everything from Itsuki’s peasant village / the Ikko-Ikki. They set fire to the villages, and killed children and the elderly in addition to the fugitive monks. (Siege of Nagashima and Ishiyama Hongan-ji?)

Episode 10

Mitsunari explains to Sakon that tomorrow is the Battle of Sekigahara, an annual event where the school is divided into East and West in a battle for supremacy. This year, Mitsunari will lead the Western army and Ieyasu will lead the Eastern army. Sakon deducts that the Battle of Sekigahara is a dry run for the elections, and if Mitsunari won, it’d give him a major boost. Mitsunari orders Sakon to recruit Motochika and as many champions as he can to join the Western army. Sakon says that Mitsunari can count on him.

Motochika tells Sakon no because he has more important things to deal with right now. Sakon tells him not to be like that since they have a plan that’ll make the Western army sure to win. Meanwhile, inside the school building and on one of the upper floors, Katsuie spots Sakon and Motochika through a window. Sakon tells Motochika that he did a number on the carburetor. Motochika tells him “bite me”, and Sakon mentions that he has a buddy who runs a bike shop. Sakon offers to play a game of dice with Motochika. If Motochika wins, Sakon will ask him to fix Motochika’s bike for free, but if Sakon wins, Motochika will join the Western army. Meanwhile, Katsuie has gone outside, and has been spying on Sakon and Motochika. Motochika agrees to the game, but says that he doesn’t want any tricks. Sakon appears to put the dice in the face-down cup, but from behind Katsuie can see that he’s holding an extra set behind his back. Motochika bets on odds, and Sakon lifts up the cup to reveal an even snake eyes.

Katsuie reports back to Ieyasu. Ieyasu tells him that he’s going to rely on the power of bonds and won’t force anyone to join him. Some nerdy, weak-looking background character with glasses shows up, and Ieyasu walks away and asks if he wants to join. Katsuie decides that he has to handle things himself. Katsuie thinks about how he never would’ve fit in at school if Ieyasu hadn’t helped him, and he wants to repay him for his kindness.

Katsuie approaches Keiji, but he already told Sakon that he’d join the Western army. The same happens with Nagamasa, Oichi, Toshiie, and Matsu. He tries to recruit Kanbei, but Sakon, who’s sitting in a nearby tree, interrupts them and asks Kanbei if he doesn’t want to think it over first. Sakon jumps out of the tree and tells Kanbei to forget Katsuie and join the Western army. Sakon then whispers to Kanbei that, if they win, Gyobu will tell Kanbei where to find the key. Kanbei joins the Western army.

Katsuie goes to the School Newspaper club’s room to try to persuade Kotaro to join, but he walks in on Sakon and Kotaro shaking hands on Kotaro’s deal to join the Western army.

Sakon walks through the halls, already seeing the Western army winning, but Motochika stops him. Sakon says that he can’t have a rematch. Katsuie steps out from behind Motochika, apparently having told him everything that he saw.

Katsuie is there when Kasuga tells Ieyasu that Tadakatsu has gone missing. Motochika says that he last saw Tadakatsu with Gyobu.

It turns out that Gyobu told Tadakatsu that Ieyasu had been kidnapped, tied him up, and locked him in the basement. He then sprayed sleeping powder on Tadakatsu, which is supposed to knock him out until tomorrow night. Gyobu tells this to Mitsunari and Sakon, and Mitsunari praises him. They all chuckle evilly, but then Katsuie, Kasuga, Ieyasu, and Motochika barge in. Ieyasu asks Mitsunari where Tadakatsu is. Mitsunari tells them all to get out, but then Katsuie says that they know that the leaders of the Western army kidnapped him. Sakon plays dumb and tells Katsuie not to make bizarre accusations just because he lost the scouting wars. Ieyasu yells for Tadakatsu, waking him up. Tadakatsu frees himself from his chains and crashes through the roof and into Mitsunari’s classroom. Ieyasu declares that this is the strength of their bond. Mitsunari still declares that he will destroy Ieyasu tomorrow.

The Sekigahara Dodgeball Tournament takes place. Mitsunari (flying into the air with Gyobu) and Ieyasu (flying into the air with Tadakatsu) focus on trying to get each other out, leaving the rest of the students on the ground doing nothing.

Episode 11

Nobunaga gives a surprise evacuation drill. Anyone who can’t leave in time will get expelled. Chaos erupts as students run out and Nobunaga’s hidden, life-threatening traps are triggered.

Katsuie slowly walks towards the exit, bemoaning how he never had any right to be a student at this school to begin with, but a crowd of fleeing students mows him down. He says, “And thus...I descend...to Hell...” He somehow reunites later with a group of students that includes Motonari, Mitsunari, Sakon, Motochika, Kojuro, and Sasuke, though. Yukimura and Masamune then get stomped into the room.

Tadakatsu can’t break through the metal doors, and Katsuie bemoans how they’ll all be expelled now.

Episode 12

Katsuie and Masamune help out Ieyasu on election day. Sakon and Katsuie sit next to each other at the 836th Student Elections. Magoichi holds a debate between Ieyasu and Mitsunari.

Katsuie, along with the other students, runs to fight Xavi and his flying ship.

#(( I finally finished it... XD ))#█₪➤ Out of Reflection ( ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ )#█₪➤ Reference #{ Reference: Canon Material }#{ Reference: Gakuen Basara }#▒₪➤ ≼ Gakuen Basara ≽ ( ʰⁱᵍʰ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ )

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tiggyloo · 5 years

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art direction and detective pikachu

I’ve seen vague posts and had short conversations about this with friends, but I really want to write it out.

Most of us are pretty excited about the Detective Pikachu movie, including myself. It looks like a fun, interesting, and especially unique Pokemon movie and I will most likely be seeing it when it comes out. However, I frankly won’t be able to enjoy it to the fullest due to one thing in particular: its art direction.

What do I mean by that?

I mean that the art direction is ALL OVER THE PLACE.

Art direction is, to me and many others, the most important part of any project. It’s what ties everything together within a world, it’s what makes a world interesting. Visually appealing, unique, and consistent art direction is everything. It’s what first draws someone’s attention. If the art direction in a show, a movie, a video game, any visual thing, doesn’t come together, if it isn’t consistent, it ruins an experience. And sometimes even that isn’t enough.

In video games especially (and also quite commonly in movies now) the art direction might be consistent but it’s...not much else. For some reason, a lot of [mostly Triple A and larger “indie”(?)] video game companies have decided that “art direction” means “make it look as realistic as possible”. And I’ll tell you what; that? Is boring as hell. Same with movies. It’s why I’m not interested in most “live action” movies, whether they be comedy, action/thriller, romance, or any other combination of genres. They’re just visually boring.

What’s really frustrating to me about this is that you can have realistic graphics/visuals and still have visually appealing and/or unique art direction. (I.E. Video Games: Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Assassin’s Creed, Red Dead Redemption | Movies: The Matrix (I guess works as an example for this?), World War Z, Mad Max (from what scenes/images I’ve seen of it lol))

With Detective Pikachu, the art direction takes an obviously realistic route, given the fact that it’s, you know, live action. And it’s certainly a unique direction. But the problem here is that the art direction just hasn’t convinced me in the slightest that those Pokemon are real animals, all in the same universe.

And what do I mean by that?

If you told me that Pokemon like Charizard, Bulbasaur, Lickitung, Mr. Mime, etc. were “real” animals I’d say, okay, sure, why not? They look like actual animals in that universe, more or less. Now, what do those Pokemon have in common? Why do I see them as fitting in within that world?

They don’t have fur. And that’s really the thing I want to talk about here in regards to the movie’s art direction. The Pokemon with fur don’t work.

We’ll start with the star Pokemon: Pikachu. Pikachu has been described since its creation to be a “mouse Pokemon”. A rodent. However, when I see what Pikachu looks like in this movie, I don’t see "mouse”, I see fluffy plush toy-thing come to life. I also see “cat”.

The way his fur is rendered isn’t that of a mouse or really any small (or many larger) rodent that I know of. The fur is too long, too soft, too plush. His face looks more like a cat than it does some kind of rodent. The nose and mouth are feline in nature, and that’s strange to me.

That’s not a “mouse pokemon”. It’s not a bad design, no, and it’s certainly cute. But “mouse pokemon”? That’s what Pikachu is and what it always has been, and for the artists to simply ignore that doesn’t feel right to me. It also just doesn’t look right to me.

here is a picture of a mouse. It has much shorter, more wiry and flatter fur that follows the form of its body instead of sticking out like it does on Pikachu. THIS is what I always imagined Pikachu to look like were it to be “real”. It’s what the cartoon always looked like. The only longer fur to ever really be shown on Pikachus is a tuft of fur on their heads (See: Sparky). Never have I thought of Pikachu being fluffy in any way before. Its character design never ever told me that.

When I see the DP Pikachu I don’t see an animal that exists as an animal in that world. It doesn’t look like a real animal. It just looks like a really fluffy toy.

Also the tail?

I’m not really sure what’s going on with that fur. But anyway-

How about we talk about Growlithe.

My first response to this was “Um.” My second was “is that supposed to be a dog?”

I mean I guess it kind of looks like a dog. But more as if you described what a dog looked like to someone who had never seen a dog and then told them to draw it.

Growlithes are really cute pokemon, but these? These aren’t cute. They look dirty. The fur lays on the body weird, the longer fur on the head especially confuses me. The fur doesn’t travel along the body the way a dog’s fur does. Even a dirty dog. It’s stiff, chunky. Please give them a bath.

Also apparently this is what Arcanine looks like?

I don’t remember seeing this in a trailer, and googling showed me like, DP themed pokemon cards??? No clue. But regardless, this looks okay! The head/snout shape is a little off, but overall it LOOKS GOOD! The way the fur looks here, how it shapes and falls over the body, that’s what it should look like. Why couldn’t Growlithe look more like like this? Why can’t Pikachu look like this? They don’t even look like they belong in the same movie.

Next: Pyduck!

Yeah That’s A Duck.

At least they didn’t give it fur, I guess. But they did their best to make it look like they did.

My biggest issue with this is that it doesn’t look like a water bird. They just took Psyduck and made it “real”, badly. I mean, its name is Psyduck for Pete’s sake, at least try to make it look like a duck. It doesn’t even have to look like an adult duck. If it looked more like this in face/feather texture it’d be fine

And that’s probably what it’s SUPPOSED to look like. A young duck. But instead they gave it short stubby feathers that look too much like fur and a much too thick bill (even compared to the original cartoon design).

Last one I want to talk about because if I continued with other pokemon Snorlax,Flareon,etc I’d be writing for like three hours: Aipom

good christ was is that thing

You’re telling me that that’s an Aipom. That thing. Is an Aipom.

Not only does it not look like an Aipom in anything but color, it doesn’t even look like a monkey. And what’s up with its teeth?

If they wanted to convince me that this thing is a real animal within this universe living alongside all these other animals they should have:

1. Actually used monkeys as references when designing it? Because they obviously didn’t

2. Given it, hands?? And not weird nubs??? Nubs don’t work on monkeys in a realistic setting what the hell it looks deformed

3. Not...given is perfectly straight, shiny, white human teeth.

All those things look fine on its original cartoon design, but LORD in heaven this thing is a absolute monstrosity.

The thing about all these and many of the other furred pokemon (Snorlax being a REALLY big culprit) is that the artists just...didn’t look at real life animals enough. They clearly focused on just the Pokemons’ cartoon designs, took those, and “made them real” while making the minimum amount of changes. You can’t just...take a cartoon and make it real. That never works.

All of these different designs work when in context of the shows or the games because the shows and the games have a coherent art direction made specifically for the media they’re presented in. They were never meant to exist in a realistic setting like this.

It always requires some kind of adaptions, some changes, adjustments to the original design, just something when making a cartoon look real. And they didn’t do that here. And the best part about all this?

They got RJ Palmer (website linked in source) to work on the project. RJ is an amazing artist/illustrator, one of my favorites, who is probably best known for his “realistic Pokemon”. His stuff has been reposted a few dozen times on this website alone, with or (usually) without credit, and the majority of pokemon fans have probably seen at least one piece.

The most influence he’s had with these movie designs that I’ve seen has been the Charizard. I saw that Charizard in the trailer and knew it was RJ’s. But if not for that Charizard (and the fact that he said he worked on this movie of course), I would have never known he had any part in this.

Compare the above to his art that I’m about to show you (I specifically chose Pokemon appearing in the movie for convenience’s sake, but I highly recommend that you check out his other realistic Pokemon art as well), and tell me that, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that this guy worked on this movie.

Just to name a few.

And yeah, obviously I don’t, and never will, expect Nintendo/Game Freak to go this far. But at the same time, if you’re going to get THIS artist to work on your Pokemon movie, the least you could do is make it LOOK like he worked on the gosh darn movie!

The art direction he has in his work is beautiful. All of these creatures look like Pokemon while also being influenced and actually looking like real animals. And following that more with the movie’s art direction would have done nothing but improve it. It certainly would have been more convincing for me and many others.

I obviously don’t want them to look exactly like RJ’s artwork, but the designs do need to be more uniform, and following the practices RJ clearly does would have helped that.

All that said, RJ is rightfully excited and proud of this project. It’s looking like it’ll be a wonderful movie.

I just wish the art direction was better.

#pokemon #detective pikachu #I'm sure I'll enjoy this movie but I just wish I could enjoy it MORE #character design

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cinnamonsugarsheith-blog · 6 years

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Tried something a liiiittle different with this one. Prompt was vet!Shiro. (I think she was expecting something like Yukinayee’s AU, but got this instead. In which our collective children are presh.

Warnings: Basically my toeing the waters of writing ASD!Keith. Mentioned character death, therapy doggos, disjointed fic~ Rating: Teen Pairings: Sheith, historical Shadam

Keith was anxious. He knows he shouldn't be anxious. Rosie is a great girl. But Dr Shirogane was a new vet, and even though Matt assured him he was a really nice guy, and Keith was sure he was... But they'd been seeing Dr Allura since Rosie's very first puppy shots... Keith sighed in relief as he pushed the door open and saw Matt at the receptionist desk--err not Matt. Girl Matt? Matt came through the employee door behind it. "Oh hey Keith!! This is my baby sister Pidge. She's doing her summer internship here!" The girl pushed her glasses up her nose and gave him a smile. Her name tag said Katie. This was too many new people in one day... "H-hi" he stuttered "I'm Keith." A hard swallow. "And this is Rosie." He gestured at the compact pit sitting calmly at his feet. Katie-Pidge stood up and peeked over the counter. "Well aren't you a pretty girl?" She offered Rosie a treat and Matt disappeared into the back to let the doctor know they were in.

Matt waved them back into a room and took Rosie to get her weight. When he returned Keith helped him lift her onto the table. She wasn't very big, but she was solid, and Matt, he would joke, was a string bean. Keith looped her leash around the holder and pet her to distract her from being so high up. He heard a soft click and looked up to see a man, Dr Shirogane, coming in. He was a head taller than Keith and wider and the white coat was pulling across his shoulders over his black scrubs. "Hi, I'm Dr Takashi Shirogane. You can just call me Dr Shiro though. You must be Keith? And Rosie?" Keith curled his fingers more tightly around Rosie's collar. "That's us." "Allura has all sorts of wonderful notes about the two of you in her file. I'm glad you decided to stay with the practice.” His hand landed firmly on Keith's shoulder. "Just an annual today, right? Nothing you want me to look at extra close?" He held his hand out to Rosie, waiting for her to give him a sniff and an excited tail wagging before petting her head. "Just the usual. I have her ESA recert papers too, if you don't mind." "Of course. My Kuro's are up this year too, too bad I can't sign my own." He laughed and gently pulled Rosie's mouth open to look at her teeth. Keith squirmed a little and glanced at Dr Shiro's metal hand, holding one of Rosie's ears back so gently. "They're connected," he said softly. "What, I--" "My arm and having an ESA. It's okay. I don't mind." Shiro gave him a calm smile and went back to peering into Rosie's ear. Keith felt himself burning with embarrassment. He mentally talked himself through how he must have gotten weird looks and questions all the time and how its not that embarrassing to get caught looking at such a high tech prosthetic and... Talking himself through it was not working as well as he was telling himself it was.

Dr Shiro signed the ESA papers and handed them back to Keith once he'd finished checking Rosie over. "Um, Keith, this..." Shiro rubbed the back of his neck as Keith folded up the papers and shoved them into his back pocket. "This isn't standard, but uh... Would you like to get coffee? I'm new in town and... Well I'm sure you know how hard it is to find people who want to socialize when you always have a dog with you." He gave Keith a smile. Rosie nudged his hand, making him remember he needed to respond. "Yes! Yes please-- I--" he reached up and scrubbed his hand over his face. "Coffee would be good." Dr Shiro’s friendly smile was too bright and his hand was on his shoulder again. "Relax. No pressure." He held a card out to Keith. Keith took it, unsure of when a number had been scribbled on the back in dying black pen, and left with a quiet “thanks.” Matt checked them out and gave him a wink, mouthing 'call him!'

-o-

"Well," Dr Coran started during their session two days later, "I take it since we are talking about it now, that you haven't called him?" Keith sighed. "I suck at talking to people. I've been seeing you for three years now and it took the better part of that to get comfortable. I can't even keep a normal friendship, let alone date." "What about Lance?" Keith snorted. "The jerk whose ass I kick in WoW every other day? Hardly. He thinks we are sworn enemies." "Well then what about Hunk?" Keith hummed. Hunk lived next door and brought him cookies and Tupperware full of delicious food in exchange for watching his apartment when he flew out to Hawaii to spend the winters with his family. Hunk.... Hunk could be a friend. "Maybe." "Or Matt?" Keith shook his head. He'd never seen Matt outside of where he worked, even though they followed each others social media now. Matt's little sister had friended him the other day, but he hadn't decided what to do about that. She seemed nice, and she liked Rosie. Coran sighed. "Keith, if he needs a support companion, he's bound to have as many difficulties as you do. Especially with having lost a limb. It might do you well to find someone besides me to talk to about things?" Keith nodded. "Can I?" He held up his phone. "Please!" There was a twinkle in Corans eye as Keith tapped out a quick message. Hey, This is Keith. Rosie's owner. Would you like to go to the park sometime? He held the phone out for Corans approval. He handed it back with a nodd. Keith took a deep breath and hit send.

The response was almost instant. I'd like that a lot. Maybe Voltron Metro park? It's not too far from the office. I could pick you up if you wanted though? Keith made a noise that had Coran lifting an eyebrow and he waved the phone in front of the therapist. Coran only laughed good naturedly. "That, my boy, is called a gentleman!" Keith's phone pinged again. Or we could meet at the office, or if you'd prefer to drive that's okay too. Whatever you want. And again. Sorry to be so weird, I don't get out very much. :o) That had Keith smiling. Who used o noses on their smileys anymore? He shared the thought with Coran who insisted that was a perfectly normal thing to do. Keith had a small smile when he typed out... If we meet at the office it has to be a day Matt doesn't work. :) Good point! Would tomorrow work? Text me your address, I get off at 6. :o) Sounds good Keith felt like throwing up as soon as he hit send and dropped to the space between Corans armchair and the coffee table next to Rosie. He looped his arms around her neck. What on Earth had he just done. He felt Coran move around to sit on the couch, hand lightly touching his shoulder blade. "It'll be all right. And if not, then you will do better next time. Would you like to schedule for the day after tomorrow just in case? I'm sure I can fit you in." Keith nodded. "Just in case."

Shiro pulled up in front of his apartment building at 6:45. A hulking black Sheppard sat in the back seat. Shiro got the dog out of the car and let him and Rosie sniff each other out for moment before shoving them into the back seat together. But they made seemingly fast friends, easily starting to yip playfully and tug on ears as they tussled. "She thinks she's bigger than him, doesn't she?" Shiro laughed at the antics as he and Keith got back into the front. "Definitely." "So, Keith, what do you do?" "I'm a student.... Should I um... Dr Shiro still or?" "Oh just Shiro is fine!" Shiro laughed. "This is social. What do you study?" "Astronomy and aeronautics." "That's amazing. Do you want to be an astronaut?" "Oh I uh... I couldn't. ASD and needing Rosie and all that. Maybe design rocket ships or something though." Shiro smiled. "I was a pilot before I was a vet. Briefly anyways." He held up his arm as if to explain. "My boyfriend at the time was too and he was ASD. It’s definitely still an option, Keith.” This was too deep for first date? Social outing? He hummed noncommittally. "How did you go from being a pilot to a vet?" "Well after wallowing for a month, my brother dragged me to a therapy group. They talked about service animals and stuff, but being a vet didn't click until I was offered a full ride at a school of my choice due to my injuries. Basically the Garrison didn't want to get sued." He snorts. "Nine years later and I'm a vet!"

When they got to the park they walked around the outskirts of a field centered with a jungle gym. The dogs romped along beside them, pouncing each other and playfully chasing. Keith watched them fondly, playing nervously with the leash he had brought along in case. "Do you mind if I...?" He gestured towards Keith's hand. "I'm sorry about being so touch forward at your appointment. I know that can be... A problem." Keith glanced and offered his hand. This he could do. Coran would be so proud. A blush stained Shiro's face. "Is this a date?" The blush darkened. "I-if you want it to be?" Keith surveyed him. "I would like that." He was definitely doing that thing. That made most people freak out. Where he said things too plainly. Mmmm Shiro must have been uncomfortable if he was blushing. Maybe he should stop talking. Shiro gave him a fond smile. "You remind me so much of Adam..." Keith tilted his head in question. "Um my uh... Copilot. During the crash." He flexed his hand tellingly. "And my boyfriend."

Shiro bought them coffee's from a snack vendor and they settled together under a tree, the dogs curled together nearby. Kuros much larger form curled completely around Rosie's wriggling one. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable earlier, Keith." It's okay was the right thing to say in this situation. He took Shiro's hand instead. Shiro gave it a gentle squeeze. "I have to get used to being uncomfortable to make things more comfortable..." "I suppose that’s true. But I wouldn't want to overwhelm you..." Keith swirled his coffee in it's paper cup and gave a crooked smile. "I think I wouldn’t mind that so much."

Keith positively gushed about Shiro and Kuro at his appointment the next day. Coran talked him through his feelings about the initial stages of relationships, friendships and romantic ones, and wished him luck. Keith found himself on park benches with Shiro into the evenings with more and more frequency through the next months. Shiro never pressed past holding his hand, and Keith had initiated tucking himself close to Shiro's side with Shiro's arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. "I want to kiss you." Keith said one day, when he climbed into Shiro's car. Shiro made a choking noise. "Keith?" "Can I?" There was a look of determination on his face. "Of course." Keith turned in his seat, and pushed himself into Shiro's space. Before fumbling with where to put his hands. Shiro gently helped guide them to his shoulders. Keith licked his lips nervously and leaned forward. It was a feather light brush and when Keith pulled back Shiro was twitching with his effort not to chase him. "Can I?" He asked before cupping Keith's chin. Keith nodded and Shiro leaned up, gently pulling him close again. He kissed Keith chastely, sweetly. Brushed his fingers across his cheek and into soft black hair. He let Keith pull back after a moment. Keith situated himself back into the passenger seat and Shiro pulled out of the parking lot without saying anything else. It could wait for the park bench under the stars, when Keith tucked himself against Shiro's side to hide from the cooling autumn and let Shiro run his fingers through his hair.

And they did... Shiro nuzzled into Keith's neck, planting soft kisses. Keith felt at ease and snuggled close to the older man. "I like this." "Me too, baby..." Shiro was enjoying each touch he didn't feel Keith flinch away from and had his fingers tangled in his hair. "Thank you for trusting me." Keith hummed. "I like when you play with my hair." "It's very soft." Shiro gently pulled Keith into his lap. "Special conditioner. Lance recommended it. I told him it sucked." Shiro laughed at that. "I like that too... When you laugh." "Stars are coming out, baby." Shiro glanced towards the sky. Keith looked up and took one of the hands circled around him. He used Shiro's hand to point out different stars and rattled off facts about them. When they finally made their way back to Shiro's car, sleepy puppies in tow, Keith looked at Shiro rather bashfully. "I want you to stay." "Stay?" "At my apartment." He noticed Shiro's heavy swallow. "Keith, we kissed for the first time today... I don't want to rush anything." Keith shook his head. "No pressure." He quipped back to that first day in the exam room. Shiro got it and leaned across the middle console to press a playful smooch to Keith's cheek. Keith grinned and scrambled to kiss Shiro in turn. "You're sure?" Shiro surveryed him carefully when they pulled up to the apartment building. "Yes." Keith tugged Shiro's hand shyly as he unlocked his front door. "This is cosy." Shiro toed off his shoes and looked around the little studio apartment. Most of the walls were littered with star charts and posters of nebulas. Kuro began sniffing everything out and wagging his tail. Rosie planted herself as the foot of the bed, on a red throw that was very clearly Hers. Shiro let himself be pulled over to Keiths unmade bed, and let the smaller man cocoon them in blankets. "This is nice." Shiro rubbed his hands slowly but firmly over Keith's back. Keith made a quiet noise and pushed himself up, hovering over Shiro. "This is okay?" "Yeah, baby, this is perfect." Keith leaned down to kiss him with a smile that made Shiro's chest hurt. "Can you stay?" He whispered, tucking himself back around the older man. "If that's what you want... I should probably warn you that sometimes I have nightmares." "Oh... What do I do... If that happens?" "Talk to me, don't startle me... Sometimes I lash out. Kuro usually barks to wake me up." Keith nodded seriously. "Do you want...not jeans?" "I'm not sure I'll fit in your pants, baby..." Keith hummed and sat up. His hands were on Shiro's waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping and tugging before Shiro could process it. "Jeans aren't comfortable." Shiro chuckled. Keith always wore track pants. He supposed he wasn't wrong though. He helped Keith get them off and let the boy settle back against him. "Thank you, Keith." "You’re welcome...For what?" "Letting me into your space, baby." Kuro hopped up on the bed then, settling next to Rosie along their legs.

Keith slept easier than usual that night, and Shiro slept more soundly. They only woke up when the dogs started whining to go out, and Shiro pulled his jeans back on and sleepily nuzzled into the back of Keith's neck at the doorway while they watched the dogs pad out into the grass. "Next time, maybe you can stay at my house?" "Okay." Keith said simply, relaxing against Shiro. "It's Saturday... Do you want to do something together? Besides go to the park?" They ended up at an arcade. Keith was way too good at racing games, and Shiro handed Keith his ass on a platter at the fighting games. They had dropped Rosie and Kuro at Shiro's and Keith talked absently about how one day he'd have a yard like that for Rosie to run in. Shiro had to hold his tongue on saying he would for this to be Rosie's yard too. He was finding more and more that Keith made him act without thinking. And knew eventually it would probably be to Keith's detriment. So for now he kept the thought to himself.

Shiro knew his luck had run out when he sat up in a cold sweat at 3am. He'd been dreaming about Adam. The crash.

Kuro pushed into his lap and Keith sat close, but not touching, trembling just as hard as Shiro. His hands were gripped tightly around Rosie's collar.

"I'm sorry," Shiro said thickly.

Keith knew this was where he was supposed to say 'its okay.'

This time he said it, and touches Shiro's arm with the lightest fingertip graze.

"You loved him."

"I did... Do... In a way."

Keith made a small noise.

"I think I love you."

Maybe not all his luck had run out...

"I think I love you too, Keith."

#Sheith #sheith parade #sheith au #voltron au

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