#listen…….. it does look really nice but every time i see it im jus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

warmau · 3 years

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“so,,,,,,,where exactly did you find them?”

the boy infront of you scratches the back of his head, his eyes shifting nervously to the floor

“outside the skate park.”

“someone just put them there? in a box?”

“yeah, like i told you - one second there was nothing and i was you know - skating - and then i looked back at the same spot and there was this box with -”

he motions and you look down at the four baby kittens, all curled around each other, all matted fur and raggedy looking tails

“ok. and you brought them here, which was the right thing to do - um-”

you look at him for a solid moment, piercings in every ear, nose ring, oversized hoodie, beat up board under his arm

“yuta. my names yuta.”

“well yuta, if they’re not yours then ill be taking them in as strays.”

he straightens up

“are you going to ..... are going to take care of them? or are you going to-”

you get what he’s insinuating from the way his face pales a little with fright

you shake your head, no - this isn’t a kill shelter first of all, and also kittens are always in demand to be adopted so once they get in healthy shape a loving family will probably take them in

you explain this all to yuta, who fidgets in front of the counter, and then leaves without a word when you ask him if there’s anything else you can help with

you are a little ticked at the rude exit, but a small and hungry meow shifts your focus

maybe four days pass - when the door to the shelter opens again

you’re on night duty, the other volunteer - taeyong - is in the back working on some adoption paperwork processing

and so you stand up and expect someone to scurry in as usual, looking ashamed and embarrassed, handing you off their ailing cat or misbehaving puppy

which isn’t the animals fault at all - but usually the incompetency of a novice owner

but instead you see yuta. again.

“are the kittens ok?”

you register the question and narrow your eyes

“listen if you didn’t just find them and were actually their owner you can’t jus-”

“no, no - id never abandon them like that - i-if they were mine.”

his eyes blaze a little and by the way his voice goes higher you realize he’s probably telling the truth

he has the some board under his arm and the same old looking hoodie - this time his hair is more messy, as if he came here in a rush

“i just wanted to make sure they’re ok.”

you tap your fingers against the counter and sigh

“follow me.”

he breaks into a smile but you snap your fingers and point to the board

“that thing stays out here.”

he obliges, leaning it up against one of the walls and tailing behind you as you open the door to the back

taeyong only shifts an eyebrow at the sight of you too - but goes back to flipping through papers as you stop in front of an incubator

“two of them are in here because they were in a critical condition, but the other two are over there - probably romping around with the others.”

yuta looks through the opening and the light reflects back on his face, the worried look he had been wearing turns into a heartwarming smile

and he coos at them a little before you almost have to drag him away

back behind the counter, you watch him pick his board up

this time he thanks you before he goes and asks;

“are you the one taking care of them?”

“for the most part, but other volunteers do too when im not on my shift. why?”

he pushes the door open and shrugs

“you seem like you’d do the best job at it - taking care of them and all.”

before you can even respond, and you can’t because the shock of the statement kind of paralyzes you, yuta is gone

all you see is him get on his board and skate away through the window

we’ve met once - well twice - but it’s nice i gave you such a good impression?

you check your watch two weeks later when you’re on night duty again. there’s no way he’s coming, but this is around the time he stopped by-

“hey.”

you look up and yuta’s at the counter. no board this time, but the same hoodie.

if you had known each other longer, you might have realized he got another stud in his right ear.

“are you here to finally adopt them?”

you ask, because you’re genuinely curious, also what other reason would he have for showing up here a third time

he shakes his head

“no, i can’t take care of them - even if i wanted to.”

you are about to tell him that’s a lame excuse, but you hear him mutter after

“i have to figure out how to take care of myself first.”

so you don’t answer, instead you motion for him to follow you

this time, you let him play with one of the kittens and you see the way he giggles and holds them carefully, they lean into him and although skittish with most

they seem comfortable and almost serene in the palm of his hands

you know you shouldn’t really be letting him back in here, but the happiness painted across him in the moment washes away any caution you would have harbored with anyone else

when you have to say goodbye this time, you are surprised that yuta asks when your night shift ends

“6 am.”

“woah, isn’t it still dark out then?”

“it’s the middle of summer so the sun comes out while im on the train.”

he nods, waves, and disappears again.

when your shift ends - you pack your things - and say goodbye to the animals and taeyong

you shrug your bag over your shoulder and don’t even realize yuta is sitting on the curb outside until you turn in the direction of the train and hear him go

“hey - wait!”

you feel slightly weird, but not unsafe as he walks beside you

“how long were you out there?”

“not that long, i went back to the skate park - skated till like 4ish with friends then just went down to the beach.”

“is that what you’ve been doing with your summer nights?”

you mean it as a bit of a joke, but he nods - running a hand through his hair - “not much else to do.”

“isn’t anyone worried you’re staying out that late?”

“no. no one tends to worry about me.”

you think about that phrase on the ride home.

realizing that you should have asked yuta about it when you had the chance

so instead you show up the next day at the skate park

you look around, and then you see him

he’s leaning against the fence - his board on the ground beside him, with his hoodie pilled ontop and a half finished energy drink

he’s got a sleeveless black tanktop on, messily tucked into scuffed looking jeans.

some other skaters are talking to him and he’s laughing

but he has his arms crossed and even though he looks part of the group

something about him is defensive and keeping others at bay

you don’t meant to stare, and you start thinking this was actually foolish of you to do, until he turns his head and catches your gaze

he jogs over - some people from inside the park wolf whistle and he flips them off

“i know you didn’t miss me or anything, so what are you doing here?”

you narrow your eyes - that’s the first thing he thinks to say?

“well, i just was thinking about something and- well ill just ask.”

he puts his hands in his pockets and looks at you in a way you are not used to being looked at

like he’s searching inside your expression for truthiness

or maybe safety

“is that why you brought the kittens to us. because you thought like you, no one else would worry about them?”

your voice is low, almost a whisper and the look on yuta’s face softens

“yeah.”

he chuckles, but you can tell it is sad

“kind of pathetic, huh?”

“no.”

you reject

“taking care of others is never pathetic.”

a silence quilts the conversation, but you don’t feel like it is depressive at all

instead you suddenly announce

“ill do it.”

“do what?”

“ill worry about you, so for starters, stop hanging out here until 4 am and go home and sleep.”

he’s smiling when he asks and so it betrays what point he’s trying to make

“hey, i didn’t ask for you to worry-”

“too bad. im making the decision to on my own. also, if you want to see the kittens, come during the day.”

surprisingly, yuta takes you up on the order

he shows up the following week at a normal hour of the day and when he’s playing with those kittens again

the light on his face is somehow stronger

he waits for you again to finish work, this time you ask him why - it’s light out and you don’t need to be walked to the train

“oh im not here to walk you to the train.”

“then why are you here?”

“to take you on a date.”

the date is - as you might have guessed - at the skate park

where you wobble around on the board as yuta holds you steady by the waist

you keep almost falling over so in due time you just tell him to let you give up

the two of you can go spread out on a bench and drink something cold instead

yuta agrees, but he insists that with more practice you’ll get better. you just don’t think so.

and this little day, becomes an almost weekly endeavor

you work your job at the shelter and yuta picks you up

you two usually end up doing absolutely nothing together, just walking around and talking

and yet it feels at the same time that you are doing everything together

everything that people do to survive

eating, talking, breathing, touching

when yuta first kisses you it is on the steps leading down into the train.

he kisses with an intensity you have never experience from anyone else before

so much so that you get shy and stop him because you are in public and it is broad daylight

“are you suggesting we continue somewhere more dark and private?”

he tickles against your ear and you push him playfully away

escaping down into the train before he can pick apart your embarrassment

needless to say, it does happen - how can it not when yuta ignores you telling him to not wait around after your night shift ends

and he’s there, and the summer darkness is sweltering, and he is too

and taeyong is off on sick leave, no one else is there to watch the animals with you and the little office in the back is cramped but it fits two people just perfectly

you mutter when you’re both getting dressed again that you hope the animals didn’t hear anything

and yuta, with just his jeans on - prances out to check on the kittens

then the day comes - when a young couple stops in and decides they’re going to adopt all four.

it’s bittersweet to let them go, and it almost hurts to tell yuta about it later on

with you pressed into his arms. but he just squeezes you.

“im happy they find someone that’ll worry about them.”

you agree and then his lips speak against your hair

“im happy i found someone who will worry about me too.”

you pull back and yuta waits for your reaction you lean in and kiss him gently

“im happy i get to worry about you, yuta.”

he grins and mumbles that you can’t say things like that and expect him not to keep falling more and more crazily in love with you.

but that’s exactly what you expect, and you expect that he’ll keep feeling that way

because you do

even years later

when it’s both your turn to finally worry about something together

“can we adopt four?”

“no, only one yuta.”

“fine - but what if we find four kittens like i did when we first met?”

you roll your eyes, “that’ll be a miracle.”

you walk through the doors of the shelter and are greeted with a wave from the receptionist

“are you guys looking for a dog or a cat?”

“we’re looking for a kitten, do you have any?”

yuta’s arm is around your waist and you want to tell him to stop looking at you and pay attention when the receptionist brightens

“yes! we actually just got a whole litter, would you like to see them.”

you nod and catch yuta’s wide eyes - he mouths

“a litter? isn’t that more than four? are we about to adopt like eight ca-”

you pinch his cheek, tell him to stop dreaming, but he just nuzzles in against your ear

the receptionist giggles into her palm at the affection between you two and you mumble that gosh, looks like you already adopted a big kitten all those years ago.

#the way im not posting this weeks after his actualy bday win for me #nct scenarios #nct au #yuta scenarios #yuta au #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #nct #yuta #sfw

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia Ch 19

Your bags were jumping and sliding around in the back of Madeline's rusty pickup truck. She had been kind enough to offer you a ride up to the lodge when she stopped by the shop earlier.

Madeline had seen the sour look Nate kept sending you and how you were intentionally not looking over towards the soon to be graying young man. Not one to beat around the bush she asked what was up, mam bear mode peeking through.

Nate was just being a dick to you and saying you had to stay with the Cowells longer than what had originally been agreed to. Big Jo seemed fine about letting you go back home now, even with your resolve set to continue hanging out with Toby. But Nate was trying to put a tight leash on you since you “wouldn't listen to reason” - so he said.

Even with security at the cottage updated Nate still thought it best to keep you with them if you were planning to still interact with Toby. More than likely he was trying to make that harder for you to do since staying with them would definitely make it easier for him to keep track of you.

The thought alone set shivers down your spine. Like a constrictor slithering up your back to rest around your neck and do what it does best.

It had been really hard to breathe these last few days.

But all Madeline needed to hear was “Nate” and “being a dick” before she said she'd take you herself. Thereby ending the conversation and silent argument in the shop, as she spun on her heel stating when she'd pick you up later.

Nate hadn't been too happy about the exchange but he could suck your dick. He's been annoying you with all this Toby bullshit and doesn't get to tell you what he thinks right now.

The drive up is silent, but that comfortable kind of silence between two old friends who don't ever really have a need to talk to hang out. It's nice because it gives you tons of time to think about just what you're about to do.

Going over several scripts all at once in your head.

You want to talk to Toby. You still haven't read that file but it just doesn't sit right with you that it was ever even given to you in the first place. Toby being completely unaware of the total breech of privacy makes your stomach flip just like your bags in the back right now. It's not like you ever asked for the detailed life file but at the same time it feels wrong not to let Toby know tht something like that even exists for him. His past being dug back up all without his knowledge or consent. And now here you were about to lay it right down in front of him.

Was this the right move? You're the one bringing it to his attention, if it's something that will mess him up it'll be your fault that he's upset. Jo and Nate may have gotten the information but you still count yourself as being a complacent party to all of this.

Your stomach feels like it's on a drop tower as it sinks further into a pit of guilt.

You feel like the scum of the Earth right now. Hopefully he isn't too upset.

Seeing your downcast eyes, you were a lot more expressive than you ever really realized, Madeline pipes up, “You gon' be ok there sport?”

A small smile bit at your lips. There's a reason Madeline Cobb was known in Kepler as Mama. She took care of those she saw as her own and that was damn near half the town at this point. Hell you'd heard a rumor she raised most this town. The lodge had been her orphanage before all the kids grew up and turned it into a resort once new arrivals stopped coming. That's probably the reason it's always been so warm and welcoming, it was a home first.

“Yea...just nervous.”

She lets out a small chuckle at you.

“Don' be, 'm sure that Toby boy will say 'yes'. And if he don' well you just come find me. I'll set him right.”

Ok now you were just confused.

“Huh?”

“Don' worry about it, he likes you jus' like you like 'im. It'll work out for you two.” she reaches over and ruffles your hair before jumping out of the pickup. You hadn't realized you were already at your destination.

And it was too late to correct Mama, she'd already made it inside the lodge, about why you were so nervous. The warmth in your face makes you even more grateful for your mask. Barclay was getting bit by the end of the night, the man really needed to get a boyfriend and stop trying to manifest one for you.

The door to the lodge opens again, you hardly paid it any mind. So lost in your own musing you didn't even notice the man walking towards you. Your goat plush had fallen beneath your seat and you were attempting to grab it but it was too far out of your reach.

“You good there?” Toby's amused voice calls, startling you.

Popping your head out of the opened car door. Heart racing faster at the sight of your friend standing there with a small smirk on his bandaged face. You weren't ready for this.

His eye looks better, well like a normal black eye and not a swollen lump that threatened to over take his socket. Now his eye looked like it could still function out of the slight opening. Fuck this was hard enough when you'd pictured only one eye looking at you but now you had to calculate for both!?

Is it weird that this is what worries you? Are you derailing from the actual situation? Distracting yourself so the conversation is easier on you. So you don't have to think about the possibility that Toby won't want to be friends after this. That he'll end up hating you for something you hadn't done.

God you really want to cry.

“Hey, space cadet.” Toby's made his way over to your side and puts a gentle hand on you knee, “You ok? Did something happen?”

He's really sweet, you're going to miss him.

No, stop. You need to get a grip and stop thinking like this. Toby will understand and you guys can continue being friends, a bit awkwardly but still friends. You'd get to hang out and maybe wander through the Monongahela together.

“I...I dropped my goat.”

He cocks his head to the side, brows slowly smoothing out and he gives a gentle squeeze to your legs as he reaches under you, hand searching for your lost plush.

The warmth that was once collecting in your cheeks shoots down past the void sitting in your stomach. Just another thing to add to your list you suppose. After a week of nearly no privacy or comfort you are thoroughly pent up. You don't necessarily want Toby, just need someone or something to help relieve the fire between your thighs. He just happens to be in proxcimity of that fire, poking the flame that hasn't been snuffed during your stay with the Cowells, making it dance and writhe reminding you of the need.

But you can't focus on that yet, you'd give yourself a hand when you finally got back home. Right now you needed to focus on Toby. And having that uncomfortable conversation.

“Here he is.” placing the goat in your lap he looks into your eyes, a slight glint in his.

He's in a really good mood tonight. You have to ignor the whispers in your head, telling you you're about to ruin this for him.

Luckily a tic to the right shoos those thoughts away for you.

“YN?” his hand is back on your knee, it's such a small gesture maybe even completely subconscious but it helps ground you.

You haven't read that file but you can't see Toby ever doing something awful enough to warrant Nate's barrage of paranoia and fear. Even if he did....he couldn't still be bad right? You're such a good judge of character and you called Brian on his masking there's no way you'd miss Toby lying to your face.

“I...” he's looking into your eyes searching as you take a steadying breath, “I just really need a slushie right now.” your eyes drop to the goat in your hands.

You fucking coward.

It's silent for a moment as you chastise yourself for not just coming out and telling Toby you wanted to talk. Toby's hand falls easily from your knee and to his side.

“A'right then, you good to drive?” you really missed your chance here, “'cuz Brian's got Connor tonight.”

Wait what?

You look at Toby who simply raises the right side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. A subtle raise of his right brow tells you he understood what you'd asked for. When was the last time anyone was ever able to read you so well?

“Yes!” you push the goat into Toby's chest and practically dive into the back seat for your bags. “I can drive. Franklin?”

“Don't work tomorrow, so sure.”

His good mood seems to pick back up a bit. He's chuckling as you rush to gather everything and head over to your car, barely shutting Mama's door as you do. Toby gives it a good bump with his hip to make sure it shut properly. He unlocks your car for you and slides into the passenger's seat while you arrange your shit in the trunk.

You catch sight of the skull still in your trunk and figure you'll just leave it as is for now. Since it seems that literally every time you close this trunk you forget it exists. Bye weirdly placed deer skull maybe one day you'll have a wall mount worthy of your beauty.

Before closing the trunk you do rab the file. Maybe having it up front with you will help you actually tell Toby about it.

When you open the driver's side Toby's hand is already outstretched and waiting for your phone, this isn't his first rodeo after all. You can't help but smile as you hand it right over to him. He notices, because of course he does, and beams back at you. Sending more warmth throughout your body. After collecting your emotions the guilt comes back around.

You need to stop being horny on main. And in front of Toby no less. It's weird, like you're riled up for him and not because you're attention starved and haven't known solitude for over a week.

By the time you're driving off the lot Toby had picked you 'Let's drive to nowhere' playlist. A perfect choice for tonight, seeing as these are all either songs to dissociate to or have mental break downs with. And with you obnoxious emotions either is up for grabs. Aside from the music the car was silent as you drove out of town.

You were so wrapped up in what to say to Toby, how to say it, when – that you ended up not saying anything at all. Toby on the other hand couldn't wait for you any longer and broke the silence himself.

A habit he seems to have, must not like silences.

“Normally you don't shut up,” the words were harsh but his tone wasn't for once.

He watches as the scenery changes from quaint country road to interstate. “Did something happen?”

An awkward anxious smile makes its way on to your face. You've never been good at schooling your features and smiling was unfortunately your default in the even of confrontation. It was probably just your brain's way of protecting you from emotional trauma.

“Sorta.”

To his credit Toby waits for three full songs before prying for more information.

“Another attack?” he's on edge.

To be fair you are too.

“No, like hell Jo and Nate wo-would let me leave if that were it.” your head jerks twice to the right. You miss Toby's wince.

Nate barely let you leave the shop today, you had to get outside assistance aka Mama.

“Ok, so what happened then?” as you bit your lip trying to find your words Toby is running through his own list of possibilities. “Dis Ma- Tim do something to you?”

Huh?

Why would Tim have anything to do with this? Are they still fighting? But Brian has Connor tonight...that doesn't seem likely but you've really only hung out with Toby thus far. You don't know enough about their group dynamic.

You also didn't miss the beginning syllable Toby said. Was he trying to say 'Matt', 'Mark', 'Manny'? There were so many names that Tim's alter could have but at the least you've more or less been told there is an alter to begin with.

But why would Toby be concerned about Tim's alter? Was he the one that punched Toby? Were they actually the two fighting and not Tim and Toby? This is confusing just being on the outside, you have no idea how the trio copes with this situation.

“Oh no, Tim and Not Tim have been nice to me.” if you're coming clean about the file might as well come clean about knowing Tim has an alter. This way Toby could pass along the message to Tim and Not Tim.

“Back up, not liter-mrrow – literally. 'Not Tim'? You've met Mas-Ma-Masky?!”

Masky? That's a strange name, but who were you to judge the name someone gave themself. Maybe he's a He/Him enby.

“Not like formally or anything, but I'm pretty sure he was the one that helped me and Ronnie out the other week.” you switch lanes to drive off of the interstate, hoping to find a secluded road to have this conversation on.

God knows it's going to take all of your concentration.

Toby was seething in his seat and you know the tension is only going to get worse going forward.

You can hear him muttering to himself, 'of course' or 'he didn't remember', over and over. Finding a good place to park the car you take it and turn to Toby, who's still lost in his own head.

“Tobias.” you call trying to jostle him and it works a little too well in a sense. As he blurts out, “Don't! Masky's dangerous stay away from him!”

He immediately freeze like he hadn't meant to say that. And while it wasn't a tic it was probably an impulse brought on by his anxious frame of mind. He's popping his knuckles again too.

You don't know why you said it, looking at Toby's wide blown pupils – riddled with fear and nerves, you should've kept you mouth shut.

“Dangerous like you?”

Or at least phrased that a bit more eloquently.

Toby's eyes grow dark and his good eye cuts low nearly matching it's swollen twin. A shiver runs down your spine even though you know the malice is not for you.

“What.” he hisses out.

It's not a question, it's an order. He wants to know what you know and maybe even who told you. Maybe he thinks Masky told you something, since that was the topic of the previous conversation.

Dark eyes watch you like a hawk as you pull the file from the map holder in your door. His chest is nearly heaving with every breath at this point, can he hyperventilate? That's a dumb question he most certainly can. And he's either on his way to that or a panic attack. You hope you don't send him into a panic attack, Connor's not here to help. Connor know pressure though, Toby's had him preform it on you during your spells. Would it work the same if you laid on top of Toby? You're getting too distracted right now.

Not trusting yourself to not just back down now, you hold the folder out to Toby to take.

He's just staring at it like it'll attack him at any moment, and honestly it might...just not physically. He glances up at you. There's a funny flash of deja vu likening back to the first time you met. Cold indifferent and confused eyes looking at you as though you were some strange alien they'd never seen before. This time however there's a spark of something else in them. Something dark that festers beneath the surface. Was that hatred, betrayal, or was that the wall he was building back up. The wall that would sever this friendship.

Stop projecting. He hasn't even taken the file, he can't possibly know what's going on right now.

“What's that?” see.

“Nate got super protective after the attack, I guess the other day you just like rubbed him the wrong way. So, he had someone look into you. That file is everything they found...pretty sure it's your whole life, I swear I haven't read anything. Not even a peek. But Jo and Nate tried to tell me the-”

He snatched the file from you before you'd even said you hadn't looked. He opened it and a second later it was closed and he took a shaky breath before looking at you.

It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights tonight, you knew that breath was one of barely concealed rage. This was it, this was where everything ended, all because Nate had “a bad feeling” about Toby.

But you trusted Toby, he wouldn't hurt you. He was your friend.

“So” he lets out a harsh sigh, “you didn't...you haven't read anything?”

You hastily shake your head, “What did they tell you.” he looks off to the side and his mouth is all screwed up, and not in it's normal mangled sense.

“That I shouldn't see you anymore, you did something bad, awful, terrifying; Nate's list goes on but I sort of...fo the fingers in the ear 'lalala' thing” you say sheepishly, “anytime he tries to tell me something. Jo stops when I ask him to. He's not too worried about you...I think.”

Or he's working behind the scene to keep you and Toby separated for the long run but that's speculation and not the point of this conversation so you don't mention it.

Toby's flipping through the file skimming it, no doubt looking for his checkered past, he finds what he's looking for and nods once continuing on like he was reading a grocery list. Which he may as well have been, a grocery list of all his transgressions. With the way his fingers gripped the edges of the folder you could tell he was putting on a front about the contents.

They did bother him.

“Why didn't you look, why didn't you listen YN?” was he seriously angry at you for that?

“It was an invasion of your privacy. Whatever's in there I wanted you to have the ability to tell me on your own terms – if you ever even wanted to. Not because you were forced into it because I found out from some third party that doesn't even know you.”

“Then why the fuck did you -wrong- practically jump into a car with me and then hand me a file on my shitty life!?!” He slammed the file down into his lap with a lot of force, more than he should have used for sure. “They think I'm a menace and they're right you shouldn't have...you need to...” he trails off looking like he's trying to disintegrate the file in front of him with latent laser eye abilities.

His arms are shaking.

No – he's trembling. The way he's biting his lip tips you off. He's trying to hold himself together, trying to stop himself from breaking. This can't be the same person Nate's so worried about.

“You're biting your lip, that's not good for you.”

“Fuck off.” it's half hearted at best, no real weight behind the words. And he does let his abused lip go.

“It's a breech of trust if I didn't tell you this...I wanted to give you the file because you should know it's been read by two people, to my knowledge.” you place a hand on his forearm, “Toby, I don't know what you've done in the past but...you know you aren't that person now, right?”

He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him. You follow, as dumb as you understand it is, getting out of your car in the middle of no where with a very unstable person.

“Get back in the car. I mrrow I can't...I need a minute.” his shaking is so much worse now that he's standing, It's even put a tremble in his voice.

“You're stupid if you think I'm leaving you alone in the middle of no where.” you stand your ground, he may need space but this is not the place to have it. You're only a few miles from town, you can get him back to the lodge where he doesn't have to see or be near you.

Hell you won't say a word on the way back.

“Like you're not stupid for ignoring the warnings that I'm dangerous! I've killed people! Did you know that?! Did you even think that's what was so bad!?” he's giving you the same glare he had on when he talked about the fight with Tim.

“I could literally kill you right now, you've driven us out to who knows where but still remained in walking distance back to town. You live on the outskirts of it and it'd be so easy for me to make you disappear and everyone would believe your stalkers got to you.” his chest heaves at a vicious rate.

Despite the venom and truth of his words, you can't find it in you to be scared of him. If anything his rant proves Toby must not have been mentally well during his crimes, he's acting like a cornered alley cat not a serial killer. There's a vice grip on you heart at the thought.

“Ok...are you?”

It's like a switch has been flipped in him and he calms instantly.

“What?” he knows what you're asking.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked like you'd been asking what time it was.

He stares at you looking you up and down, “No...I wouldn't.” his neck jerks triggering your own tic.

“Then I'm safe.” you slowly approach him, much like you would a feral alley cat. “I trust you Tobias.” you reach out to tough his arm again.

It hadn't worked in the car but Toby does seem to calm down faster when he's being touched. Like the sensation brings him back to reality and locks him there.

“Y-you shouldn'n'n't.”

He doesn't pull away this time as you place your hands gently on his forearms. His eyes raise to meet yours.

“...I've killed.”

He sounds so helpless.

The only thing you find shocking about this is that he actually did it. You know people are capable of all sorts of vile things. But the way Toby's voice breaks, the tremors that run through his body. You can't see any similarity with the horror show you once imagined, a Toby covered head to toe in blood and a vicious grin.

The fact that Toby killed doesn't really phase you much more than the ever present 'how' that rings out. He must have had a reason. Jo wasn't too worried so maybe it was circumstantial. Not to mention Toby's among the general public. Could it have just been an accident? A misunderstanding?

“I don't – no I'm not going to say 'I don't care', because this is something that really effects you but I...I guess what I'm trying to get at is..it doesn't bother me. I know it should but, Tobias I just can't picture you as a murderer.” that blood stained Toby flashes before you singing 'liar', “I got to know you before finding out any of this. So, I know there must've been a reason behind it. And that's...and you don't have to tell me anything.”

Nothing more is said, after all you've said everything you could think of to deescalate the situation. And Toby is frozen as he stares at you. You'd have thought he was dissociating had it not been for the way his eyes still held that tiny reflection of light. He was still present, just unsure how to proceed.

Honestly you were stumped too, you had no idea how to begin this conversation let alone end it.

“My – there was...” you rub his arm in a small circular motion. You don't need to hear anything more, it already feels like too much information that he'd lost the agency for.

But your gentle shushing did nothing because he continued, “Clairse says I had a psychotic break and...just went after the biggest stressor at the time.” he pauses with a deep breath and closes his eyes in the process. “She says it wasn't really my fault, I was under...a lot of – I wasn't there, where I should've been mentally. My dad was abusive...anyone in my situation would've broken at some point.”

His words are hollow and robotic. A mantra he's learned to say although he doesn't believe it.

You'd normally give someone the choice but this time you just slip you arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. There's no resistance from him either, if anything he leans into the embrace and grips onto your back. His trembling doesn't stop but it's softened by the pressure.

“You don't have to tell me anything Tobes. I don't want you to...not if it's this painful.”

“I want – want to tell you about Lyra.” his voice cracks in tandem with his neck as he says her name.

And he does tell you, against all your protests to take his time. He tells you everything laid out his whole life right in front of you. From being home schooled early on – isolated within his own home for years, to his older sister and her untimely accident that he's still clearly wracked with guilt about, and then the spiral that ended in patricide and a fire that ate his entire neighborhood.

By the end of his recounting he'd stopped trembling and letting out the occasional sniffle – and now the two of you were leaning on the hood of your car. Looking at the stars that just started coming out for the night, you occasionally whispered affirmations to Toby as he tells more stories from his childhood. The good ones this time.

His spirits aren't as high as they were when you'd started your evening but they're much better than they were two hours ago.

You chuckle as he finishes telling you about the time he and Lyra managed to sneak out of the house for a concert only to realize they had no way of getting back into the house when they returned. Their mom just opened the door letting them inside with a small crease in her brow but the smile that played at her lips told them everything they'd needed to know. They weren't in trouble, she'd sent them off to bed and in the morning asked how the show was. From the way Toby talked about his mom you can tell he really loves her. The feeling must've been mutual, if she sent them off to bed instead of dishing out a punishment all because Toby had smiled for the first time in weeks that night.

“Ah, favorite child Toby strikes again.” you joke.

This time Toby didn't say anything, you had been throwing small jokes in to help keep the mood light, but he just looked at you with his head tilted. A grim expression barely crossed his features before being replaced with a lopsided smile and warm but sad eyes.

“Y'kn – Kyra used to say that all the time.”

“Must be true then.”

He looks at his hands with the softest expression you've ever seen. It's an expression normally given to Connor, just sadder this time.

You nudge him getting his attention back to the present.

“You still want that slushie?”

He takes a moment to look around you and finally rests his gaze on the stars. “Not Franlin, not tonight.” he says focusing back on to you.

“Think we're two exits from Riverton if that helps. They have Wawas.”

“Wawas?” he chuckles.

You nod, “Yea they have smoothies and milkshakes.”

“Ooh la la.”

You both snort and head back into the car. It's surreal to be buckling back in, joking around with Toby when just hours prior you thought you'd be ending your friendship the moment you opened your mouth.

You can't help but ask, “Are we cool?”

“Yea...we're good. 's not like you fucking asked for the information.” he leans his head against the window and crosses his arms into himself.

“I'm still sorry about it though.”

“Know you are. But it's over now.” the finality of that statement takes the weight off of your shoulders. For the first time in days you can breathe again.

“Thanks for telling me everything...you didn't have to. But I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

His nails dig into his arms, or they would have if they weren't chopped down to the bit.

“I mrrow I-I didn't tell you everything...”

Nope this was over and done with, no more sad and scared Toby. You couldn't handle anymore, guilt had found a friend in discomfrot and the two had set out to eat you alive with every tremor that tore through Toby's body.

“What are you like a child murderer or something?” Giving a laugh to soften the joke.

….

You missed the way Toby tenses and sucks in a breath. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, so hard he's certain you hear it. Is that where you draw the line? Child murder. Of course you had to have some boundaries he couldn't just expect you to be cool with everything he's done. You were sure to figure it out sooner or later no thanks to your boss. But Toby couldn't loose you now. Not when you've been an anchor he hasn't had in such a long time. He feels almost human again when he's with you.

He's been quiet too long, at least he thinks he has. He needs to say something, joke around back and dismiss the notion. You can't know not now – maybe not ever.

“I'm trans!” he hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He stared at you with wide eyes. Why had he said that, that hadn't even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to laugh it off you reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. That small gesture sent a tickle down Toby's spine. It was such an innocent touch, but he was touched starved and knew it.

“I am too goof. Thanks for telling me but why the wait?”

Fuck now he had to think of something. Talking to you always made him so brain dead.

“Mrrow...mrr-you saw me as a man first...I wanted to keep it that way.” maybe he didn't have to make something up, just tell you the half truth.

Brian had questioned him when they got ready for the picnic why he hadn't worn his trans tie dye shirt and he's said he misplaced it. A bold lie to tell someone like Brian, especially since it'd been a gift from his mom. She had sent it in a care package last June. He'd never loose something his mom gave him, at least not so quickly. If he'd been being honest with himself at the time, he was worried about your reaction. Of course he knew you were trans too so not like you'd be one to be a transphobe, but he didn't want you to stop seeing him as a man and only see him as trans.

“Toby, you are a man. Nothing short of you telling me otherwise will change that for me.”

Toby isn't sure when you grabbed his hand but he's aware of your hold when you start to rub along his knuckles. He watches your thumb circle jis joints and pressing a bit into the divots as he takes another deep breath.

He gives his best smile, a lopsided uncomfortable looking thing, “I don't think I like when you call me Toby.”

#A cure for insomnia #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #masky x reader #ticcitoby #ticci toby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #brian thomas x reader #Brian Thomas #masky #creepypasta fanfic

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thebrownssociety · 3 years

Text

Across The Serververse, Chapter 9

About an hour after the last chapter Bugs stood with his arms folded looking critically at the...thing that Marvin and Wile.E were telling him was a car. It looked, to Bugs’s critical eye, very much like a jagged rock. This would be because it was a jagged rock, a deep jagged rock, hollowed out to create a drivers seat, a steering wheel somehow forced into it and four wheels haphazardly slung onto it. In a bid to make it personal to him Pepe and Penelope had painted it orange and were proposing he call it ‘The Carrot.’ Not th most original of names, but there you go.

“So...lemme jus’ get this straight.” Bugs said, slowly. “Ya want me ta actually drive this thing?”

“Of course.” Marvin said, sharply.

“It’s perfectly safe.” Wile.E added. “Trust us. We’re geniuses.”

Despite having the perfect set-up Bugs - with great effort - made no jokes or witty comebacks and instead positioned himself in the drivers seat, popped a helmet on [safety first and all that] put his seatbelt on and then raced off to join the others.

‘Sweet moither of carrots, this is fast!’ Bugs thought to himself as he zipped round corners and up and down the sides of hills. No wonder the Wacky Racers all seemed to look permanently startled!

After a good half an hour Bugs saw his first car and - tightening his grip on the wheel - pushed down the accelerator. The car lunged forward with such speed Bugs was left in the air for about two seconds before being pulled back into his drivers seat by the seatbelt.

He landed upside down and hastened to right himself. When he did manage this the first thing he saw was a cliff coming towards him so he grabbed the wheel and turned away from the cliff somehow managing to end up back on the path. Heart nearly beating out his chest he panted and briefly thought of his house and nice comfy bed before giving himself a slap and readjusting his hands more tightly on the wheel. He WOULD get Sam back even if it killed 'im.

Bugs pressed down the accelerator and zoomed off, this time managing to stay on the track. He was on there a while actually, about 45 minutes before he saw the first car. Annoyingly it wasn't Sam's and Bugs wasn't familiar enough with the world of wacky racers to identify it. It wasn't Penelope Pitstop or Peter Perfect he knew that.

As he tried to overtake, one of the toons (a caveman) leaned over and whacked him on the back of the head with a club. "Hey!" Bugs cried as the caveman tried to batter him senseless. "Cut it out! Yer damagin' me ears!"

The cave man ignored him and Bugs - in a fit of anger - turned the wheel sharply causing the car to whack into the side of the cavemen's (there were two of them) car which, in turn, sent them flying down the side of the cliff.

There seems no need to go over every racer, but suffice to say that Bugs through a mix of intelligence; trickery and, in one if two cases, blunt force, managed to eventually reach Sam. Not that he was exactly hard to miss. The gold that his car was painted saw to that.

"Sam!" Bugs bellowed, trying to be heard over the sound of the engine. "SAM"

The pirate twitched and tightened his hands on the steering wheel, a grim line of determination on his face. In hindsight Bugs should have recognised that look for what it was. Sam was In The Zone. Any attempts to distract him would surely end in tears. However, in that moment, seeing as he was literally *that* far away from him Bugs grabbed a megaphone out of hammerspace and screamed into it. "YOSEMITE SAM!"

Sam - not expecting that - wobbled dangerously and his hands jerked of the wheel sending the car spinning of the road.

Bugs winced and braked making the car shriek as he did so. When the dust had cleared he looked left and right then hopped out the car and ran across to the wreck. "Sam!" He called, worriedly. "Sammy, are you alright?"

There was a long pause, during which Bugs started composing songs for Sam's funeral, then a pale hand grasped the wreckage of the car and - with a dramatic gasp - Yosemite Sam pulled himself out of the wreckage and mustered enough strength to look straight at Bugs and growl. "I hates you."

Bugs took the statement with good grace and, holding out a hand, pulled Sam from the wreckage. "An' dere I was t'inkin' you'd be glad ta see me." He said, teasingly.

Sam glared and, adopting the voice of a posh upper-class englishman [think Mac and Tosh] said. "It may have escaped your here notice, Mr Bunny, but you have just WRECKED MY CAR!"

Bugs blinked and shrugged, giving the easy smile that always worked with Daffy. "Eh...Oi crushed Wile.E under a boulder. He was happy ta see me."

Sam glared and pointed at the smouldering wreck that had once been a car.

Bugs followed his point and, feeling a stab of guilt, mumbled. "Yeah...so dat's not great..."

"IT'S WRECKED!" Sam screeched. "An YOU ah wrecked it!"

"Well..." Bugs murmured as the feeling of guilt intensified. "Technically you're hands were on the wheel-"

Suddenly without warning Sam's eyes welled up with tears and he started blubbing. "Ya don't understand! Tha' car-" He indicated the smoking pile of metal. "-took me 3 weeks ta make! To craft! From scratch! They wouldn't let me race until ah had a car!" 'They' Bugs presumed to be the Wacky Racers. "An' now I've got it it's-ah taken me four an' a half month to claw ma way ta fourth - fourth! - place! This - this! - was gonna be mah chance to crack at least top three! An' now it's gone! An' it's all YOUR FAULT! An' ya not even sorry!"

Bugs's guilt was to string for him to ignore now and he said, aiming for a placating tone. "Look Sam, I'm sorry, oi really am! I didn't know the car meant that much ta ya. We'll-" He thought quickly. "We'll get it fixed! Look, gimme a minute-" Bugs got a flag out his hammerspace and shoved it into the ground. "I claim this planet in the name of Earth!" He said, clearly.

As was expected Marvin appeared a few foot away from him and walked over with his own flag. "I claim this planet in the name of Mars!" He said, briskly. "Now, what is it you want, earth-creature?"

Bugs looked at him with a attitude that said 'really' and nodded his head at Sam. Marvin looked over at Sam and clapped his hands together. "Oh, Yosemite Sam! It's SO good to see you again!"

"Likewise brother." Sam said, gruffly as they hugged. "Now what can you do about my car?"

Marvin frowned and walked over to the wreckage. He made a few calculations and walked round the wreckage about five times all while muttering in Martian. Neither Sam or Bugs were fluent in Martian but they could pick up some words. 'Idiots', 'disaster' and 'time' being the main ones. Well after half an hour Marvin made the final notes on his checkboard and speed-walked over to Bugs and Sam, looking grim. Bugs and Sam immediately sat up and looked interested.

"The car is very nearly a write-off." Marvin announced, in his usual blunt fashion. "How it survived at all is beyond me. However it is fixable." He grimaced. "It'll just take a while."

"Eh...how long's a 'while', Doc?" Bugs asked, conscious that this whole thing was on a time limit.

"How long have we got?" The Martian asked, thrown for a loop.

The rabbit did a quick calculation. It didn't take long. "13 days." He said. "An' den Rhythm does Jones knows what. Give up hopefully. But de fact is we need ta get everyone back within those 13 days or they'll be..." Bugs couldn't even bring himself to say the words, a weird lump forming in his throat.

Thankfully Marvin understood [it helped that he had already been brought up to speed on the stakes offscreen a few chapters ago.] and he said, quickly. "Don't worry it will certainly take less than 13 days. Less than 13 hours probably, if we all work together and you listen to my instructions exactly without any fooling around..." Here he narrowed his eyes at Bugs.

Bugs was not an idiot. The meaning was clear and, although normally he might happily 'fool around', there was to much riding on this for him to do so. Really, strictly speaking, he should probably insist they leave Sam's personal junkyard behind, but he knew if he did that the pirate would never forgive him. And contrary to what people may think Bugs didn't want to upset his on-screen 'enemies' TO much...

"Well den." He said, brightly, clapping his hands together and smiling at Marvin. "Whadda we waiting for? Lets call de oithers and get fixin'!"

#Space Jam 2 Fanfiction #Across The Serververse #Bugs Bunny #Marvin The Martian #Yosemite Sam #Wile.E.Coyote #Wacky Racers #8 more to go

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nobody-knose--archive · 3 years

Text

i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut

-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago

-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday

-neil cicierega real person momence

-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here

-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson

-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that

-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me

-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times

-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album

-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil

-seesaw effect

-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on

-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange

-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like

-"this part sounds pretty cool right"

-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that

-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on

-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time

-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!

-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know

-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro

(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)

-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.

-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised

-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright

-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway

-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation

-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest

-good god that does only make it worse neil

-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever

-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget

-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this

-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one

-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud

-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that

-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop

-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now

-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above

-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.

-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3

-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3

-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that

-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon

-jirls

-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man

-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album

-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care

-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time

-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way

-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird

-iron my life?

-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up

-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least

-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)

-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder

-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega

-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3

-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean

-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about

-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president

-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon

-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album

-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better

-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil

-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it

-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely

-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience

-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.

-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work

-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)

-spinch

-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil

-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!

#lemon demon #spirit phone #pretty sure this is my first bit of spirit phone content on my blog. hi greater lem dem fandom nice to see y'all. go listen to deporitaz #loolin liveblogs #i enjoyed this less for the content the commentary contained & more for the way i handled it. more pleasant than some times ive had #tis i #i havent listened to spirit phone in general in ages. i know why. so this was nice #to the world and back again

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Audio

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: ʲᵘʸᵉᵒⁿ

Genre: romantic fluff cause im fucking feeling it leave me alone + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

Highway To Heaven (smut)

“my love.”

A/N: there is a small time jump between the last chapter and this one so just keep that in mind :)

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

“today, we are all gathered here in the name of the world’s craziest rookie lawyer, for winning a case that had she had nearly no chance of winning--”

“oh, for gods’ sake--” you tug on sunwoo’s sleeve, trying to get him to sit down. “can you sit your ass down--”

“no, let me speak! you’ve done enough speaking in court today--” sunwoo snatches his arm back, the soju in his other hand nearly spilling. eric and chanhee watch on with bright faces, their proud smiles gleaming.

the private room in the barbecue eatery was filled with the entire office. the business case that you’ve been working on for the last two months had concluded this evening with you winning the case, and you couldn’t be happier.

you wish could tell colleagues that most of the quality work was done by the ceo, but he’s just told everybody that the both of you have invested equal amounts of effort into finding every loophole in the case that you could build on.

you were in tables of four in the private room, and the smell of barbecued meat has probably become one with your clothes. you were seated at the same table as chanhee, sunwoo and eric and behind you sat your manager, lee jaehyun, the ceo and kim younghoon, another colleague whom you didn’t know was close to them.

in fact, most of the office was close to everybody. there were only fifteen lawyers in your section, so it wasn’t difficult to form a bond with everybody.

you haven’t seen your mother or his since the dinner about the law firm. the swavroski deal was still sitting in juyeon’s office collecting dust, and juyeon has been going over to your cozy, little apartment outside of the city on fridays and saturdays.

to get away from city life and his responsibilities that he’s still been trying to run from.

you weren’t sure when your parents were going to hunt you down and attempt to shove your responsibilities down your throat as well, but that was a problem to worry about when it comes.

you could still remember the day juyeon announced to his house staff that they could take saturday off with no change in income. the looks on their faces were priceless, and when they found out where he was leaving his extravagant penthouse to, they literally got on their knees to thank you.

not for giving them a day off, but for finally getting juyeon out of the city that’s been wearing thin at his sanity.

it only confirmed how close his house staff was to him, even if he was their boss and they could’ve been treated less than they were. no words could’ve described how proud you were when his kindness was reflected in their gratitude for taking care of him.

“as i was fuckin’ saying...” sunwoo’s last word was garbled and his eyelids began drooping. eric and chanhee began lowering their heads in slight embarrassment, knowing that he was already part drunk. “you!” sunwoo nearly throws his soju glass at you.

“are the craziest rookie ever. three cases plus one impossible case in eight months?! sick.”

“i agree!” your manager calls out from the other table. your eyes catch a glimpse of juyeon giving you the smallest smile. “you’ve exceeded our expectations as a newbie, and i hope you’ve exceeded your own.”

lee sangyeon lifts his glass, and everybody else follows. they cheer in unison, and the attention causes you to turn red in embarrassment. the satisfaction gained from being the person you wanted to be without any repercussions from being a chaebol was sweet on your tongue, and you bask in the overwhelming feeling of pride.

“but wait!” sunwoo shouts again, taking the soju bottle and refilling his own glass. everybody turns their attention back at him after downing the shot that was for you, some of them following suit and refilling their glass as well. you shake your head at chanhee, who was sitting opposite you, casually picking up some meat to munch on. “there’s one more thing i’d like to toast you for!”

“we’ve heard you enough about that stupid bowling match, sunwoo!” one of your colleagues yell out from another table. “we know y/n trashed you!”

you give him a smirk and loudly hurl a “ha!” in his face as he looks down at you from your side. chanhee and eric burst out in laughter, as so does everybody else in the restaurant.

“no! no,” sunwoo’s voice booms through the private room, his hands outstretched now as if asking someone to wait. you sigh, a smile refusing to leave your lips as you soak up the lively atmosphere. you fill up your own glass, ready to down the shot regardless of what he was about to say.

“i want to congratulate you on winning the biggest prize in the office--”

wait what--

“sunwoo--”

“lee. ju. yeon.”

your eyes widen and you choke on your soju, your vision barely catching chanhee and eric aggressively reaching over the table and looking like they were about to beat the fuck out of him.

there was an expectation to be crushed by an awkward atmosphere with gasps and whispers, but there was none of it.

instead, lee jaehyun stands up with his glass and throws a fist into the air.

“I WIN!”

your heart stops.

you look across your table and over to the other, eyes scanning juyeon as he quickly yanks on jaehyun’s blazer and tries to shut him up.

“God damn it!” another colleague from another table exclaims. suddenly, the whole room start to cheer and whistle, and your table looks on with complete confusion.

“it wasn’t me who started the bet this time! he was the only person in the office who was dumb enough to think you two weren’t already together!” lee jaehyun waves juyeon off, relaxed.

what?

“juyeon! did you really think none of us picked up on it? like yeah, sure, you’ve never hooked up with her in the office like, ever, but it was so obvious that you got happier after you worked with her on the case!” someone else calls out to the ceo.

your brain was busy glitching, not catching the proud smiles on your colleagues’ faces.

“why did you people let me bet with lee jaehyun?!” the colleague, who you assumed lost the bet to lee jaehyun, whines out loud.

“nobody fucking told you to!!!!!” everybody else yells at him.

“are you serious?” juyeon finally releases lee jaehyun and looks around his employees, who you know look at him more as their friend than their boss.

“do you treat us as a bunch of idiots?” another colleague calls out. “do you have any idea how gloomy you were every time you came around office with your father?”

“i remember he was so happy the first two years he was working here and then nearing his six months hiatus, he came in everyday with a cloud over his face!”

you watch, entertained, but also a little worried. juyeon had a shy smile pressed on his lips and you could see his ears reddening while his colleagues decoded and exposed the hell out of him.

“ah... i thought you guys never really bothered with me because of my father...” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes now looking down at his feet. lee jaehyun has the audacity to walk over to the colleague who lost the bet, his palm reached out and his fingers asking for his prize.

“just because your father was a shit-show, it doesn’t make you any less of a capable lawyer of your own.”

“and you!” someone yells in your direction. you were scared to listen to what she had to say, but she does it anyway.

“when are we getting our first lee-baby?”

everybody in the room erupts into cheers of encouragement.

you feel the blood rush into your face and ears and your eyes nearly blacked the fuck out at the question. you were so relieved that none of your colleagues were trashing you for being in a relationship with their ceo, and you should probably thank juyeon for being such a kind and reasonable boss.

in reality, everybody didn’t have a problem with you either.

you always tried your best to be nice to everybody in the office, so it must’ve paid off in some sense.

“ah-- ah!” juyeon waves his hands in the air, getting everybody to calm down like he was doing damage control. your table starts teasing you mercilessly, and you couldn’t decide if you were more relieved that nobody hated you, or on edge that the whole office wants a fucking baby when you’ve only been with juyeon a little more than a month. “nobody is getting a baby anytime soon!”

“but can we at least know if the two of you have gotten it on?”

oh, my god.

where is a hole when you need one?

your manager visibly has difficulty keeping his emotions and thoughts off his face, and lee jaehyun just raises a cocky brow at juyeon, a smirk threatening to show up on his lips.

and this was the first time juyeon has frozen completely like a statue.

oh, no.

why didn’t he just deny it--

“i fucking told you so!” a female colleague stands up and her chair slides backwards at the impact.

so many things were happening at once, and you couldn’t believe just how close everybody was with one another for them to be making these bets about their boss behind his back.

“pay up!” she walks to other tables, hands opened up and they slam ten dollar bills into her palm.

“this is so unfair, you obviously got the tip-off from jaehyun!” someone groans while handing her the bill.

“you were involved in the bet?!” you finally yell across the room at your desk neighbour. juyeon takes a step toward jaehyun, and the movement scares him.

“no!” he instinctively takes a step back. “that’s why i didn’t bet! because i already knew!”

you sigh loudly and slam your forehead against the table, not caring about the little specks of oil on the surface.

your colleagues spend the next thirty minutes trying to get you to kiss for show, and so when the ceo did just that, you swore you could’ve gone deaf in that very moment.

though it wasn’t difficult to keep your relationship with the ceo under wraps when you were in the office, it sure as hell felt satisfying when he could drape his arm over your shoulders without worrying about anybody else.

juyeon settles the bill for everybody and he sends them on their way home, thanking them for their hard work for the week and to enjoy their weekend.

your colleagues congratulate the both of you formally, some even telling you the same things his house staff said to you when juyeon first announced his saturday getaways to your place. the both of you wait for everybody to disperse before you hook your arm on his, and you walk to the nearby carpark where his Porsche was sitting in.

“do you need anything from home?” you wait for juyeon to sit himself in the driver’s, watching him check the gears as per routine.

“uh... i still have clothes at your place, right?” he wraps his hands around the steering wheel, and it never fails to amaze you how small his hands make it look.

“pretty sure you have at least three sets sitting in my wardrobe,” you lean back and rest your head against the headrest, looking at him in the corner of your eye. “even if you aren’t satisfied with the amount of clothes you have at my place, we could always go to the nearest shopping mall to get more.”

juyeon thinks it over, hand reaching for the drivers’ stick after turning on the engine. “but the nearest shopping mall from your place is like a fifteen-minute drive away.”

you turn to face him and shoot him a look of disapproval. “you realise that’s literally the whole point of me living there, right? so it’s secluded and quiet and peaceful. and besides, i like going to the mall by public transport. i get to see all the views of the lake every time i’m on a bus,” you turn to look out the window as he drives off. “unlike your stinky-ass penthouse... five-minute drive from office and all you see on the way are buildings, buildings and more buildings.”

“hey--”

“tell me i’m wrong,” you snap your head to look at him, squinting your eyes at him playfully. juyeon sighs in defeat, his lips curled up in a smile.

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

the board quietly creaks under the weight of the both of you, the scent of the lake was the only thing in the air and the breeze does you the honour of brushing juyeon’s soft, undone hair out of his eyes and face. it gave you the perfect view of his side profile, and the stars in the sky just make it all the more worthwhile.

your favourite part about his weekend getaways to your place was watching him forget that he was a chaebol and had responsibilities back in the city. the first time he walked this boardwalk, you could’ve sworn he had tears in his eyes.

but your ceo being a chaebol and a slightly egoistic man, you know he wouldn’t have admitted it even if you asked.

your interlocked hands were swinging gently between the both of you, and your oversized cardigan makes you look extra tiny right next to him. no heels, no formal wear.

these walks were usually done in silence. you were already used to the tranquility of living by the lake and alone, so while it took you some time to get used to having somebody else stay in your small apartment, it took juyeon some time to fully immerse himself in a life he never knew was possible.

you rest your head on his shoulder and let nature’s music surround you. the water gently lapping against the posts that hold up the boardwalk and the rocks near the shore behind you. the chirps of distant crickets. the rhythmic breathing you could feel with every shallow rise of his torso under your head.

“did you ever regret running away from your family?”

you blink to yourself, allowing his question to sink in. your fingers were mindlessly drawing circles on the back of his hand.

“i worried about being self-sustainable when i first ran, but after a year of being a lawyer’s assistant in a small company and watching my bank account increase...” you smile at your own effort. “i’m not gonna lie, it felt really good.”

“i can only imagine.”

“my father was never around because his life was in another country and he only shows up like once in a few years and i was left alone with my mom. i was constantly upset with her because i never felt like she treated me like her child. she was always making me feel like i was just... a talented child. she’d never come to any of my events or whatever i had because she was always so busy... and when i was old enough to start speaking for myself at those lame-ass rich people gatherings, she started using me as a selling point. it was always ‘smart, capable daughter with a bright future’, never ‘beautiful, make-me-proud daughter’. so... running away felt like i was running away from her.”

silence.

“even after i left, she’d find some way to try to get in touch with me and i had no choice but to make a deal with her. i’d still meet her for meals when she was in the country, but i didn’t want her meddling with my life or my finances. the swavroski ownership was supposed to be a gift for my birthday last year, and it felt more like a bribery to get me to go home and be her chaebol princess.”

“you know, if you had signed the deal and became the owner of swavroski, you wouldn’t need to work at the firm. if you signed the deal, you might’ve even met me,” he lets out a small chuckle. “my father is the bureau’s business manager, so it’s highly likely that wherever your mother goes, my father goes too, and if my memory doesn’t fail me, i first met your mother at a swavroski release event two years ago. which tells me that she’s a fan, and she’d probably throw one hell of a party and invite my family if her daughter were to become the owner of swavroski.”

a pathetic smile appears on your lips and you sit up straight, eyes looking up at the sky and you notice juyeon turning to look at you in your peripheral vision.

“then i guess we were meant to cross paths. i was meant to go in a whole circle and end up with you.”

“well,” his voice breaks the peaceful atmosphere between you. you side-eye him, already knowing from his tone that he was going to say something that warrants a punch. “had i met you at the swavroski event, i probably wouldn’t have bothered to talk to you.”

you send a punch into his right arm. he winces with exaggeration, pouting at you and closing his eyes like he was going to cry.

“but then again, had that case not come our way, we wouldn’t have had the chance to work together. had i not snooped around in your house and tried to kill my eyes by staring at the portraits in that dark hallway... none of this would’ve happened.”

you fix your eyes back on the sky, and you look at the faint, but visible white dots in the dark canvas. you were so used to coming here alone, never did you expect yourself to be here with another person so soon after running away, much less a chaebol from a family in the same working circle as yours.

“life has a way of putting you in places you were meant to be... and i guess, in my case, it’s with y--”

your heart stops.

you blink at him, who was on one knee, with a ring in a box in his hands, and his eyes shining under his hair.

“uh--” you stammer like you always do when you’ve got no vocabulary in your head.

“i would’ve called whatever you just said ‘bullshit’ if the last two months didn’t happen, but it did. and i meant every single thing i’ve said to you since i met you. since the first night we slept together.”

“that’s not a great thing to say in a proposal--”

“let me have my moment--” juyeon snorts in embarrassment. you suck your lips between your teeth, watching him gather his nerves. it was so strange seeing him flustered or nervous because that image of him was so far away from the man you first saw in his office.

you remember he deprived you of your right to even ask questions.

“i meant it when i asked you to stay with me. your mother knows me, so since i have her approval and she hasn’t hired a sniper to shoot me in the head...”

oh...

“will you marry me?”

Part 9: All Time Low

#timetohajima #juyeon #i DIED #my HEARTEU #lee juyeon #juyeon imagines #juyeon imagine #juyeon fanfic #the boyz imagine #the boyz fanfic #drama #chaebol #chaebol juyeon #the boyz

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years

Text

haikyuu!! music idol au (seijoh and shiratorizawa vers.)

hello hello! now for the groups with seijoh and shiratorizawa! if you like this why not check out music idol au karasuno vers.

CROWN ENTERTAINMENT

okay so basically this is now the entertainment company for the groups FALCON and KING

HAHAHS THE NAMES I REALLY CAN'T GUYS I'M SORRY THE NEXT POST ABOUT NEKOMA AND FUKURODANI ARE GONNA BE MUCH WORSE

okay but yes

they're one of the biggest names in the country and their groups have been around for quite some time

washijo is CEO

they're known to be very hard to get into because all of their idols are trained to be polished at whatever they do

but all of their releases are top quality

so lets get into the groups !!

KING - seijoh

okay so KING has 8 members and most of their comeback concepts are pretty bubblegum pop and boy-next-door

our leader for this group is oikawa of course

he's also wanted to be an idol for so long and trained really hard for it

• he managed to pass the auditions but his trainee years were hard on him because of all the expectations and work

luckily he befriended iwa who was also a struggling trainee

they spent years helping each other out and leaning on each other for support until their debut came

oikawa's the all-around vocalist, visual, and dancer so he's almost always in the center

the kind who nails all the notes while busting out the hardest dance moves

he's also multilingual because he wants to talk to a variety of his fans

everything he does seems so natural but in reality he practices so hard that iwa has to drag him to bed

iwa's our main rapper and main dancer of the group

his audition tape of him dancing was a bit embarassing because he was wearing a godzilla sweater and his hair was gelled up

everyone likes to bring it out from time to time

his fans also like sending him anything godzilla

his rapping is pOWERFUL and he can also beatbox really well

he also leads the dance breaks in performances

everyone thought he was scary until oikawa accidentally called him iwa-chan in a radio show and now everyone calls him iwa-chan

while oikawa is the leader, iwa is the one who manages everyone and makes sure no one gets lost when they go to awards shows

matsukawa and hanamaki were trainees that came in later and they became friends because they were roommates

hanamaki saw matsukawa taping printed out pictures of memes on the wall beside his bed and immediately knew they would be friends for life

and they were

they're notorious for sneaking food into their dorms and also picking on oikawa

they're kind of like an inseparable duo especially since hanamaki is on vocals and matsukawa is on rap

they have a lot of onstage moments and fans love how playful they are

they kind of improvise a bit sometimes when it comes to dance moves which makes washijo want to pull his hair out but fans like it so :/

they're the oldest members but they still call iwa and oikawa 'mom and dad'

they like doing weird shit to hanamaki's hair and taking videos of it

the ‘what’s a contract? never heard of it’ duo basically

yahaba's like the resident beautiful guy apart from oikawa

his voice is really melodious and he's often the one harmonizing with the high part

also sUCH a fLIRT

camera: *is directed at him*

yahaba: *blows a kiss*

matsuhana try to get him into their pranks on oikawa but he's too much of a goody two shoes

likes to film his skincare routine for the fans

secretly oikawa’s favorite junior

kyoutani auditioned for CROWN because he thought they were forming a hip-hop group or something edgy but no he was put into KING and he has to be around softies

he was desperate to get kicked out at first until iwa convinced him that he could still keep his look

they gave up on making him smile or look bright on cameras and said that if he's going to glare at least make it sexy

only listens to iwa and always stands next to iwa during award shows

kindaichi and kunimi are their most treasured juniors and they'll do anything to protect them

both of them are vocalists and even though they don't often sing the melodies or hit the high notes, they're great harmonizing

actually knew of kageyama back in their auditioning days and were lowkey jealous of him

kindaichi is the sweetest junior he's always the one giving the members water and making sure they're alright

kunimi just silently observes the entire time and barely says anything but he'll often approach iwa for pointers when it comes to dancing

they were super young when they debuted and attended high school together in between practice

their seniors surprised them by coming to their graduation and even performing at the ceremony

both of them aren't as good as their fellow members yet but kindaichi works hard to be able to earn a few more lines in their songs

kunimi doesn't show much effort but he secretly likes to learn songwriting and music production because his dream is for KING to perform one of his songs

FALCON - shiratorizawa

another group that debuted about a year or two before KING

it is a POWERHOUSE of talent

also pretty much the OG group for most fans that inspired other upcoming groups

a lot of their concepts are centered around a mature gentleman image

idk what im saying but i'd compare them to super junior pretty much

they also do a lot of edgy concepts

ushijima's the leader of the group plus main rapper

he was actually inspired to become a rapper after watching another idol's performance

tbh he never expected to debut with a group but he had grown attached to some of his fellow trainees

he's also really talented at writing and producing songs

super stoic, even in front of the camera, but fans love his attempts at humor

tendou's like their main dancer and rapper

when he was younger people said his dancing looked weird because tendou could do those really cool, almost jerky movements

when washijo saw his audition tape he was like 'hmm we could use that'

thats because FALCON is super big on choreography, especially the ones that look like all the members are creating this huge other thing just by using movement

tendou pretty much leads the dance breaks all the time and he looks super serious and intense

he likes saying the most random, funny things during interviews

sometimes you'll catch him dancing by himself when they’re just waiting for results in award shows

so many conspiracy videos as to whether or not tendou has joints

now we have our shirabu kenjiro

this boy is like a prodigy he was destined to be recruited by CROWN and to end up in FALCON

the more i spell out these names the more i see how absurd they all look i'm sorry

tendou likes to call him his 'beloved junior'

he's as serious as ushiwaka is but with sASS

is known for sassing out interviewers and show hosts when he can tell that they're making up bullshit and now everyone's scared of him

he's main vocals and visuals

his voice is like a really nice baritone and he's very powerful with his singing that people don't question whether or not he lipsyncs

actually gets the most lines in their group

he likes to challenge the limits of his contract and even cut his own bangs and that's why they're Like That

he ended up getting chewed out by washijo for it

ya boi semisemi is out here being a dAncE gOD

he can learn choreography really quickly and in variety shows the hosts always challenge him to learn another group's choreo by looking at it once

so far he has not lost

everyone in his team cheers him on

also basically the group's main choreographer. he'll lowkey get mad at someone who forgot the choreo but teach them anyway

interacting with fans makes him so happy and soft he treasures every letter he receives and likes giving out gifts during fanmeets

he keeps his room really neat and likes to display the presents he receives from fans

also main vocalist in the group but just gets a line or two

his real skill though are opening dance performances during music award shows

he, tendou, and goshiki slay every opening performance and its amazing

reon is the last main rapper of the group and basically The Mom of the group

he's the one calming everyone down and checking up with people before they perform

his rapping sounds really smooth and very close to how he speaks normally so he shines most in the b-side tracks of their album

he had a lot of struggles passing auditions because most companies would discriminate because of appearance but washijo saw a lot of potential in him

he likes to speak out about the discrimination in terms of appearance in the music industry

everyone in FALCON supports him

lastly we have goshiki the precious little maknae of the group

everyone dotes on him because he was a skinny child when he debuted with the group

goshiki's like the legendary maknae who could do pretty much anything

he's main vocalist, dancer, and visuals

when he started out he was always super active and full of initative as a trainee

he trained super hard just to debut with FALCON because he looks up to ushijima

like shirabu, he gets a ton of lines and sings a lot during the chorus

when he graduated everyone from FALCON attended and he treated them all too lunch

after every comeback tendou's jus like 'our little baby goshiki is growing up'

i basically wrote him as jungkook from bts didn't i?

additional hc’s for funsies

oikawa was actually supposed to debut much earlier with FALCON but he had grown attached to his fellow trainees (iwa and matsuhana) and wanted to be in a group with them

FALCON and KING have a small rivalry ongoing to see who can get the most views in one day during every comeback video that the members do all these crazy things to get their fans to stream their comebacks

one of them was matsuhana promising to release a rare picture of kyoutani smiling

FALCON has Boardgame Fridays where they just play boardgames all night and it’s super fun and precious because goshiki gets super competitive

also all of his seniors tried to get him drunk after his graduation and goshiki did in fact get drunk and ended up spilling some secrets about how shirabu cuts his bangs on instagram live

FALCON and KING love having dance-off sessions with each other and the music they always choose is ‘Crazy in Love’ from the White Chicks movie

the reon and semi have a mukbang series on instagram live and sometimes yahaba and kindaichi join in

ushijima allegedly wrote and produced a song about the joy of farming but washijo rejected it from appearing on the album because it was weird but thanks to tendou spilling about it, fans demanded to hear the song and ushijima performed it in one of their concerts

kunimi also wrote a song about that was supposedly about a loving a bad boy despite being a nice girl and when people asked what his inspiration was he just said ‘kyouhaba’

haikyuu!! music idol au series: karasuno vers., seijoh and shiratorizawa vers., nekoma and fukurodani vers.

#haikyuu!! music idol au #haikyuu!! music idol au seijoh and shiratorizawa vers.#hnghhh it is DONE #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #yahaba shigeru #kyoutani kentarou #kindaichi #kunimi #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou satori #semi eita #shirabu kenjiro #reon ohira #goshiki tsutomu

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smvt-cemetery · 3 years

Text

Ellie’s unlikely encounter.

I was on my way back home from school having to cut through various alleyways so as to avoid being mugged and raped in this hell hole of a city, murders and thievery are so common here I always keep a can of pepper spray on me but anything can happen in this city when the height of these buildings force us to live in the shadows; I was walking my usual route which involves cutting through a few alleyways before I feel comfortable enough walking the main straight back to my house, when I passed by the usual restaurant with the usual dishwasher cursing the head chef as he takes out the spilling trash bags everything seemed pretty normal until a sharp whistle shot through the air “Heeyyyy pumpkiiinn! Whatcha doin’ walkin’ around in a lil’ skirt like that!” “Must be waitin’ for the janitor to snatch her up!” “Maybe she’s headin’ to uncle Roy’s place!” “Maybe daddy’s got a thing for his lil’ girl!” “Is that it, pumpkin? Daddy got you wearin’ his favorite skirt for em’?” “Oh, come on, baby! You can be my lil’ baby girl all you want, I’ll make sure you get all the attention you deserve!” “Awww, come on, baby, I’ll be your daddy from now on, I’ll protect you baby!” It was a group of clowns with bad makeup and an even worse sense of fashion, I couldn’t get a good count of how many of them there were, as soon as they started flicking their tongues and humping the air I bolted out of the alley, they howled and hooted at me as they set off to chase me down, I go down the Main Street but traffics busy so I cut the corner the my right, lights and horns whirl into one another, screaming for help but nobody listens, nobody messes with these guys, I cut into another alley hoping to lose them, I can hear them shouting for me, I pull down whatever I can to the ground to slow them down, they’re hot on my tail, my heart’s way ahead of my feet, Im running out of breath, I make a move to cut a corner only to swept away in the arms of one of the clowns grabbing me by the waist, I kick my legs and pound his back screaming “Somebody help!!! Please!! Somebodyyyy!!! Ugh!” He slams me up against the wall, I reach for my pepper spray but they grab my wrist and pry it out of my hands, I close my eyes and look at the ground praying to god he hears me, one of the clowns blurts out to me “aww, don’t look so down babe’s, we’ll take real good care uh’ya, you can even call me daddy!” They all burst into laughter, my face turns sour trying to hold back the tears and that’s when I hear his voice pierce through us all, our spines shuddering like a breeze through trees “What’s this all about! Why must I be disturbed?!” His voice high in pitch and scratchy in texture I’ve only ever heard stories of him but from the looks on the clowns faces they’ve clearly fucked, “Uhh, we was jus playin’ with a lil’ piece, boss, see? She ain’t nothin’-“ he cuts him off “Nothing! Apparently it's enough to ruin my beauty sleep! Since when do you have any right to tell me the value of such things!” “Uh-boss I swear I din’t mean nothin’ by it, we was jus playing with a lil’ meat we happen t’ see passin’ by-“ “AND MY PEACE IS TO BE SACRIFICED FOR YOUR DEGENERACY!” “Uh-I’m sorry boss! I’m sor-“ PAWP! The entire skull of the clown pops like a balloon, gallons of blood and the residue of shattered skull and meat slapping against the pavement, his fallen body twitching for the mercy of god, my entire body jolts with static shooting through me in every direction at once, the other clowns shudder but they know better than to run off “The last thing I need is a pathetic-sorry-little sap! As for the rest of you out of my sight, NOW!” “YES BOSS!”

The clowns bolt for the other way. I sit there with my arms wrapped around my knees close to my chest trembling with my eyes sealed shut, praying I’ve truly been spared just now. I’ve never seen a gun in person let alone watching a man’s head blown to fucking bits, not even in this rut of a fucking city… tears trickle down my cheeks, that’s when I hear another voice from a woman, her pitch really high with a smooth texture “Awww, look watchou’ve done, big daddy, you’ve scared the poor lil’ thing!” The man with the gun snaps back “O’shut up Harley! Now’s not the time for your pseudo-maternal bickering! Go back inside!” Harley shoots back “Oh, mister big boy gettin’ all worked up all the sudden, this ain’t like you! I told you I’d give you a back rub butchya wanna be in your feelings, well look atcha now daddy! Ain’t so happy now, are ya!” I sink my head in my arms, whimpering, he snaps back “Shutupshutupshutup! I’ve had enough of your voice, Harley! AHHHHHHHHH! Why of all days does this trash need to disturb me!!! Rrrrghhhhh” He locks his bulging eyes on me, his back arched, his chest heaving, a disheveled smile across his face, slightly foaming from the corners of his mouth, his face completely whitened with red lips smeared across his face, black eye shadow, green hair, adorning a dark purple suit well tailored against his slim frame, white gloves over his hands, a yellow vest, a white button down, a green tie, black and white dress shoes-he speaks to me “Oh, where are my manners? Darling, I must apologize, allow me to introduce myself! I! Am a long standing foe of the man in black with cute little ears, the people look upon me as a monster but truly they misunderstand the quarrel between the bat and I as we merely suffer through a rough patch as so often happens between such passionate lovers, but we will make up! Oh! We will make up, you’ll see! But for you, darling, you may know me as,” he curtsies “The Joker.” “And I’m Harley!” “And she is to go back inside and shut her fucking trap!” He stomps his foot and shoots her a glare, Harley stands her ground, leaning forward and perching her lips as she observes her nails “Yea, yea, yea, bring her up already, I wanna brush her hair!” Still trembling with my knees to my chest Joker looks back at me with a fat grin on his face “Now dear, there‘s no need to fear, I assure you those little goons will no longer be of any trouble to you, should they dare cause you any trouble they’ll be a gelded lot, you’ll see!” He lends me his hand, I take his hand… after almost being gang raped only for the men to be driven away by the luck of god I feel an urge to express my gratitude to Joker… I reach in my pocket and pull out my lucky coin, “h-here you go, sir, it’s my lucky coin… I’d like to thank you…” “AW! Would you look at that, Harley! She’s given me a coin! And a lucky one at that! My! Thank you, darling, I shall treasure this coin through to my final moments, oh! What a sobbing mess they’ve put you through, let’s bring you in and get you all dolled up.”

They bring me into their home “This is no home! It is our lair!” I mean, their lair “Our lair!” our lair, Harley launches herself onto me, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing tightly, she easily towers over me by more than a head suffocating me with her boobs, I return the favor and she says “Gee, you’re quite the little woman, aren’t ya? Ehhh, we gotta do somethin’ about these clothes, what are ya goin’ to a funeral? Come on, step outta the clothes, baby, we gotta get ya into somethin’ sexy.” I didn’t expect to literally be dolled up, I didn’t know what to expect, I certainly didn’t expect to strip in front of strangers, my, I’m still a virgin... I mean, I’m no total prude, I’m familiar with my rubbing technique and I’ve fingered myself ‘a plenty but, but having the hands of others on me, no... I’ve never been touched by anyone else, she leads me in the bathroom, tiles among the walls are chipped and misplaced, the mirror on the wall massive though littered with punches, the light stretching from wall to wall close to the ceiling stark blue, I stand there motionless, “Come on! What are ya waitin’ for? What, I can’t see ya naked? Gimme those clothes, baby.” I, I, I strip my jacket off, I unbutton my blouse and let it fall from my shoulders, I kick off my shoes, only my bra, my skirt and leggings remain “Come on, darling, we gotta see it all.” I unclasp the hem of my skirt, shimmying my hips side to side as I let it fall to the ground... “Come on, don’t be shy, baby, mama’s gotta see what you’re workin’ with.” ... oh god... what would my parents say if they saw me like this? I.. I, I unhook my bra letting my breasts hang free, the air extra chilly swaying against my exposed skin... my, my nipples... they harden “Wow, checkout the udders on my little girl!” My face is flushed with rosy cheeks, my, my vagina, my vagina feels tingly and warm, my thighs feel fuzzy, my head’s so light, I feel embarrassed but, but... no.. no, no, no, this is wrong, this is... “Come on, baby, just one more piece to go, we’re almost there.” I slip my thumbs beneath the waistband of my panties, my head spinning as I watch my panties slip past my knees to the floor beneath my feet, my, my hole completely exposed to this stranger, I instinctively place a hand over my mound and my arm across my breasts; Harley disarms me and turns me to the mirror facing my naked body shattered in the reflection with a hole where my face should be, “So ya got a lil’ chonk on ya, so what? It’s your body, sweet pea, that’s all that counts!” She pecks my cheek “we ain’t gonna hurt ya, come now, it’s time for a bath.”

Steam rises from the water in the bathtub, “Awright now, come on sweet pea, got the water all nice and hot for ya.” I step into the water and gasp as I turn to see Harley stripping herself bare “What? Didn’t think I’m gonna get my clothes all wet did ya? Don’t be silly now, mama’s got a rockin’ bod, don’t she?” She cocks her hip to the side, making her boobs jiggle a little, she smiles at me, I blush and nod my head in agreement, turning my head so as to hide my licking lips... she steps in with me, my back facing her, she sits herself down “Come on, baby, come to mama, no need to make this awkward, mama just wants to clean her sweet lil’ baby.” I lower myself to the surface of the tub, lightly groaning as I lean myself in her arms, her boobs pressing against my back, so soft, so full, so big, my heart beating against my chest being so exposed and close with another woman, a woman, especially with a woman such as Harley “Mama!” mama... Mama cups water in her hands and pours it onto my hair, she doesn’t stop until my hair is damp, she sweeps my hair back away from my face, I slowly melt in her hands, I, I’ve never been this close with a woman before, my god... Harley reassured me in a lower tone “there, there, sweet pea, mama’s gonna make everything just right.” She soaps up her hands, she slides her hands underneath my arms, reaching around for my boobs, she grabs my breasts “my oh my, sweet pea, little baby’s really got some stacks her, huh? Mama’s gonna take real good care of ya, mama’s got a lotta love for ya.” She grabs a handful of my breasts, drawing her fingers back until they reach my nipples, she massaged my nipples, slightly pinching them, my head slowly receding back, I whimper, mama tells me “you really got some nice tits on ya, no wonder those nasty men wanted to get their hands on ya.” She kneads my tits with slow and tender motions, “but that’s awright, sweet pea, you’re with us now, our little girl, our little baby, daddy and mommy have been trynna get pregnant for a while now, but seems like there were other plans for us, we got you now, sweet pea, our sweet lil’ baby, ain’t no one gonna lay a hand on you and get away with it.” She leans into my ear, she licks my ear, she nibbles on my lobe, she flicks her tongue deep in my ear, “Sometimes I call him Mr. J, sometimes Daddy, but never Joker, he don’t like that, and neither do I, only the dogs call him ‘Joker’ he’d love for you to call him daddy, as for me, I’m mama, and I’m mommy, got it?” I purr to her “Yes, mama...” mama trails one of her hands down across my tummy and in between my legs, butterflies swarming within me, she massages my pussy, she rubs my clit “You ever have anyone touch you here before?” “No...” “You’re safe in mama’s hands, sweet pea.” She massaged the simp of my pussy, sliding a finger in me, I’m so, sooo wet, my entire body buzzing with heat, “How’s that, sweet pea?” “S-sooo good, mama, mmm...” she slides another finger inside my hole, I can hardly catch my breath, my thighs squeeze her hands, my toes curl, I hold onto her legs, she quickens the pace of her in and out motions, curving her fingers toward my belly, my hips gyrating against her palm, my eyes rolling in the back of my head, biting my lip, water splashing as she fucks me with her fingers, my pussy so fucking wet, wetter than I’ve been in my entire life, fuck, fuuuuccckkk, my pussy contracts around her fingers, she licks, sucks and nibbles on my neck, static shooting throughout my body in waves, my whimpering turns into crying, “fuck, mama, fuck! Fuck me, mama, fuck me, I’m yours mama, fuck me, please! Oh, fuck mama!” She uses her other hand to rub my clit and I’m completely lost now, my vision blurs, I don’t know if I’m fainting, am I blacking out??? My entire body convulses in her hands, I want nothing more than to lie in mama’s hands, I want nothing more than to let mama take care of me, my god, I can’t believe my own words, how could I be saying this, how could I harbor such thou-“ohhhh fuuckkk, o-oh-oh my-oh my god, ma-mama, fuck-fuck me mama” mama really gives

it to me hard, my entire wracking in her arms, water rippling all around us, my pussy so hot, my head buzzing, are those stars? Oh my, they, they must be stars, those are stars, oh my... “Sweet pea enjoyed her little homecoming gift?” “Y-yesss, mama.. thank you, thank you...” “There ain’t no need to thank me, sweet pea, mama wants to make sure her lil’ baby gets the proper treatment she deserves, now come on, time to get ya in some clothes!”

Mama takes a towel and dries us both off, being extra tender enough to pat me dry on my face, my boobs, my pussy... mama wraps a towel around my head, grabs my cheeks and squishes them together, pecking my lips a thousand times. Walking back into the main room daddy was speaking to several men on their knees before him bowing their heads, he was shouting at them “If anyone sees you take out their eyes, do you understand!” “You got it boss!” “Out with you now!” They scurried through the door. “I wuv you awready, sweet pea! Now! About those clothes... here, try this on!” Mama dresses me up in a red and black plaid skirt nowhere near my knees, a button down blouse with my sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a few buttons at the top loosened, red-wine colored socks coming up to my knees, leather wrist cuffs around the obvious, black-leather shoes with a buckle in the center, and, uhm.. no panties… After having been finger fucked by the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen and dressing up in this skimpy outfit I’ve never felt like such a slut before and yet… I like it… mama slips a ring on my right middle finger flashing her own ring on the same finger of her own hand, “See! Now we really are mother and daughter! Till death do us part!” Mr. J snaps “Don’t be surprised if you find yourself wanting to sever her tongue! I may even conspire with you!” “Daddy would be lost without my tongue.” Mama winks at him “Now time for the best part! The makeup!” Mama makes my face as white as hers, my lips are now red but not as wide as hers making my lips look small and plump, the skin around my eyes darkened to black with purple atop my eyelids, she ties my hair in a bun letting a generous amount of strands hang low, my nails are now a dark shade of green, my arms glowing with glitter “We’ll worry about ur hair later, and here, you’ll need this” mama hands me a gun with a waist strap... I’m visibly shaken as I’ve never handled a gun before, dear god, am I going to behave to shoot-ki-kill someone?... “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get the hang of it, mama’s gonna teach everything ya need to kno! Doesn’t she look cute with a pistol, daddy?” Looking in the mirror I don’t recognize the gir-or-the woman… I’ve become… I start to panic at the thought of my family, where are they, oh, how worried they must be of me, what would they think if they saw me like this, I must go back, I can’t stay here, what am I doing! “My parents! My family! I can’t be here, I have to go back, what about my parents? What would they think if they saw me like this?” Mr. J cocks his pistol “We are your parents now, darling. Those people won’t be of any bother to you any longer.” Mama grabs my cheeks and leans her face close to me “I know how scary this must be sweety; one minute you’re almost gang raped, and the next you’re part of a whole new family, but don’t worry, ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of with us, we’ll look after you, sweet pea, we ain’t gonna let ya rot.” I stammer for words “b-but, I-I-I must go back, what would they do without me, they must be worried by now, wondering where I am, I-I-I-“ mama locks her lips with mine, I groan in her mouth, she slips her tongue in my mouth sucking on mine, she grabs me the hips and pulls me close to her, she runs her hands up to my tits, she pulls her lips away “it’s okay, sweet pea.”

Mama lays me back onto a bed, my bed, mama lies next to me, kissing me, pressing her body against mine, sucking on my tongue, biting my lip, licking my ear, sucking my earlobe, I reach for her tits, her voluptuous, milky tits, kneading them deeply, she sucks on my neck, leaving her mark, groping my boobs, pinching my nipple, daddy’s lowers himself down between my legs waiting no time devouring my pussy, licking my clit and fucking me with his long fingers, curving them towards my belly, my back arches as I wrap my legs around his head, my sopping pussy making creamy noises from his finger fucking, mama moves down to my chest sucking on my nipple flicking it with her tongue, daddy spits on his finger and slides it in my butthole, I didn’t expect that, I especially didn’t expect to enjoy it more than it hurt, I didn’t even feel any pain, I only felt my pussy grip daddy’s tongue tight as he slipped it in me, my pussy was fucking soaked having him finger my shit-hole and devouring my pussy at the same time, I’m crying for more like the little slut I am, wanting mommy and daddy to never end this rapturous pleasure, that’s when mommy flips us over so that I’m on top of her “suck on mommy’s tits, baby, get your vitamins in” yes ma’am! I ravage mommy’s tits with my sopping mouth, kneading them really fucking hard for all her milk, gritting her nipple between my teeth, her moaning echoes through my body like the overture of a symphony, her milk so warm and sweet, fuck! I love mommy’s tits! Daddy gets to work on devouring my little shit hole fucking my pussy with his fingers, fucking me so hard I bite down on mommy’s tits screaming and crying and praying for daddy to fuck me forever and ever, daddy slaps my ass making me squeal like a whore, mommy moans pushing the my face deep in her tits, “mmmm, just like that baby, fuck, mommy loves that, ohhh” daddy’s fucking my push so hard I can’t take it anymore, my toes curling, my entire body buzzing with the tides of my orgasm washing over my body, whimpering in mommy’s tit as I cum all over daddy’s fingers, Mr. J teases me “What a messy little slut out little baby is” he slaps my ass. I let mommy’s tit plop out of my mouth with a wide grin across my face struggling to come back down to earth, “She’s had such a long day, daddy, nothin’ like a good night’s rest to feel new again. Come on, sweet pea, I’ll tuck you in.”

After tucking me in they lean in to kiss me goodnight. Mr. J asks me “Ellie’s quite an adorable name, but how about Pumpkin? Would you like to be our little pumpkin?” “I would love to be you r little pumpkin…” “awww she’s one ‘a us now! Sweet dreams, pumpkin!” “Sweet dreams, darling” “thank you mama and daddy, goodnight... I love you...” “awwww, we love you all the same!” They peck me a thousand more times all over my face before leaving me be in my new bed, in my new home, my new parents, my new family… what a day...

#leonysia #leonysian #leonysiancomplex #leonysiancock #leonysiannymph #leonysianphilosophy #leonysianerotica #leonysiancore #leonysianaesthetic #leonysianlifestyle #leonysianfashion #leonysianmood #leonysianvendetta #leonysiandeath #leonysianresurrection #leonysianatonement #leonysianreprisal #leonysianprose #leonysiandoppelganger

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authorized-trash · 4 years

Text

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 4: That Moment When Fate Ships You With Four Other People

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Five

Content Warnings: Mentioned character death, vomit mention, self deprecation, panic attack, cursing, (tell me if there's more)

Chapter Summary:

That moment when you need to find yet another boyfriend to add to your collection, *sigh*.

Word Count:

2,500+

Note:

I was hit with inspiration for some reason, so here’s this chapter, and the next one will be up in a little bit, I just got to format it for tumblr. Sorry its been awhile, this story is kinda just, I update whenever my mind decides to.

Everyone over on Ao3 has taken well to this chapter and the next chapter, so I hope you all do too!

(Incase you were wondering, i changed up the chapter titles, i got tired of trying to come up with different alliterate phrases, so im just gonna be dumb with the titles as;ldfkj)

- -

Damian hadn’t even noticed when he slumped to his knees. Tears dripped from his cheeks and landed onto his outstretched palm. Remy’s eyes widened and he quickly moved to get on Damian’s level.

“Dee? You okay there? Did you not know?” He asked, gently taking Damian’s trembling hands in his own. Damian let him, too shocked to take them back.

“N-no? What? How am I supposed to deal with four Remy, I already lost one I can’t- I can’t lose four!” Damian said, staring blankly at his hands, at the strings he was now aware of. He could feel them tug and twitch as his soulmates moved. They were all pretty close to one another, stretching in the same direction. Figures, they had probably met up by now.

Damian was the outcast.

“You aren’t going to lose them,” Remy said, an edge to his voice, “Damian you won’t lose them, you were jus- just unlucky the first time, babes, I promise. This time will be better.”

“No Remy you don’t understand, they’re paired with me, they’ll die, I’m bad luck or something-”

“Damian Janus Lyer, don’t. Don’t say that. You’re not. I know you, this isn’t you, you’re just tired and not thinking clearly. This is a good thing. You aren’t bad luck. You aren’t, and babes, if I hear you say that one more time I’m going to throw some punches,” Remy said. Damian gave a watery chuckle, and Remy smirked.

“Listen, you are in no state to go in there right now. Why don’t we ditch for a little while and go get some food or somethin’”

Damian nodded, moving to stand. He dusted himself off. He looked down at his strings. The four colors were all lovely, red, blue, indigo, and purple. The colors were deep and ethereal in a magicky sort of way.

Without thinking he strummed a finger across them, and startled when three out of the four tugged back. The last one, purple, started vibrating in a way that one would think meant the person on the other side was running their finger across the line.

More tears gathered in Damian’s eyes. He was connected with these people. They were his soulmates. They were there, on the other side, waiting. The thought of them being disappointed weighed heavy, but in this small moment he could only think of the opportunity that was given to him.

Remy watched this with a small smile, ruffling Damian’s hair as they began to walk off campus to his car.

Damian followed, hurriedly wiping the tears from his eyes and smoothing his hair down.

“Listen, babes, you pick where we eat, and I’ll pay.”

Damian shrugged, “Thanks.”

“What? No arguing that you’ll pay this time?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You offered and I’m too emotionally confused to argue.”

His voice was thick with tears and still wobbled every once in a while, but he had managed to compose himself well enough by now. He slid into the car seat next to Remy.

He made a point not to touch the strings, not wanting them to move. He didn’t want to seem needy or something. He relaxed fractionally, attempting to gaige some personality from the strings. Indigo (Or was it navy? It was rather dark, nearly black. It was decidedly not black when reflecting light), was shaking around as if someone was writing with that hand. Red was pretty still, expect for a few swoopy movements, as if the person was flailing their arms around. Purple was shaking slightly but otherwise not moving, and blue was fluttering around like crazy, and Damian was certain the person was messing with their string.

For a moment he wondered what his string looked like to them. He hoped it was yellow, maybe gold. He liked those colors. Green would also be nice, but he doubted that was the color, seeing as his last soul string was gre-

Damian’s breath hitched, and that feeling of loss hit him hard, and he clenched his hands into fists. Remy glanced over at him, but didn’t comment.

He was so caught up in this new soulmate business he had forgotten he had already had one. One he had lost. The string he had grown up with, the one he had talked about with friends in grade school. The one that appeared on his fragile little hands when he was born. The part of his soul that he grew to know.

The one he knew would shake wildly sometimes, or tug painfully at others. The one he would console with gentle strokes late at night when he would wake up to it trembling. The one that would do the same for him, that had always been a comfortable weight throughout his recovery as a kid.

He would never meet the other end. Never know who it was.

They could have died suddenly or painfully, and here they were, forgotten by their soulmate a month later due to the reassigning. Damian was so ready to forget them, and the guilt of that was weighing on him so hard he wanted to vomit.

He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to steady his breathing, ignoring the light feeling of the dangling frayed string on his hand.

He closed his eyes and lied to himself about how bad it hurt.

“It is a very lovely shade of yellow,” Roman commented from where he was laying on the couch. He was looking up towards the ceiling, his hand containing his string collection in front of his face as he examined the sun colored string as it swung with the others.

“It reminds me of a sunflower when hit by the sun juuusst right,” Patton said, curled up on Roman’s chest. He was also looking at Roman’s hand, messing with his own strings absentmindedly.

Logan was sitting in the arm chair across the room, having stayed home. They all had decided to take the day off of responsibilities, this was a large occasion, after all. He had a notepad on his lap and was writing down everything he could about the situation. He had a knack for writing information about anything and everything down. He liked to be well documented.

Virgil was curled up on the floor, scrolling through Tumblr in the way he does when he’s thinking, and not reading a single thing. If it looked like art and was colorful, he reblogged it without thinking. He was more focused on the way the new string on his hand looked as he occasionally typed.

They all sat around in domestic silence, preparing for the long talk they were going to have to have soon.

They all noticed it, despite no one saying it aloud. That feeling of something missing. They grew up with it, but had by now gotten so used to that feeling of wholeness. Now that it was gone, so suddenly? They didn’t know how to feel about it, really. It’s easy to lose something you didn’t get a chance to know or experience, but getting a taste of something amazing to have it disappear was near torture.

“I think it appears to resemble the yellow paint Roman likes to get all of the carpet,” Logan said, lips upturning slightly at Roman’s upfronted sound.

“Nah, it def’ looks like… I don’t know, snakey,” Virgil said.

“Snakey?” Roman asked, laughing slightly, “What about the color looks like a slithering reptile?”

“Uh, snakes equal yellow, duh? Same as seven being green,” Virgil rolled his eyes as if it were obvious.

Patton laughed, “Kiddo, seven is pink.”

“Seven is seven? It cannot be either pink or green, it is a number,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Just let them be weird, Specs, with their weird color assigning,” Roman laughed, sitting up. Patton yelped as he slid off the couch.

“Listen, I’m just saying its snake yellow,” Virgil said, “But if you wann-”

Virgil was caught off as a particularly hard twinge came from the yellow string. He looked around at the others, and noticed they had felt it too. Up until this point the string was pretty chill, if a little shaky. Logan had suggested earlier it was due to shock.

As crazy as gaining a new string out of the blue was a wild, gaining four strings must have been insane. Virgil pitied the poor person, it probably scared the shit out of them.

Without thinking, he reached forward and ran his index finger over the string a few times, showing that he was here.

“This is so exciting! We have another soulmate to hunt down!” He waved his arms around animatedly. He looked as if the idea had just clicked for him.

There was a whole other person out there waiting for them, someone who would fit into their little dynamic. Someone with likes and dislikes and quirks and feelings, a whole human being.

Virgil felt himself smiling along with the others. Logan had gone back to scribbling on his notepad, even faster this time. Patton was chatting with Roman about the possibilities while rolling the string around in his fingers.

Virgil curled into the warmth of his hoodie, and for once, allowed himself to look forward to the unknown future.

By the time Damian had gotten home late that night, he was exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed in a pile of limbs, kicking his shoes off and snuggling into the covers. He didn’t bother with his shirt other than unbuttoning the top couple of buttons, and he had long since ditched his gloves. They were currently somewhere buried in his bag.

He and Remy had loitered around town for a while, talking about anything and everything. Damian had really tried to be in high spirits and give his usual sarcasm, but he just wasn’t feeling it.

His eyes drifted shut, and the beginnings of a dream had already begun to swirl, sounds and nonsense conversations were supplied to his mind, and he let his mind wander as it drifted into resting mode.

That is, until he felt a tug on his ring finger.

He opened his eyes a bit, glancing down at his hand, at the indigo string.

Tug.

His eyes opened, he was paying attention now.

Tug tug tug tug. Tug. Tug pull tug tug. Tug pull tug tug. Pull pull pull.

Damian moved to sit up, but found the effort to be too much. He decided, through the hazy-slow process that was thinking when half asleep, that this was a matter of importance, and therefore should happen in the morning. So he fell back asleep without paying it too much mind.

Logan sighed heavily as he stood from his chair, giving up on tapping out a message to their new soulmate. During their talk earlier the group had decided that it would be a good idea to try and meet this person as soon as possible, in order to diminish the time they felt incomplete.

It shouldn’t be too difficult. They could all drive, and all felt like the soulmate had to be relatively close. Reassignments normally happened to people who are near each other. The farthest recorded reassigned soulmates were four states away from each other. Almost everyone else was within the same state at least.

Logan had proposed morse code, the same way he and Patton had found each other, and the way they would occasionally send stupidly sappy quotes to one another on occasion. It must have been too late because the person wasn’t answering. He would have to try again sometimes tomorrow.

He heard a soft knock on his office door, and a few hushed whispers from somewhere farther in their shared house.

“Yes?” He called through the door, looking over as it slowly opened. It was only a little past midnight, but he still felt it to be inappropriate to talk any louder.

“Hey Lo? Me and the other two were wondering if you could join us in the kitchen to talk… again,” Patton said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

“The others and I,” Logan corrected, but nodded as he stood up, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. My sleeping schedule is probably messed up at this point anyway.”

Patton smiled fondly, and turned to lead Logan back to the kitchen. Virgil and Roman were sitting across from each other at the table, bickering about something under their voices.

They both looked up when Logan walked in,

“Okay, so, now that we’re all here,” Patton started, clasping his hands together as he sat down. Logan pulled up a chair, spinning it so it was backwards. He loathed to sit in chairs normally, both he and Virgil seemed to share that small quirk. Roman simply splayed himself out on the nearest surface, and Patton tended to sit criss-cross on the floor more often than a chair.

Logan shook his head to snap himself out of his wandering thoughts, focusing back onto Patton.

“We’ve come to a decision, Logan, and I’m sorry you weren’t here a little earlier, but we didn’t want to bother your work.” Logan nodded, not at all perturbed by being left out of the conversation. In fact, he was happy they left him to his own devices for awhile. It’s not like he was out of the loop, they were having the conversation for a reason.

“And?” He asked, quirking his head to the side.

“-And we’ve come to the conclusion-”

“Patton, please stop sounding so serious, it’s unnerving, that’s Logan’s thing,” Virgil cut in, rolling his eyes fondly.

Patton snickered, but continued, “We think it would be best if you were the one to go find our new soulmate. Like you said earlier, meeting all of us at once might be too much for them, and you’re one the… er… easier of us to handle.”

“Roman would probably serenade them the moment he saw them,” Virgil teased, elbowing said soulmate.

“Excuse you, you’d scare them off with all that,” Roman gestured to Virgil’s outfit, “Edge.”

“I see. So when should I leave? I’ll have to call off work and do extra to catch up in my classes.”

“Sometime tomorrow would be good, Lo. I’m hoping to meet them by the end of the week. I really do think they’re close, if not in town.”

“I agree,” Roman nodded, and Virgil shifted and did so as well.

“Very well. I’ll leave around noon, then. I planned on continuing with the messages until I manage to get an answer, Perhaps they’ll tell me where they are. It shouldn’t be much harder than that.”

“Yeah! That sounds awesome,” Patton smiled, then suddenly squealed and flapped his hands, “Ooh I’m just so excited to meet them, my goodness-”

“I wonder what they will be like, I don’t think I could stand another emo in the group,” Roman joked, and Virgil swatted at them.

“Listen here Princey, you like my emo. Besides, your eyeliner was a hot mess before I showed you how to properly apply it, so you better thank this emo,” Virgil snapped playfully.

Logan watched them with a soft expression, standing up and stretching.

“We should all get some rest, then. Big day tomorrow,” Logan said, walking towards their room. The others nodded and moved to stand.

Big day, indeed.

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Five, “A New Hope”

// FIND OLD CHAPTERS HERE //

hi!!!! i hope you’re all doing okay and hanging in there during this crazy time in the world. please know that im thinking of you, and please stay safe and healthy!!! id love to hear what you think of this chapter so plz like reply with thoughts or send me an ask??? id love to talk to anybody about this story bc it sounds weird but i love this story too???? like tell me what was your fav part??? what do you predict is gonna happen?

thanks so much for still reading after all of this time, and i hope this chapter distracts you from some of the crap going on in the world ♡♡♡♡

*SNEAK PEEKY TIME*

“But some moments when I’m so deep into my work, a thought pops into my head making me think that I’ll look up and see him there. Or some days I even think I hear his voice. Or I think the text I just got was from him.

None of that happens.

And it upsets me far more than it should. Some days I’m just better at ignoring it.

I couldn’t have wished for a better “new job,” but sometimes I miss him. And I don’t know what to do about it. Because there isn’t anything I can do. I know I made the right decision to leave, but in the moments I get overwhelmed and frustrated with learning new tasks, I wish I could be sitting back in that desk down the hall from his office.”

PART TWO: THE STRANGER

The noises here are all new and hard to get used to. The printer works differently. It’s like a maze in order to find the department I work in. There are key codes I have to put in and doors I have to scan my badge at. There are so many more names to learn here, and new phone extensions to master.

But I like it.

And I think I’m getting the hang of it. Slowly but surely.

“It’s Becky, right?” a voice says, pulling me from my chaotic thoughts.

I blink, looking away from my steaming cup of tea and to the face smiling at me.

“Uh yeah, it is. And you’re . . . Molly, right?”

“Yeah, wow! You’re good at names!” she laughs before sipping from her own cup of tea and taking a seat beside me. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s good so far, thanks,” I reply, picking up my tea and blowing on it. Avoiding her round brown eyes, I think hard about where I’ve seen her before. She must be in the same department if she’s in this break room. Hmmm. I hate it when I can’t remember things even though it’s on the tip of my tongue.

“You used to work for Styles and Lawson, did I hear that right?” Molly asks before taking a long pull from her mug. She crosses her legs clad in black slacks that end at the polka-dotted blouse hugging her large chest.

If I got a pound for every time somebody has asked me that here, I wouldn’t even have to work here.

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound how annoyed I am to have to answer this question for the hundredth time. I told my new boss this once, and somehow everybody in the Administration department now knows it.

“Interesting. It looks like you stayed in the same world coming to work at the courts,” she remarks and I nod blankly.

Yeah, as if I haven’t heard that one before in the last month, too.

I continue to smile and nod at her repetitive questions. I sometimes answer them and then listen to her drone on about her three kids until the small hand reaches the 6 on the clock and my break is over. I’ve never been so excited before to go back to work.

Sitting down at my desk, I almost smile at the way the cushion welcomes me back. Framed pictures smile back at me.

Skye and I. Robbie and I as kids in matching outfits. My dad. My grandparents.

The same ones I had on my old desk. At his firm.

My chin arrives in my hand and a heavy sigh falls from my lips. The little pink clock on my desk tells me it’s only 12:30 in the afternoon.

I wonder what he’d be doing right now.

My eyes fall shut with a groan. I try to shake my head free of those kinds of thoughts. The very thoughts I’ve been trying to push away this last month. But after so long, it’s almost too hard. I thought that the more time that passed would make it easier, but some days it’s harder than others.

I really like it here. Everybody is nice and helpful. My boss is easygoing, supportive, communicates well, and helps me with any questions I may have. My workload is realistic, it’s familiar, and I enjoy it.

But some moments when I’m so deep into my work, a thought pops into my head making me think that I’ll look up and see him there. Or some days I even think I hear his voice. Or I think the text I just got was from him.

None of that happens.

And it upsets me far more than it should. Some days I’m just better at ignoring it. I couldn’t have wished for a better “new job,” but sometimes I miss him. And I don’t know what to do about it. Because there isn’t anything I can do. I know I made the right decision to leave, but in the moments I get overwhelmed and frustrated with learning new tasks, I wish I could be sitting back in that desk down the hall from his office. I tell myself that I just miss the familiarity. But I know that I also miss him.

His sweet cherry smile.

His contagious laugh.

His bizarre outfits that I looked forward to every day.

His twinkling green eyes.

The taco dates.

The late-night hangouts in his office with wine coolers and take away.

The silly yet frustrating Scrabble games.

His smell. Sandalwood mixed with bergamot and cedar.

And his jokes.

His raspy deep drawl.

And his warm bear hugs.

Pressing my fingers into my temples, I blink hard. The thoughts disappear for a second, but not long enough. I lift my head and settle my fingers on the letters of the keyboard. The login screen is only blurry for a moment, and the moment passes. But the ache in my chest and the racing inside of my skull doesn’t stop. They only continue as I open up a document and continue my work, as I continue missing him.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop.

12:30 right on the dot.

The black second-hand ticks past the three nears the four, and then the five. Fat snowflakes fall against my foggy window, blanketing the rest of London in its opaqueness. The words of David Gilmour and Roger Waters tickle my ears, but I don’t listen to them. The thoughts whirring around inside of my head keep them out.

I wonder what she’s doing right now.

Is she liking her new job?

Are they being nice to her?

Did she already eat lunch?

Are any blokes flirting with her?

Does she have her own desk?

What kind of place does she work at now?

Is she happy?

That thought weighs heavier than the others, and I feel it. My lips part and a long sigh leaves them.

Knock knock!

“Yeah?” I call out, not bothering to turn around. The bustling of double-deckers, cars, and people on the streets are more entertaining than any emails I should be reading.

“Harry, are you going to join us?” I hear a familiar voice ask.

“Yeah, ‘ll be there inna minute,” I answer, ignoring the tone of Myles’ voice.

The sound of the door closing trickles past the music and into my ears. My head falls into my hands and I let my eyes close. My fingers find their way into my hair and I remain there for a second, feeling my breaths leave and enter me.

I miss you, Becks.

A few breaths later, my fingers fall. Now, they find the closed laptop sitting near me and the leather book atop it. Next, my feet find their way to the door. But they stop in front of it. All of the moisture in my throat suddenly disappears, and a giant old lump appears in its place.

Oh, not again.

I breathe in and out and wait until it passes.

My ringed fingers wrap around the handle and turn it. Swallowing past the lump, my feet move again and down the hall. Knuckling at my eyes, I round the corner and quickly wipe at my eyes.

“You okay, Harry?” Myles asks me, welcoming me when I sit down beside him in the large meeting room.

“Yeah, jus’ got somethin’ in me eye,” I tell him, gulping hard. But there’s something in his ocean blue eyes that says different. He’s been a blessing putting up with my shit and excuses, but I think he knows more than he lets on. He’s always cared more than he shares.

He pats my arm before he turns to face Jennings who begins to talk. “It’ll be alright, it always is,” he mentions in a whisper.

I nod and turn my attention to Jennings. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t. I can’t focus, and I can’t believe him. Because the chaos of my mind continues. And so do the pictures of her scattered around in there. And so do the feelings, because no matter how hard I try to shut them off, they stay. Even after a bottle of brandy. But the alcohol doesn’t make me stop missing her, and hating myself for messing up. And for losing Becks.

Alex Trebek’s voice welcomes my ears as I step foot into my flat. I jump when I hear Skye shout back at him.

“What is Little Women!” she nearly screams, and her arms fly into the air when she gets it right. “Yessssss!” she exclaims, cheering for herself. Her pigtails the color of snow and blue cotton candy dance in the air around her.

I laugh with a shake of my head, sighing as I shrug off my coat.

“Oh hey, Boops,” she greets me, garnering an eye roll from me.

“You know not to call me that,” I reply, closing the closet door that now holds my peacoat damp from the winter flurries.

“I think I’m one of the few people allowed to call you that,” she replies, and I give her a glare in return.

To no surprise, it doesn’t do anything, because she just picks up another gummy worm and feeds it between her lips coated in neon pink lipstick.

“What, did your clients cancel their haircuts and colors because of the blizzard?” I ask her, padding over to the kitchen island.

“Yeah, bloody idiots forgot how to drive in the snow or something,” she nearly hisses, but it doesn’t last long because she yells another answer at the tv. “What is the Mariana Trench!”

“Skye, we have neighbors you know,” I scold her as my eyes search the shelves of our refrigerator. “Also, would it kill you to do some grocery shopping, perhaps before we’re snowed in?”

“Yeah sorry, I meant to but I forgot.”

“What’s new,” I mumble under my breath. I grab the first thing of leftovers I see and pop it into the microwave. Rice and broccoli from last night. It’s just so exciting eating healthily. “You’re on grocery shopping duty next then.”

“Have you seen Harry yet at your new job?” Skye pipes up, ignoring my question. I truly wonder how many times I roll my eyes at her in one day or even one hour.

“No, I told you that I’m in like the way back in the admin department in the courts. He would be on the other side in the actual courtrooms where the cases are held, silly.”

“Oh well sorrrrrrrrrry,” she retorts and then yells another answer at the tv. “Who is Martin Clunes!”

The microwave beeps as I reach up into the cupboard and pull down a mug at random. It has superheroes donning its sides - Batman, Superman, and Wonderman. An old one of my dad’s. But that’s not who it makes me think of.

“Funnier is not a word!”

“Oh yes, it ‘s! Jus’ look it up in tha dictionary, or better yet, on yer phone,” he giggles in reply. Shaking my head, I type the word into Google and feel a smirk begin to warm my cheeks.

“Oh god, what ‘s that look for? I know that look’s no good.”

“So funnier is a word, huh?” I counter, feeling the smirk inch up my cheeks slowly. Turning my phone around, I show the Google page to him and watch his face morph into denial. A sneaky grin lines his lips as he resists to roll his eyes. His head falls next with a defeated sigh and he punches the pillow.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Harry Styles,” I tell him, my lips letting loose a laugh. He joins me before groaning and taking his word off of the board.

“I needa break,” he huffs. The sofa whines from his shifting weight and I hear his footsteps trailing behind him.

“Tea break?” I ask and hear a pleased ‘yes’ in return.

“Here lemme, ‘s my turn anyways,” Harry insists, and I feel his hand on my back. Facing him, he winks a hazel-green eye at me. “Go pick yer word, Becks. Lemme take care of tha tea.”

I nod and begin to turn to walk away. I almost stop when I feel his long fingers rub a circle into my back. But I don’t, because they’re gone before I can blink. A silent sigh drops from my bottom lip as I walk away from him.

You have no idea what you do to me, Harry Styles.

The thoughts being sewn together in my mind revolve around something other than the Scrabble tiles sitting in front of me. Instead, they’re about how well the skinny blue jeans hug his legs and another asset of his. And how the black and blue flannel he wears makes him look insanely cozy. My God.

“Don’ think so hard, Becks,” Harry titters, and I pull my eyes away from the Scrabble tiles that were beginning to grow blurry. I look to him with a question on my face and find him laughing with those eyes on me. “Can’t find any good words, eitha?”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I let my head fall to the back of the sofa I’m curled up against.

“Tha’s fine. Why dontcha put it t’ tha side an’ we can do somethin’ else?”

“Like what?” I ask, moving our racks of tiles to the coffee table where the board sits.

“I dunno, you can pick,” he answers. As I grab for the remote, I hear the pouring of water and the clinking of spoons.

Yawning, I sink into the sofa and press the power button. The television screen comes to life in front of me and the last thing watched appears. I flip through the channels, and after a couple of programs, I arrive on a familiar scene.

“Oooo, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,” I hear, turning to find Harry arriving on the sofa next to me. I take the steaming Marvel mug in his outstretched hand with a ‘thank you.’

“I didn’t know you liked Harry Potter,” I mumble before blowing on my tea. After deciding it’s far too hot, I sit forward and set it down on a coaster.

“Oh, I love it. I read a few o’ tha books when I was younger, an’ ya can’t find a betta movie. There’s nothin’ like these,” he answers, eyes already glued to the screen. He sets his tea aside with a clud on the table. “Here,” Harry says, and I look over to find him draping my velvet black star blanket over me. And him.

“Mmmm, thanks,” I mumble happily, pulling it up to my shoulders. I feel him move around next to me before finally getting comfortable.

“Yer welcome, bug. I think this issa good way t’ spend tha resta tha night. Too cozy an’ tired t’ do anythin’ else,” he comments with a laugh ending his words.

I nod and tip my head to the side, not expecting to find his shoulder right there. I freeze and peek a look up at him. He notices and glances down at me. All he does is smile at me before his eyes go back to the scene on the television.

I decide to stay there and he doesn’t seem to mind, only intent on commenting on the scene happening where Dumbledore first meets Voldemort. “Oooo, I like this part here. They make it look so cool with tha wisps o’ memories, an’ tha lighting ‘s incredible an’ so spooky.”

“Mmmmh, I always liked Tom Riddle, because of how creepy he is. And he’s much better looking than Voldemort,” I comment.

“What?” Harry laughs, taking a peek at me. His thick eyebrows are scrunched in a disbelieving question as a smile pinches his dimpled cheeks. “But Tom Riddle ‘s Voldemort, ya goof.”

“Yeah I know, but like his younger self is far cuter than the noseless bald bloke he becomes,” I try to explain, but he only shakes his head with a few giggles.

God, I think I could listen to that sound for hours on end.

“Ya don’ make any sense, sometimes,” Harry chuckles.

“Come on, yes I do! Wasn’t it like with every Horcrux he made he just started looking weirder?” I counter, nudging his shoulder with my own.

“No, ya silly! It was cuz he was so deep into tha dark arts-.”

“Including making the Horcruxes!” I almost shout in argument. I watch the realization embed into his features, and I know I’ve won.

“Okay fine, yer right. Well kinda. From what I rememba it has t’ do with that, an’ cuz he was a Slytherin an’ Parselmouth so he wanted t’ look like a snake. Y’know, tha lack o’ hair an’ nose? I also read that it could also be cuz he was one o’ tha last descendants of Salazar Slytherin,” Harry continues, words of admiration falling out one after the other.

“Woooooow. I didn’t know we had a Harry Potter geek in the house,” I say, trying to stifle a laugh, but it doesn’t work.

Another eye roll.

Then possibly the most adorable pout I’ve ever seen as he moves away from me with a whimper.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I laugh, trying to pull him back over to me. But he’s so tall and long, that I have little success with my noodle arms. “Harry, I was just kidding.”

“Sure ya were,” he pouts, keeping his back to me as he settles on the other side of the couch.

His name leaves my lips in a laugh. My fingers remain around one of his biceps, and I pull, but he doesn’t move an inch. I give up with an exaggerated sigh and my own whimper.

Plopping myself back in my spot, I hunker down underneath the blanket. Pretending to watch the movie, I wait.

“Yer not gonna get me with that pout,” Harry says all of a sudden.

Taking that as a dare, I slowly look over at him. With knitted eyebrows and my bottom lip sticking out. A smile appears on his lips and blush fills his cheeks. His hands fall from his shoulder-length hair he’s just put into a bun.

“Fine, ya got me. I can’ stay mad at that face,” he relents with words dipped in sugar.

“You’re not the only one who can do a good puppy dog pout,” I comment as the couch dips with his movements. I feel his shoulder bump back into mine. I try not to smile too big as I tip my head to fall back against his shoulder.

“Ya comfy, bug?” Harry mumbles next to me.

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Good, ‘m glad me shoulder’s all comfy for ya,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I see it in all its glory when I chance a look up at him and find him smiling down at me.

It’s like looking into the sun. And like all of the times before - I never want to look away.

I swallow hard, feeling the lump forming inside of me.

“Can you please not bring him up anymore? It’s not helping the fact that I’m trying to forget him,” I spit at Skye, setting the mug down hard on the granite countertop.

“Sorrrrrrrrrry. Goodness, what’s gotten into you today? I thought you were liking your new job, Ree.”

“I am, I just don’t want to talk a-about Harry anymore,” I reply, pressing the button to open the microwave. The smell of broccoli and garlic trickles past me.

“You can’t even say his name,” she laughs, and I groan as I stir the broccoli and brown rice around in the hot glass bowl. “Heeeey, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why you gave up on him, you could always go back and finish your . . .”

Skye’s words trail behind me as my feet pad down the hallway to my bedroom. You’re not helping me to forget him, Skye.

You’re only making me remember him, and I’ve been trying so hard lately not to.

My quilt several shades of pink welcomes my return as I plop onto my bed. Shoveling a bite of broccoli and garlic rice into my mouth, I grab the remote and turn on my tv. Reaching for the Fire Stick remote teetering on the edge of the table, I push it and instead of grab. It clatters to the hardwood floor and I groan in response. Setting my dinner on the wood table, I regrettably leave my bed to retrieve it. Flicking on my lamp, I squat by the table and peer into the space behind my table.

There it is. The long black rectangle waits for me there. But just as I’m reaching for it, another rectangle catches my eye. This time, it’s a white one.

“Huh?” I mumble, feeling the stiff paper welcome my hands.

I flip it over and the light catches on it. The long envelope stares back at me, and so do the letters on its front. My name in black pen interrupts the white expanse, but that’s not the writing that I’m focusing on. It’s the return address.

Styles and Lawson 418 Stevens St. London UK

Turning it over, I finger at the sealed edge. I don’t realize I’m doing it, but I bite at my bottom lip as I debate whether to open it. I can’t stop wondering what’s inside, and the postage date of December 18th only makes my curiosity burn brighter. And the fact that I’ve never seen this before in my life.

“Skye, why do I have a letter from Styles and Lawson that I’ve never opened or seen before?” I yell to her through my half-open door.

“Oh, that? I put it on your bedside table when it came that day. How am I supposed to know why you haven’t opened it?” she quips, as dumbfounded as I am.

“It was behind my table, so it must have fallen.”

“Ya think?!” she replies with her usual loud volume, followed by another Jeopardy shout.

I rip it open without another moment of hesitation. The paper makes a satisfying sound. A matte white paper looks back at me. The numbers and watermark on it tell me what it is. My fingers recoil instinctively when I touch the glossy object. I instead pull it out by its edges.

Splashes of red and green and long-forgotten faces stare back at me. Myles. Mickey. Rose. Jennings. Myles. Rory. And Harry. Their faces are followed by the words “Merry Christmas from all of us at Styles and Lawson. Wishing you a happy Christmas and a fantastic New Year!” in a blocky white font. Little holly berry branches decorate the corners of the picture. A picture taken months ago at one of their big meetings, I assume. The sun is shining in through the window, and Harry’s hair isn’t as long. Everybody’s arms are around each other and a big goofy smile sits on his face. Tongue out and all.

I do it before I can stop myself. My finger dances around the outline of his face, and down the black and maroon suit he wears in the picture. Probably the only printed picture I have of him, and one of the few I have in total. But there are enough burned into my brain that I’m already trying to erase.

I toss them both onto the floor, leaving them behind my table where I wish they would’ve stayed in the first place. I return to my broccoli and rice and play a new video on YouTube. It does a good job of drowning out his voice in my head, but not good enough.

I want ya t’ come back, Becks. I want us t’ try again . . .. . . ..

Shades of brown dance around in the steaming water. I watch them twirl together and meet one another. The water slowly grows darker and darker as steam rises off of the surface.

“If you stare any harder, I think your superpowers will come out and it’ll explode,” somebody says wryly.

“Wow, I didn’ know you were a comedian,” I respond, wrapping my fingers around the warm metal chain.

“I didn’t know you were eco-friendly all of a sudden,” Myles says, nodding his head towards my cup of tea. “Or a little kid, with that dorky thing.”

“Oh shuddup,” I respond, watching the brown liquid fall from the pink silicone pig tea infuser. “It makes me feel good tryna save tha environment, an’ this li’l thing ‘s bloody cute.”

“Sure, if you’re a bleeding first-grader,” he responds with a titter, pulling a mug down from the shelf.

“Yer jus’ jealous,” I quip as I pry off the pig’s head and dump the soggy tea leaves into the waste bin.

Myles laughs and walks around me to the black fridge to take out the carton of milk. I blow on my steaming mug, watching little waves form in the brown water from my breath. A little water tornado forms from my next breath. I watch in fascination as it twirls around in the mug before finally tapering out.

“You okay, Hare?” Myles asks, his voice taking on a softer tone. A friendly tone. “You haven’t seemed like yourself lately. You haven’t even been drinking coffee much, and that’s odd.”

“I’m fine,” I answer, bringing the mug to my lips and avoiding his eye contact. Setting the mug down on the counter, I chance a look inside the fridge and wonder what to have for lunch.

“Is it Becky leaving? Is that why you’ve been acting differently?” Myles prods, nearly pulling a sigh from my lips. Or a groan.

“I said ‘m fine, My,” I nearly retorted, my eyes glazing over the lone yogurts and forgotten sandwiches occupying the shelves. Slamming the door, I walk away and pick up my phone from the table in the center of the room. Maybe some takeaway.

“Hare, you know you can talk to me about it,” Myles insists, throwing his hands up in the air. I ignore him, typing something on my phone, but I can see him out of the corner of my eye.

Like he often does, he uses his hands to talk and they jump in the air only to fall with an exasperated sigh. Then they comb through his tousled blonde hair.

“I hate seeing you like this, and not knowing how to help,” he continues softly. I give up, pressing the lock button on my phone and shoving it into my pants.

I finally face him and look in his distraught brown eyes.

“I miss her, Myles! I connected with Becky, a-and I screwed it up. I called her a liar and Amber was harassing her tha whole damn time without me knowing!” I confess, feeling the weight of the words fall from my shoulders as I finally say them. But the emotion rises in my throat, no matter how hard I try to hold it back. “She was amazing! She put up with me shit, and yet she stood up fer herself when she needed t’. She was funny, she was smart, she was beautiful, an’ I fooked it up!” The emotion eats at my words and by now, the horses are already out of their gates. And I don’t know how to corral them back in. “I hate feeling this way, but I dunno how you can help or even how I can help myself, Myles. So ‘m not g-gonna be myself ‘til I learn how t’ get ova this.”

I don’t know what to do. I steal a glance at him and find the sadness in his eyes is worse than before. I can’t handle it, and so I lift my feet and soon I’m walking out of the room. Leaving my tea, and the god awfully cute tea infuser pig. The one she got me before she left.

“I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“Wow, thanks, that makes me feel all warm an’ bubbly inside.”

“No, silly, I just mean it looked like something you’d like. And since you drink tea so much. And you’ve been buying metal straws and bamboo toothbrushes . . It seemed fitting. And isn’t the little piggy just so cute?”

“Yeah, I guess yer right . . . it really ‘s cute.”

Winding my way around coworkers, I suddenly find myself in front of the elevator stabbing at the buttons. I don’t even register which one I’ve pushed, because I want to be anyplace but here. Today is worse than most because anywhere I look there’s a memory of her stuck there. And they jump into my head and start playing before I can stop it.

The elevator doors open with a ding and I step into the empty four walls, gladly. Rubbing at my eyes, I stab at the button for the parking garage my car is at. With a sigh, I feel some of the tension boiling inside of me leave. I get rid of the warm tears painted under my eyes and blink hard until my vision is clear again.

Suddenly, the doors open and I nearly curse out loud when I see who’s waiting. The look on his face says that he feels about the same way. I step to the side, allowing him room to join me. He almost changes his mind, but he steps on and presses the button for 17. An awkward silence surrounds us as the elevator hums to life, dinging with each floor it passes.

“Can I ask you a question?” I blurt out loud, doubting myself the second the words pass the threshold of my lips.

His confused gray eyes rise and lock with mine, a question on his face. “What?” he answers, nearly annoyed with me.

“I’m sorry, we’ve neva really talked and ‘ve neva been very nice t’ ya-,” I try, but he stops me.

“Yeah, you haven’t, Harry, and so why should I? The last time I did a favor for you it didn’t really turn out too great,” Asher responds sharply, moving further away from me shaking his head. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he changes his focus to that.

I look away and bite at my bottom lip.

Way to go, Harry.

But then the words are being shoved past my tongue and I can’t stop them.

“I . . . jus’ wanna know if she’s doin’ alright,” they say, and I’m not even sure if he heard me with how quiet they were.

Staring ahead, I see his head of blonde quiffed hair rise. He doesn’t say anything right away, but instead, he seems to think about it before he raises his head fully.

“She’s okay,” he responds, with certainty to his words. And with those words, they take a little more of the tension I feel coating my body.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that . . . Is she uh liking her new job?”

“Yeah, she said it’s good. I dunno if I should be telling you this, but uh she found a clerk job in town. The same sorta thing as what she did here, which is good and makes switching jobs easier,” he continues, and I soak up every word because they’re about her. I wish I could hear these words from her mouth. But I can’t, and that’s my fault.

“A-an’ they’re good t’ her there?” I continue, not knowing how to articulate the rambling thoughts in my head.

“Yeah, they are,” Asher says, looking at me briefly. I look back and I watch his expression soften. “She’s doing well, Harry. She misses it here sometimes, but she’s adjusting and I think she’s where she needs to be right now.”

He doesn’t get to say anything more, because the elevator doors glide open.

“Thank you, Asher . . I really mean it,” I tell him, giving a small smile. He nods and steps off and out of sight.

And thus began our random elevator talks. I looked forward to them, even if they only lasted a couple minutes. And even if I only got to hear a vague update about her. And even if it made trying to forget her harder.

The halls are quiet. A ghost town from earlier in the day where hundreds of feet traveled, and even just twenty minutes ago. But it’s the lunch hour, and everybody else has the same idea as me. To leave. Now, my black mod boots are the only sound on the speckled floors. The tall ceilings hide fluorescent lights and the gorgeous stained glass also hides, but from the snow. Identical snowflakes fall in the sky outside, and I pull my coat tighter around me in preparation to join it.

The snowflakes melt in my hair and try to fly into my face, the wind pushing them this way and that. My car takes forever to warm up, making me curse myself for forgetting my matching violet hat and mittens on my desk. It only has just begun to warm up when I pull up in front of the towering brick building. Flocks of people rush to the doors from their cars, and the other way around. The vents blasting out warm air hush when I turn the key, bringing the chill with it.

Well, this is it. My lungs heave a nervous breath and I try to sike myself up to even just open the door. But my thoughts get the best of me, and strings of what-ifs and doubts circle in my mind.

What’s the point?

What if it turns out the same way as before?

What if I can’t do it?

What if I’m not good enough?

What if I made the right decision to leave?

Why should I try again?

What if I don’t like it anymore?

How can I do it by myself again when I never could the first time?

What if I fail?

Finally, I open the door and get out before I can stop. And I decide to leave all of the what-ifs and doubts there. Behind me. I focus on picking up my feet and putting one in front of the other until I’m standing in front of the familiar doors I haven’t stood before in a long time.

The warmth welcomes me and so does the familiar smells of books and fried chips. The smells I always associated with this place. Lines of people fill the entrance and conversations paint the air. The Christmas decorations are long gone, and new knick-knacks and flyers replace them. Instead, cheesy Easter decorations line the bulletin boards. Yellow baby chicks. Pink fluffy banners. Easter eggs colored in patchy by tiny hands. Colorful signs advertise local events, reminders, schedules, and many more things I don’t have the time for.

Pushing back the sleeve of my coat, I peek at my watch. I have 20 more minutes until I have to be back at work. Oh goodness, I hope I won’t regret this.

But I don’t think I will, because I’m finally doing something about all of the nagging thoughts and ideas I’ve had the last few weeks. And I’m proud of myself for at least taking the first step.

Stopping in front of the Information Desk, I’m met with a cheery smile asking me how they can help me.

“Hi, I was hoping to speak with an advisor, a Mrs. Shepherd,” I begin, feeling the words roll off my tongue with hesitance. I’m surprised with myself for even remembering the name.

“Do you have an appointment with her?” she responds, looking away from her computer she types on.

“No, I uh was just on my lunch break and I was hoping to meet with her to speak about something.”

“Alright. I’m going to need your name and what your question is for her,” the lady replies, looking between her computer screen and me. I pause, focusing on the fake yellow chick sitting atop her screen. Her heavily lined eyes wait for me behind her pink framed glasses, and her curly brown hair dances in the wind from her mini fan.

“My name is Rebecca Holte, and I wanted to speak with Sally about finishing up my last 30 credits of my law degree.”

#the assistant #fanfic #writing #harry styles #one direction #1d #harry #au #harry au #alternate universe #lawyer au #lawyer #pa harry #fine line

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psychosistr · 3 years

Text

The Stars of the Stage- Chapter 2

Summary: Jonathan runs into a familiar face while getting breakfast at his local coffee shop- lucky for him, that familiar face is quite handsome.

Notes: Who doesn't love a good old fashioned cute "accidentally met up at the coffee shop scenario"? x3

-First Chapter-

Needless to say, Speedwagon got the part of Sir Haste Dray without any other actors really being considered. Soon enough, the rest of the cast list was set, full scripts were sent out to the chosen actors, and rehearsals were scheduled to begin.

Jonathan was excited to see how well the show would come together. However, first, he had to finish up a few last-minute touch-ups for the script. The lines would still be essentially the same, he was just revising the movements for the climactic final fight to make it more dramatic while still being believable.

To help with his concentration, he went to work at the same place he always did when the weather was nice- his favorite coffee shop situated along the river near his apartment complex, The Ripple. He was seated outside at a table under the awning with his laptop open on the table in front of him and a large covered coffee cup with a plate of pastries off to the side. In the middle of deleting a line he’d just typed and had found less than satisfactory, however, he heard a voice calling his name.

“Mr.Joestar?” A figure accompanied the voice approaching him and he looked up to see a familiar looking blonde man dressed in a white tank top and a dark hat. “Ah, thought that was you. ‘ow’s it goin’, Mr.Joestar?” The man greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Oh! Mr.Speedwagon!” Jonathan smiled at him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the keyboard to see the other man more clearly. “What a pleasant surprise.” He gestured to the seat across from himself at the table. “Stopping in for a drink? If you would like, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

“Mighty kind o’ y’.” Speedwagon grinned and headed for the entrance to the café. “Lemme just go grab a cup an’ I’ll be right back.” He was quick to return with a much smaller cup than Jonathan’s own and a simple croissant rather than Jonathan’s platter of pastries. “So, do y’ come ‘ere often?”

“Actually, yes.” Jonathan chuckled, pointing to his apartment complex down the street. “I actually live right over there. I usually end up here nearly every day of the week, depending on how busy I am.”

“Ha! Y’ gotta be kiddin’ me!” The other man chuckled and pointed at an apartment complex on the opposite side of the river facing the one that Jonathan had pointed at. “I live over in that one, on the fourth floor. Just moved in a few weeks back an’ I’m learnin’ me way ‘round the neighborhood.”

“Really?” Jonathan looked at where he’d pointed then back to his own, noting how the fourth floor lined up with the floor he lived on almost evenly. “Why, it would appear that we are neighbors then.” He chuckled a bit- life sure did work in mysterious ways. “In all likelihood, we’ll certainly be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

Speedwagon took a sip of his drink with a pleased hum. “Well, I sure wouln’ mind that one bit.” He set the cup down and broke off a piece of his croissant. “Say, while I got y’ ‘ere, there’s somethin’ I’d been meanin’ t’ ask y’.”

Jonathan watched the blonde curiously while eating one of his own confections. “Oh?” He swallowed and gestured for Speedwagon to continue. “What would that be, Mr.Speedwagon?”

The blonde man winced slightly at the title. “Ugh, please don’ call me that..makes me feel old. Just Speedwagon’s fine, or even Robert- but don’ go callin’ me Bob or anythin’ like that or I may have t’ deck y’.”

Jonathan chuckled a bit and nodded in agreement. “In that case, please refrain from calling me ‘Mr.Joestar’- just Jonathan is fine, or even Jojo, as that is how most of my friends and colleagues refer to me.”

“Alrigh’ then, Jojo.” Speedwagon’s smile returned, apparently pleased with the increased familiarity between the two of them now. “I read through the script that y’ sent me, an’ I was wonderin’ if I could ask y’ somethin’ ‘bout me character.”

Jonathan nodded as he listened, wondering if perhaps he’d made something unclear about Sir Haste Dray that he would need to explain in more detail. “About Sir Dray? Of course, what would you like to know?”

“Well..it might jus’ be me readin’ too much of meself int’ the character..but..” He paused, tapping his finger against the coffee cup as if considering his wording carefully. “I know the romantic focus for Lord Samuel Sunstone ‘s Lady Bella Penrith..but..does Sir Dray, y’know, ‘ave feelin’s for Lord Sunstone, too?”

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly. “What..?” Had he really…?

Speedwagon looked back up at him with a thoughtful expression. “Don’ get me wrong, I love the relationship with Samuel an’ Bella, i’s really sweet an’ a long time comin’..but..I dunno, when I read Dray’s lines, the way ‘e talks about lovin’ Samuel’s good nature an’ ‘ow ‘e completely devotes ‘imself to the guy..it just makes me think ‘e might ‘ave a thing for ‘im, y’know?” He frowned at Jonathan’s wide-eyed stare. “I mean, if I’m wrong, y’ can tell me, I was just wonderin’-”

He was startled when Jonathan suddenly reached across the table with both hands and grabbed Speedwagon’s shoulders with an excited smile on his face and stars in his eyes. “You actually picked up on that?! Oh, I cannot believe it! I did not know if that would still come through, but I am delighted you were able to see it!!”

Speedwagon blinked in confusion. “Wait..so..I got it right..?”

“You did!” Jonathan suddenly realized that he had grabbed the smaller man and released him, settling back down in his seat with a slight flush to his cheeks. “My apologies, I became too excited again..I just..I am so happy you were able to notice the truth about Sir Dray’s feelings!” He was still smiling, he couldn’t help it with how excited he was. “I wanted to write their relationship into the story as well, but William said it would confuse the audience since most don’t associate such things with the time period. I tried to tell him that there was an entire subculture and code-system practiced by homosexuals during the Victorian era, but he said it would feel like too much for the audience to believe. So, I was forced to remove a few scenes with Samuel and Dray having the discussion about Dray’s sexual identity and the implications of such a thing between himself and Samuel, but I did not want to change any of the other scenes with them, so I left the dialogue unchanged. I cannot tell you how happy I am to know that their connection was still able to shine through enough for someone to recognize it!”

Speedwagon smiled too, beaming with pride. “I’m jus’ glad I wasn’ misjudgin’ the guy. People tell me all the time I’m tryin’ t’ projec’ me own ‘preferences’ ont’ characters. Good t’ know I was right on this one.”

Jonathan paused for a moment hearing those words, trying not to blush as a rogue idea crossed his mind. “So then..you are..?”

Speedwagon winked at him with a chuckle. “Yep. Gay as a maypole, mate.”

“O-Oh..I see..” Jonathan glanced away, his cheeks feeling warm. Really, now, how ridiculous was that? He barely knew the man and after one short conversation he felt like a school boy with a crush? Honestly, why was he like this? “Well, in any case, I am truly glad you identified so well with Sir Dray. Honestly, I was overjoyed that William allowed me to caste you for the part- you were a perfect fit.”

“Glad y’ thought so, ‘e caught my attention from the moment I read ‘is description.” He took a sip of his coffee and finished up his croissant. “By the way..mind if I ask y’ one more question ‘bout Dray an’ Samuel?”

“You may ask as many questions as you please- I am always excited to talk about my work.” Jonathan replied honestly, more than happy to discuss such things with someone insightful enough to understand his writing so well.

“Hmh, good t’ know.” Speedwagon smiled and set down his coffee cup before asking his question. “I jus’ wanted t’ know..are Dray’s feelin’s for Samuel one-sided, or does Samuel return some of it? Like I said, I’m fine with Samuel an’ Bella’s romance, but thinkin’ that ‘e doesn’ know ‘bout Dray’s feelin’s or jus’ allows the guy t’ follow ‘im ‘round knowin’ ‘e loves ‘im is kinda sad, y’know?”

“Ah..that is a good question.” Jonathan’s smile softened into something more understanding. “To answer it simply- no, Dray’s feelings are not one-sided. Samuel is quite aware of how his dearest friend feels, and, in one of the scenes I unfortunately had to cut, he discusses with his mentor that he has feelings for both his best friend and his long-time crush. He goes on to say that, in a perfect world, he would be allowed to marry both of them and live a long, happy life with the two who have supported him and showed him such love and kindness right when he needed it the most. His teacher acknowledges that his feelings are pure and that he deserves such a life, but advises him on how, even without the influence of the same dark forces the antagonist controls, that peoples’ hearts are fickle and easily led astray by misconceptions and tells him not to be too public with his affections, for both his own and Dray’s safety. I even wrote a scene towards the end where, after Samuel’s wedding to Bella, when they step into their horse-drawn carriage to be carted off for their honeymoon, Dray was the one waiting to open the door for them instead of a random servant. Dray and Samuel would have shared a loving smile at one another before Dray and Bella winked at each other knowingly and each kissed one of Samuel’s cheeks before all three went off into the carriage together to start their new life.”

Speedwagon listened to his words intently, looking positively riveted by the story. “That sounds beautiful, Jojo! Do y’ still ‘ave a copy with those scenes? I’d love t’ read ‘em some time.”

“Certainly.” He replied with a grin. “Would you like me to bring them to the set during the first rehearsal?”

“Hm..I’d rather not wait that long..” Speedwagon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He then proceeded to write something on his coffee cup as he talked. “Tell y’ what, seein’ as we live so close t’ each other, ‘ow ‘bout we just meet up ‘ere again sometime?” He brought the cup to his lips and chugged the last of his drink before setting the cup down near Jonathan’s hand. “I gotta get goin’, else I’ll miss work, but I usually keep me phone on me.” He gave Jonathan a wink as he stood up and grabbed the rest of his trash before walking away. “Be seein’ y’, Jojo.”

Jonathan’s face heated up again from the wink. “F-Farewell for now, Speedwagon.” He managed a wave and a smile, feeling really shy and screaming at himself internally because DID HE REALLY JUST STUTTER LIKE THAT?!!

Once Speedwagon was out of sight, Jonathan looked back down at the coffee cup and grabbed it. He turned it around until he saw that Speedwagon had written his phone number along the side of it along with a message:

“You’re really cute and I like listening to you talk. Looking forward to doing it again sometime- maybe here, or maybe somewhere else? ;) <3 –Speedwagon”

The heat that had previously been burning at his cheeks blossomed into a full-fledged blush that encompassed both of his cheeks and his ears, leaving his face very red.

So, he wasn’t the only one feeling something? That was good to know…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: That's all I have for now, but will post more when I eventually get the chance x3

Also, for anyone curious about the names of the characters from the play, they're all synonyms or close-enough names to the characters from the regular universe because I am half-lazy and half-bad taste in humor x3

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jonathan joestar #robert edward o speedwagon #jonawagon #Modern!AU #stars of the stage

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sheriffofmagic · 4 years

Note

Im always a big slut for hurt/comfort, so if you made it Vang0Chainz I would perish. Also Burger Chainz trying to enculture Vang0Bang0 by having a movie marathon that turns into a sleepover. Also what if Burger knew Vang0 before he lost his memory but promised Vango that he'd never tell him who he was before. im also tipsy lol im jus throwing spaghetti places. i love your blog btwww

I was going to go to sleep but i saw this ask and had to start writing immediately (must have some weird dumb pavlovian response to vang0chainz) anyway this is super dumb hopefully, maybe you’ll enjoy it. it’s almost 5am and i didnt proofread this so its definitely a huge mess but uhhhhh here’s the trash you ordered

---

“Will you stop fussing?” Vang0 says, snappier than he intended.

Burger Chainz pulls back from where he’d been inspecting Vang0’s hurt shoulder, a mix of hurt and embarrassment on his face.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Vang0 continues, “at least… I don’t think it is. Muscle memory or somethin’. Anyways, I mean it. I’m fine. And you hovering over me like I’m about to drop dead isn’t helping.”

Vang0’s not fine, obviously. He’s been shot which, muscle memory or not, stings like a bitch and more than anything makes him mourn for his jacket which there is no salvaging from the burn marks. A shame really, the chrome color had nearly matched that of his hair. He’d been thinking of turning it into his signature look, perfect for merchandising. Oh well. He wasn’t dead so that was a plus of sorts....

They were at Vang0 and Burger’s place (technically Vang0’s but Burger was there so often the distinction hardly felt necessary anymore) and, aside from the bullet wound, this was a pretty typical Saturday night. The TV providing a low din of noise to fill the empty spaces of whatever inane conversation was taking place between the two of them. Tonight was more tense than usual. Vang0 Bang0 was not a strong man. High charisma, low constitution. All that. Hiding pain wasn’t exactly in his repertoire but ignoring it? That he might be able to manage, especially if it stopped his massive cyborg friend from pulling the kicked puppy look for the next couple of hours.

Night City wasn’t exactly known for it’s premium broadcasting, most nights after midnight channels tended to switch to the same things. Classics. Vang0 didn’t care much for it, looking back at the past, even the fictional past, wasn’t really his thing. Burger Chainz, though, Burger Chainz loved them. Tried to hide it, Vang0 knew, but he’d referenced them often enough that Vang0 picked up. Vang0 was observant like that, even though he pretended not to be.

All this to say, it was after midnight, Vang0 was the one in pain, and yet Burger looked like he was the one on the verge of a breakdown. Vang0 took pity on him, the kind he only indulged in when the streams were turned off and the hour was late and he could pretend he and Burger were just normal friends, “What’s this one about again?”

Burger looks startled for a moment then glances briefly between the TV and Vang0, “Uhh, it’s a rom-com. He’s emailing another kid from his school but he doesn’t know who it is.”

Vang0 bites back a sardonic comment about how if this kid really wanted to know who his secret admirer was he could cross reference the dialogue patterns and… yeah maybe he can see why he’s not the most fun person to watch movies with and- oh. Burger is still talking.

“-things were different back then, ya know? People weren’t so… nice.”

Vang0 laughs, “You think people are nicer now?”

He gestures to the wound in his shoulder and Vang0 rolls his eyes (Eye? Can monochrome robotic eyes roll?) “Well, not bad folks maybe. Criminals still aren’t great. Prone to violence and all that. But normal people? Yeah I think they’re better.”

“Well aren’t you optimistic.”

Without missing a beat Burger replies with a wry smile, “Well, I have to be don’t I? With you around. Gotta cancel out that negative energy.”

Burger goes back to watching the TV, a slight uptick in the corners of his mouth. Vang0 can only look at him half dumbstruck, half distracted by the pain (getting shot really does hurt).

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Burger Chainz glances toward him, unsure, “Mean no offense. Just- you kind of assume the worst. About situations. ‘Bout people. Sometimes, even ‘bout yourself, if it’s not outta line to say.”

“It is.”

“Okay.” An awkward silence. Punctuated by the sounds of the film, too loud to be filling this space. This isn’t the conversation Vang0 wanted to be having. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.

“How is it wrong for me to assume the worst? Huh? People do the worst all the time. We see it every day. You see the world we live in? You want me to be optimistic here? After everything I’ve gone through?”

Burger finally looks away from the screen, for once there’s no tension in his brow, only sureness. “I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself but goin’ through life thinking every shadow is out to get ya isn’t much of a way of livin’.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of all people that I have good reason to be distrustful.”

“You don’t. I-” he sighs, “I just wish you’d be willing to things as more than just black and white.”

“Oh forgive me if I’ve had some encounters,” he gestures to his shoulder, “that paint Night City in a bad light.”

Burger hesitates, “Does it hurt?”

“Obviously.”

“Right…”

They lapse into silence again, both of them staring at the screen but Vang0 can tell from the rigid set of Burger’s shoulders that he’s not really paying attention. He’s too on edge.

It’s not until after the emotional turning point of the film that Burger Chainz breaks the silence. The kid’s friends have all abandoned him, over something stupid Vang0 presumes despite not having paid much attention to what was going on. The kid was angry. Alone. And then the resolution starts and he’s so not alone anymore.

“It can’t all be bad though, right?” Burger asks tentatively.

Vang0 raises an eyebrow at him though which he means to convey Uh well, it is. In case you forgot I was shot by a person in your dumb city just a few hours ago. But which Burger Chainz apparently interprets as… honestly Vang0 has no clue how that man’s mind works.

“I- I mean. It’s not all bad all the time. Aside from the getting shot thing. Not great.”

“Can’t forget the memory wipe.”

Burger’s eye darts around the room, “R-right that too but- But. It’s not all bad. I mean, it’s pretty bad but think about it. You have an apartment and your fans and a sorta job and Dasha and- and me.”

He pauses.

“And that can’t all be bad. I’m only sayin’- the whole world ain’t out to get you, only part of it.”

This shouldn’t be comforting. At all. It should be unsettling. It should make Vang0 want to laugh bitterly and spout some brilliant sardonic response about the world being a cruel place that doesn’t care about people like him. But the music in the movie has shifted to something more hopeful. But it’s the late hours of the night where things like hope are less dangerous to feel. But Burger is looking at him with a soft look in his eyes. Like he really believes what he’s saying, the sap, and like he wants Vang0 to believe it too. He doesn’t but for just a second, Vang0 wants to. He wants to believe in a world with gentleness, the one Burger seems to be able to see where no one else can.

He sighs. Not a defeat. Not an agreement because Vang0 never yields. But an acceptance.

Vang0 tries to release the tension from his shoulders as much as he can, schooling his face into something less jaded. If anyone deserves to believe the world isn’t all sharp edges it’s Burger.

He looks between Burger and the screen, “So do these kid’s friends suck or is that just me?”

There’s a flash of disappointment across Burger’s face, but he’s never been one to push especially not with Vang0. If he drops the subject, Burger will follow. The flash is gone in an instant and a small smile grows across Burger’s face, any residual tension drifting away with it.

“Definitely not just you, they suck. You might’ve missed it but earlier they-”

And he semi-listens to Burger re-explain the plot of the movie he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to but he finds it capturing him more now. His attention is locked somewhere between the play-by-play and the actions occurring on screen. It’s the resolution now and everything seems to be coming together just a little to easily. The friends are back and the school is welcoming and the crush is confessed and everything is wrapped up too neatly for Vang0 to feel satisfied. There’s still a panging ache in his shoulder. His head is still chattering away as it has been since he woke up. Still there is that faint voice urging him to pull away. To focus on what he’s good at and make content and be alone and convince himself that that is enough. But the volume is so low that the old pop tune playing over the credits doesn’t feel abrasive. Burger is leaning in towards him slightly, conspiratorially, as if talking about this dumb classic is as important as mission details. There’s a smile on Burger’s lips that reaches his eyes. And Vang0 is content, for this moment, to pretend that happy endings are enough.

#this is... bad #but i tried and that counts for something #i was t*psy when i started writing this and am no longer t*psy if that gives and perspective #answered #burgerbang0 #vang0chainz #Anonymous

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yodamn · 4 years

Text

I'm adding on to my soft post about older siblings and parents to clones.

a head nurse who tells a particularly stubborn clone to get back in bed. Does the Mom Voice AND counts to three and he immediately goes back to bed.

a nurse who had a few little sisters. And since mom was always a little too busy, THEY were on Hair Duty. So maybe tup is in Med Bay and hella uncomfortable and his hair is just ugh all over the place. So big brother/sister is like Braid Time! And Tup. Just. Melts. And falls asleep.

bounty hunter hired by the republic to train clones. Little did the Kaminioans know is that they had a soft spot for kids. And maybe they come across a cadet or baby clone whos upset for one reason or another and they calm him down and cuddle him and maybe do that nose stroke like in Frozen 2

ive noticed that sometimes peoples families are really different. Mine is really close knit and physical with each other, meanwhile a friend of mines is just not as touchy feely. Well maybe theres a nat-born whos really physical and you know. We all know how touch starved the clones are. So like maybe at one point the nat-born sees a clones just laying and automatically just lays across him in cat pile fashion. Not even thinking about it. And then all the Clones are like Ö can we? And the officer is like ??? Of course? Like just, cuddling bro.

an older sibling officer who sees a Clone or Jedi who's got that look. Like a look of "Im just done, I'm so tired, I just want a hug but I'm not gonna ask for it bc i have to be professional and serious" and they are like alright guess I gotta. Guess its big sibling time idk. Come here you big emotionally constipated lug lemme give you a hug, a warm drink, and a soft blanket. Im here to listen.

or or or just like. Momma Bear. Someone sees a clone being yelled at or just like bullied or whatever and they go full get the FUCK away from my baby so help me God ill rip you THREE new ones. And once again clones are like Ö you did that for us?

Like maybe in the Senate someone is like clones are just weapons they are lower than low. And senator is a parent or older sibling and sometimes. Sometimes you can tell what they are thinking by body language. Especially shinies who havent fully gotten a hold of like hiding emotions. Senator sees that and like anger fills them. How dare you. How dare you.

A civilian sees a couple clones playing a their younger siblings or kids and its like well guess i gained a few new fully adult and armed kids/guess I have new siblings idk.

OR I saw someone sent in an ask to () about Pet Foolery and about Pixie and Brutus. And how Brutus was like Wolffe. And its. Like. What if. Wolf Pack gets a little stowaway or plo gets a new itty bitty padawan, a lost kid or you know SOMETHING. Kid becomes legit attached to Wolffe and the rest of the Pack and they get just as attached to them. Start calling them their "pup". Kids like !!! Look! Look at this cool rock! And these adult men are all like ÖÖÖ Cool Rock! Cool! Or plo brings them sweets and they are like ÖöÖÖ candies? I jus I love it. Or maybe conversely the Wolf Pack is like ugh its a brat but the kids either like FUCK you we are friends now or is too starry eyed at these huge guys to realize they dont like them. And maybe a whole "you mean you dont like me?" Scene happens like in Finding Nemo where baby gets upset and as SOON as tears start welling up theres 300 Clones Arming up to defend them and scare whoever doesnt like the babychild. Babychild falls asleep ON them and they cant move jus UGH so cute.

little kid goes to wrecker and says "I love you THIS much" and stretch their arms as wide as they possibly can and wrecker is like Ö and does the same and the kids like thats alot! And wreckers like Yeah!

kid gravitating to clones who Dont Like Kids. Bc kids are Like That. Like Cats.

kids, younglings, or padawans drawing pictures for the Corosaunt Guard or other clones and giving it to them. Them keeping Every. Single. One. And putting them all over their barracks.

Some pictures that were drawn specifically for THAT individual clone are kept with them even in battle. Like maybe one youngling in the creche was enamored by Cody when Obi Wan came to visit and was nice. Next time the kid saw him they gave him a picture of the two of them with the word friends spelt wrong under neath the two smiling figures and legend says Cody still has it to this day.

kids giggling and playing with the clones helmets, running around pretending to be them. Or making their own "armor" from cardboard or scrap pieces.

one really feisty kid having NO problem telling someone off for being rude, doesnt matter who it is. One time Anakin got snippy and kiddo walks up and says with all seriousness and courage "Youre Mean and a Bully". Ahsoka thought it was hilarious, Rex was honored by his courageous knight in shining robes and tiny pigtails.

Older siblings not really forcing the clones to accept their help but still like "Hey I'm big sister/brother and you gotta deal with it, I'm here if you need me" like if they see they have something on their faces and dont know the older sibling will wipe it off with mass protest. Coordinating with older clones to harmlessly embarrass younger clones. Or to get them to calm down.

I cant write for shit but im gonna have to try bc I gots some ideas. Ive got mostly fluffy soft domestic stuff but still 👀👀👀

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 5 years

Text

Fairy Tail Unpopular Opinions

HI LOL

ok so. im taking this idea from @mika-milano bc their post was very well written, entertaining, and just a rly good idea. so check their post out!:) and thank u for the idea!

and now. a disclaimer.

so im 19 now. i started watching fairy tail when i was 14. this show has been very near and dear to me for a long time. it was one of the first anime i ever watched, and it has my favorite all time ship (gruvia ofc). also i would kind of be lying if i said that most of the reason i still keep up with the manga and show wasnt bc of gruvia. bc it is lol. but. it DEFINITELY has its flaws. and here r some of my opinions on them.

1. so much doesnt make sense

ok listen lol. i think we can all say that its kind of obvious when mashima hasnt thought things through or just pulls things out of his ass out of nowhere. i dont wanna go too in detail about this because if im being honest, there is a lot that i just flat out don't remember. what i can remember is that as the story continued to go on, things seemed to make less and less sense.

2. the best arc is the tower of heaven arc

wow ok. i cant really tell u why i love this arc so much. but i do. im not even a jerza or erza stan (i love them both, but like not my fav pairing or character by any means). but idk. something about this arc was so intriguing, intense, emotional, and just enjoyable to watch. seeing the depths of erza's background and her relationship with her past, jellal, natsu, and the rest of the guild was just amazing. idk why this arc sticks out so much to me, but it really does.

3. lisanna shouldve stayed dead

now this one isnt even bc i hate lisanna or anything. i like lisanna! i even like nali! (not as much as nalu but still). her death had such a great impact on her siblings, natsu, and the rest of the guild and watching them all have to grow past it was incredible (especially for mira and elfman!). and then they just brought her back. not only did they bring her back, but they brought her back for NO REASON! she just became another side character! when she came back to life she had no further impact on ANYTHING! and it made the whole "natsu's childhood love/bestfriend" thing seem so much less important and way more fake.

4. more ppl jus shouldve died overall

with this one im mostly just talking about makarov. but still. waaaay too much death bating. like they died and then magically came back to life. too much of it. felt like nothing was ever really at stake. im saying this but like if juvia had actually stayed dead i would have thrown a FIT lol

5. i wanted more of cana and gildarts

thats it. all i really have to say ab this one. they r cute and i wanted to see more<3

6. juvia is underrated

ok now i am SUPER fucking biased lmao. bc juvia is the BEST character in fairy tail imo. but like come on! she's beautiful, loving, smart, sweet, powerful, funny, badass! shes perfect! and shes waaaay stronger than everyone thinks she is smh. clearly she is the best choice to stan.

7. lucy is overrated

ok look. i like lucy! kind of! idk man shes smart and nice and cute but like. not as powerful as everyone thinks. she's definitely one of the most developed in terms of her strength FOR SURE but still. not very strong. and her character just aint for me:/ sorry!

8. levy should be a lot stronger than she's portrayed

it seems like for some reason since shes small that also means shes weak, but like, that just aint it. solid script magic should be really sick and she should kick ass way more than she does especially for how smart she is but no. mashima always makes her the helpless one:/ rly sad bc i like levy a lot and ik she could be way more badass.

9. the only ship that i rly just flat out hate is gr*ylu.

like nali? i like them! nerza? fine! grayza? also dont like and are second to gr*ylu but i mean i dont have a fiery hatred! lyvia? cool! gratsu? sure! all of them i can get behind in some way ahape or form but i just HATE gr*ylu. idk why i hate them so much but i just really do lol.

10. fairy tail's old animation was way better

while i do think every character got like way more attractive with the new animation, the rest is just bad. not nearly as pretty, crisp, consistent, or colorful. its just blah. sorry sis thats the tea.

ok so there r 10 unpopular ft opinions! please dont yell at me lol! if u wanna have a discussion, we can discuss but these r just my opinions! thank u!:)❤️

#personal #fairy tail #gruvia

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agentdagonet · 4 years

Note

so this may be asking too much but… Headset Romance: The love story of two people who have never met. With Agent!Harry and Handler!Eggsy

Okay so I know that this is several thousand years late, but I hope that it was at least a little worth the wait?

Headset Romance

‘You’re a bloody peacock and that’s somethin’ I’ve learned from experience, Galahad. The fuck did you say that for? He’s def gonna remember your sorry arse now.’

'I found his company degrading- I can get the drive without playing nice with an adulterer.’

'If you say so, guv- but if this comes back to bite your arse I expect the whole song an’ dance. An’ a stiff drink.’

'And how will I deliver these things to you, oh faceless one?’

'You’re a fuckin’ secret agent, I’m pretty sure you can figure out a private youtube link and how to pay a drink forward. Or just do the performance for Merlin- he’ll make sure I get to see it.’

'Alternatively, you and I could simply go out after a job well done like normal people do after work.’

'We ain’t normal people, guv- on your left, yeah good- and I’m plenty satisfied with this arrangement.’

'You could be further satisfied.’

'Did you really jus’ try an’ pull that one on me? Next you’ll be saying somethin’ about the many benefits of physical interaction. Upstairs, third door on the right.’

'Well it’s not as if I haven’t suggested such things before. Got it.’

'Good, can’t go back the way you came but there’s another stairwell down the way- go up a floor and go down elsewhere. Minimal interaction means you can’ just punch your way outta this one.’

'Fists are so uncivilised-’

'Or any of your gadgets, neither. Jus’ get home safe and drop that drive at HQ.’

'Fine. In repayment for you taking away all of my fun, I’ll be sure to send you the most awful thing I can find in-’

'Oh there you are’

'Shit.’

'Lemme guess, it’s the prick you insulted earlier. An’ he ain’t too happy.’ There’s no response, but the view from the feed is answer enough. 'Knock 'im out and get the fuck outta there. This cover’s a bust now, anyway so it don’t matter how just get it done.’ Galahad doesn’t acknowledge him, though he does knock the target’s lights out as quietly as possible before making his way quickly but calmly from the event. Small favours.

'So I’m expectin’ that song an’ dance before you’re sent off on your next mission.’

'Is now really the time to rub it in my face?’

'Are you dyin’?’

'No.’

'Bein’ pursued?’

'No.’

'Injured in literally any way?’

'Well, my knuckles ache a bit.’

'That don’t count. An’ my point is that now is the perfect time to rub your mistakes in your face like a pup who’s pissed on a rug. I dunno how you survived twenty-somethin’ years without me.’

'Merlin had hair to pull out. And I resent that statement.’

'Y'mean you represent that statement. An’ I’m buying that man a cake. “Congratulations on Surviving Galahad” has a nice ring to it.’

'In what way do I represent a pup? I’m perfectly grown, thank you.’

'Oh I know you are; you’re a big boy, ain’t ya? But you listen to very few people, an’ even then do things your own way, and then you strut your way home expecting a bone and a belly rub for a job well done.’

'I’m hanging up now- obviously made it to the extraction point; I’ll debrief upon arrival.’

'Oh don’t take it personal, Galahad- you know you’re my favourite.’ The silence on the other line was answer enough. Eggsy closed the feed and smiled to himself, happy with the successful mission. He’d only been Galahad’s main handler for a couple years, but it was easily the most fulfilling job he’d ever had. Percival took him too seriously, Bors was a bit obsessed with explosions, and Lancelot was far more pun than professionalism.

It also wasn’t a bad thing that Galahad was incredibly witty. And fit. And so out of his league it wasn’t even funny. One glance in the mirror when he forgot (He assumed he forgot; no need to make assumptions and make things worse than they were) that the feed was running and Eggsy was completely gone for him. Lust at first sight, when he’d already been enamoured with his dry wit, made Harry’s inexplicable interest in him the worst temptation.

But he didn’t know much of anything about Eggsy besides his sarcasm. Well, that wasn’t quite true either, Eggsy mused as he wrote up his end of the mission report. Eggsy’d spoken about his sister, and his mum, and about the Prick with a capital P he’d managed to get rid of when Merlin had hired him. He’d talked about loads of shit. Just nothing he thought was worth the kind of fuss Galahad made of him- Galahad, who had never even met him, and probably just had a thing for a bit of rough.

Not that that was a bad thing- but Eggsy knew he’d want more than a tumble with him and he just didn’t think that was possible.

'Eggsy, I have something for you.’ Merlin spoke from the doorjamb, ever-present clipboard in his hand and a smirk on his face. There’s a ping from his monitor, and Eggsy opens a file under the watchful eye of Merlin labelled 'He Told Me So.'

It’s a simple video, a sheepish smile on Harry’s face as he sits in the Kingsman plane, doing these silly little waves with his hands while he sings 'you told me so’ in varying pitches at a whisper. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want the pilot (a mate of Eggsy’s named Ryan, not that Harry knows that) to hear him and turn around, he’s flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears. It’s actually adorable.

'I don’t know how you get him to do these things, lad.’ Merlin’s chuckling behind him, eyes bright behind his specs. ‘I can barely get him to show up on time.’

‘What c’n I say, I’ve got the magic touch.’

‘If I didn’t know better I’d accuse you of having siren’s blood- he’d do just about anything you asked of him.’ Merlin nods his head at the screen, where Harry is paused mid-song. ‘This being the least of it. He’s also instructed me, in this e-mail, to tell you that your drink will be waiting for you at the pub down the street once he’s back on home soil. And not to sound terribly cliched, but am not an owl so stop using me to send messages back and forth. Give him an e-mail or something if you refuse to give him your number.’ He grumbled a bit (sounds suspiciously like you oblivious bastards) before wandering off.

Eggsy finishes his report with a smile, and places an order at the bakery he knows Merlin prefers.

Harry got off the plane at HQ early the next morning, sun barely over the horizon, and immediately went to debrief with Arthur. Merlin would be sure to meet him there, the way he always did, and then Harry would get to go home and sleep in his own bed. Sounded like heaven.

‘Now, Galahad, it seems like the mission went off without issue?’

‘For the most part, yes.’

‘The most part?’

‘I’m afraid that alias is unusable now- I accidentally compromised the mission but managed to work around it to fulfill the objective.’

‘Excuse me, gentleman- dropping off some reports for Arthur.’ A young man came through, dropping a thick stack of files on Arthur’s desk with a nod. Nothing in particular stood out about him, accent as upper-class as most everyone at Kingsman (with the one notable exception that Harry could never track down) and his clothes, though casual, were obviously of high quality. He was probably one of Merlin’s minions.

‘Ah, Lunete, thank you.’

‘Sir.’ In lieu of goodbye, he nodded at them (and exchanged a wry smile with Merlin, confirming his suspicion) before leaving the Dining Room.

‘Now, to get back to things- there was no “accidentally” involved in your alias being compromised.’ Merlin turned a severe glare in his direction before turning back to Arthur. ‘I reviewed the footage personally, and he brought attention to himself by insulting the target. Claims he found his company degrading, and could accomplish the task without following the instructions of his handler. In the end he forcefully knocked the target unconscious because too much time had elapsed to use the amnesia darts.

‘Well, as he did achieve the objective, we can at least attest to his being correct on part of that- though you did lose us a useful alias and years of work.’ Arthur turned to Harry, who looked sheepish for a moment, intent on opening his mouth to defend himself, but Merlin redirected his attention once again.

‘Yes sir, he did- but I’d like to bring something to your attention; glasses, please.’ They looked up at the hidden screen, which was now displaying the details of his alias’ file. ‘This is the file for Atticus Grey as it was originally constructed.’ He typed something onto his clipboard, ‘this is what is associated with that person.’

‘Well, this is convenient.’ Arthur muttered to himself, saying what Harry had been thinking. By some kind of divine intervention, it seemed that all of the people he’d made connections with through Atticus were either in custody or dead. The former of which was adding to the latter every year.

‘So, even though he did in fact ruin this alias, it’s not an altogether unsalvageable situation. Honestly, we probably would have scrapped this alias within the next couple of missions anyway.

‘However, with this alias being scrapped a bit prematurely, my team will need a few days to make the new alias as airtight as possible. With most agents off on missions we’re prioritising handling over our background work- when Percival and Lancelot return we should be ready for wherever you wish to send Galahad next.’

‘Forcing our Galahad into some down time, are we?’

‘No idea what you’re talking about, sir, it’s just procedure.’ There’s a glint in Merlin’s eye that says otherwise, but nothing he says will change their minds. This wasn’t the first time they’d pulled such tricks, merely the most recent. Arthur dismissed Merlin with a smile, and he and Harry finished their tea with non-work related chatter.

‘I have some errands- a few days home shouldn’t be too tedious.’

He was wrong. Harry Hart was many things and now he would be adding wrong to the list. A few days on home soil with no clear objective or clear end in sight was tortuous. He’d taken to pestering Merlin for updates every few hours, which had resulted in him being locked out of his office and the direct link from his glasses being shut off.

‘Any reason in particular there’s a picture of Merlin’s face taped to that punching bag?’ The voice comes from behind him, bemused and unfamiliar, and Harry turns to find the minion from before. Shit.

‘Needed to let off some steam- Merlin’s decided to force some down time upon me, but I have nothing to do.’

‘That so? Still doesn’t explain why you’re punching his face like that.’

‘Sure it does- he’s insufferable and I can’t take it out on him in person.’

‘Isn’t there anything else you can do to pass your time?’

‘I’ve already finished all of my reports- and I’m doing the only other thing I can here at the gym.’

‘You could go for a swim- or the obstacle course! That one’s always fun. Or family to visit, or something?’

‘Been there, done that; and the obstacle course is only fun the first few times. Doing it on repeat for days takes it away. And no, they all died years ago. Just me and Kingsman.’

‘You need to get out more. Come with me.’ Lunete had one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets, and a smirk on his face like he’s got a fabulous joke but won’t share it.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well I was going to head home and hang out with my mother and sister, but you need a night out. Come on, then.’

‘I barely know you.’

‘First off, we both work at Kingsman, so how dangerous can I be to you; and second your file’s public to those of us in the Lake, so I know all about you- you could come out and even the score?’

‘I think you’re just trying to keep me from beating Merlin the next time he emerges from his cave.’

‘Eh, that’s just a pleasant bonus.’

Eggsy ended up bringing Harry to the first pub he saw between the mews and Kingsman- in the opposite direction from the one Harry’d left his “you told me so” drink at. It wouldn’t do to be recognised since he was doing some serious posh-acting; he didn’t want the jig to be up too soon.

On the one hand, it was annoying as fuck to act like someone he wasn’t for longer than he absolutely had to. Arthur and his cronies were bad enough on site let alone out in public. On the other, though, it was probably the closest he’d get to actual spy work even if it was all for his own benefit.

But, even as they sat across from one another at a booth and talked aimlessly about nothing, Eggsy could see Harry relaxing despite himself. He’d talk about some mishap in R&D and Harry would laugh until he was wiping at his eyes; and Harry would tell some story about his dog (the fuck kind of name was Mr. Pickle, anyway?) which would prompt him to talk about JB, and inevitably end up in giggles.

Eggsy relished the opportunity to see what Harry was like outside of a mission, and what he acted like with someone he wasn’t strangely obsessed with. Now that he thought about it, Harry probably saw him as a mystery he wanted to solve. He wouldn’t be interested once the mystique was gone, no matter what he said to the contrary.

Even more motivation to make this mask believable. No way for Harry to connect the two.

Harry, on the other hand, was enchanted with the surprisingly eloquent man. He lamented not having met him before, but resolved to get to know him better now. Merlin certainly wouldn’t begrudge him a friendship with one of his minions, would he?

—

‘Lunete! Package for you.’

‘Another one?’

It had been a few months since Eggsy’d taken Harry out to that pub in the guise of Lunete- and for some odd reason Harry had decided that the best way to cultivate a friendship with him was through obnoxious souvenirs. The kind of things Eggsy thought of when Harry threatened to gift him with “the most awful thing” he could find in wherever the fuck he was for a mission. Eggsy wondered if these were Harry’s idea of good souvenirs and, if so, allowed himself a shudder at the possibilities “the most awful thing” suggested.

Today’s mystery package wasn’t very large- which eliminated another taxidermied animal- and it wasn’t very heavy- which eliminated a new creepy looking statue.

If Eggsy hadn’t already known Harry outside of Lunete he’d have run for the hills after the first package. There’s eccentric and then there’s eccentric and while the former was interesting the latter was incredibly creepy. As it was Eggsy worried about his sanity, though he probably shouldn’t, as most of the Knights had something incredibly strange they loved. Gawaine had a collection of cat statues, Bors kept bits of rubble, and Percival collected local animal teeth. He’d resolved to never ask where he got them, no matter how elegant they looked once he’d polished them.

The sight of them with bits of gum still attached made an impression, to say the least.

Steeling himself, Eggsy cut the tape and pulled open the flaps before he could talk himself out of it, one eye closed while the other squinted into the box.

There was a note.

Lunete, I saw this while in Switzerland and was captivated before remembering that I had no one to gift such a thing. But I remembered that you mentioned a sister all that time ago, and picked it up anyway. I’ve no idea how old she is (for all your chatter you’re surprisingly difficult to get information from) but if nothing else you can give it to your mother or something.

Reaching blindly into the packing chips he grasped the first solid object he came into contact with. It was box-like, cool to the touch, and thus far made no noise which eliminated several possibilities- and pulling it out Eggsy gasped.

It was elegant, carved in cherry wood and smooth as silk; the designs were all floral, likely roses or carnations or something. It wasn’t the kind of thing Eggsy would have picked up on a whim, but the kind of timeless beauty he could see being passed down or inherited. Opening the lid, Eggsy was a bit startled to be greeted with music- who made music boxes this gorgeous? The tune was familiar, if a bit sped up, but he couldn’t resist humming along.

And then, giggling to himself, he penned a response.

Well, Galahad, I certainly have no use for something as pretty as this myself, and Daisy’s a bit young for it, but my mother will love it. Thank you for the rarity that is a gift that doesn’t haunt my (or the rest of us Minions’) nightmares. Seriously. They’re haunting. But I’ll certainly be that someone who’ll watch over you.

Gershwin? Really? Could have at least been a typical Mozart or something but you had to go and get something classy and unexpected.

—

Eggsy certainly hadn’t expected his bit of fun to bite him in the arse quite so immediately. Harry’s flirting hadn’t lessened any over the coms, but now it was accompanied by humming. Incessant humming that matched the music box that now lay atop his mother’s dresser.

'Fuuuuuuck.’

'I’m not your agony aunt, Eggsy, take your self-created issues elsewhere.’

'But he’s gonna figure it out, Merls!’

'Again, not my problem. Get back to R&D or research Galahad’s next assignment, I don’t care, but get out of my hair.’

'But you don’t have any-’

'Finish that sentence and I’ll delight in telling him myself. I’ll make a power point with all the evidence, and finish with your address so he can-’

'Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll just go curl up and die at my desk. An’ you’ll have to break the news to Daisy.’

'Far be it for me to interrupt your plans for spontaneous expiration.’

—

'So, Eggsy,’

’Don’ even start, Galahad. Up the stairs and to your right- the painting of some posh knobhead with blue boots is hollow.’

'You don’t even know what I was going to say!’

'Half the shit from your mouth during these missions is either you tryin’ to talk me out of the plans I make to keep your sorry arse alive, or flirtin’ with me despite the fact that we’ve never actually met in person. As you ain’t fightin’ the plan, I assume your next words were gonna be some persuasive argument about the pleasures of the flesh. Again.’ He let a little of his irritation slip through, though mostly he was just nervous about Harry connecting him and Lunete. He knew it would happen eventually, but fuck it didn’t need to be now.

’… Got the file.’ Harry said reluctantly, almost a sigh, and for a moment Eggsy wondered if he’d somehow gone too far despite not changing his reactions to his flirting in the first place. 'On my way to extraction.’ The playful edge that had come to be the highlight of these missions was missing. A Galahad subdued and not in the I-made-a-mistake-and-got-briefly-captured-again way.

It left Eggsy feeling off-kilter. And incredibly worried.

'Job well done, Galahad. Debrief at 1000.’ Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything after all.

—

'Dare I ask what happened to put this kicked puppy look on your face, Harry?’

'I’ve been ridiculous and making unwanted advances on a man I have never seen.’

'You’re always ridiculous.’

'I’ve never even met the man and his voice is the brightest part of my missions.’

'As I’ve already said once of late I am not an agony aunt and I have no desire or true advice to give you. Outside of, oh, I don’t know, perhaps asking to meet in person?’

'He shoots down my advances-’

'Likely because that’s what they are? Advances, obviously geared toward a goal that doesn’t happen to stop at friendship or likely involve it at all.’ Merlin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, 'Why do you care so much, anyway?’

'Eggsy’s never treated me like a superior officer. He’s never acted like he was beneath me for being behind the coms instead of in the field. He’s honest and rude and makes me laugh and somehow I’ve fallen for him despite not knowing the shape of his face or the colour of his eyes- the timbre of his laugh is enough.’

'I was expecting something more like “he’s a shit like me and I don’t want to ruin our working relationship” but leave it to you, Hart, to make it about feelings. What kind of spy are you?’

'A good one, I hope, to have made it this far into my lifespan.’

'Only by the grace of excellent handling.’

'Ah, the great Merlin, so humble.’

'I was referring to Eggsy- you caused me to lose the last of my hair, I have no patience for your showmanship, and your unparalleled ability to destroy my tech means that I tolerate you at best when I’m handling you.’ And there it was, the shame, at reducing a brilliant handler to a seductive voice through no actions but his own.

'I don’t want to lose him.’ It’s whispered, eyes staring at a spot on the wall and completely missing the pitying look Merlin throws his way.

'Then be honest, you great pillock, and talk to him. Not your weird proposition shit, either- I have to go through your mission footage and some of that… You’re not going to get anywhere with some bad pickup lines and innuendo.’ Merlin pushes his glasses up his face and turned away, tapping at his clipboard, 'And that’s all I have for you today. Please vacate the premises or I shall be forced to do something terrible to another one of your fetishistic loo butterflies.’

'Fine, fine, I’m goi- wait, what do you mean another?!’

—

‘Eggsy.’ He’s holed up in a supply closet, as cliche as one can be, but he will be there for an undetermined amount of time and he is just absolutely done with the stilted, awkward, handling of this mission.

‘Dare I ask, Galahad?’

‘I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me.’ He tries to press as much sincerity into the phrase as he can, hoping beyond hope that he can somehow repair what he hadn’t realised he was breaking. ‘I know that I can be a bit much, but I don’t want you to think that I’m this way with the rest of the Lake. I simply have no idea of how to keep your attention.’

‘It is literally my job, Galahad, to keep my attention focused on ou ad get your arse home safely.’ Eggsy was confused, and maybe a little hopeful. He’d felt bereft without Harry’s incessant nattering, but hadn’t known how to fix it- maybe this was it.

‘I was rather hoping to keep your attention while off-mission, as well.’ Eggsy nearly groaned, but took a moment to think on the situation. Harry wasn’t being actively flirty, the tone was all wrong; if Eggsy didn’t know any better he’d say that the great Harry Hart sounded nervous.

‘With more soul-damaging relics from your missions like the ones you send Lunete?’

‘No- well, correction, not only with carefully-chosen pieces. I-’ Harry paused, and Eggsy realised that this was, indeed, an honest conversation that Harry was trying to have with him. ‘I would like for us to meet. Formally, face-to-face, give myself a visual to go with the auditory man who has consumed my attentions for quite some time. I understand that there is no reason for you to believe me, given my previous actions, but I’ll readily admit to having had no other idea of how to express my interest. Merlin can tell you that outside of a mission I’ve never been particularly graceful or smooth when it came to potential romantic partners.

‘I find that I’ve become enchanted with the idea of you, and would greatly appreciate the opportunity to discover if my fantasies even touch upon the reality of you as a person.’

Eggsy literally had no idea of how to progress from here. Despite his own infatuations with the man, he’d dismissed Harry’s words as empty and with this revelation had no idea of how to progress. Forget the conundrum of Eggsy and Lunete being the same person- this was a problem now, and Merlin had probably known all along and that fucker hadn’t even tried to warn him.

'We’ll see Galahad,’ Eggsy fought to keep his voice playful, to not give away his scrambling for a proper answer, 'you’ve got to get your way out of this shit first. An’ maybe, maybe, we’ll see about gettin’ a drink or something.’ And now Eggsy was back to cursing his mouth for running ahead of his brain and making promises he probably couldn’t keep.

Harry continued to pretend that the pounding of his heart was due to his circumstances in the mission and not due to the tantalising possibility of meeting Eggsy proper at long last.

—

Of course, Harry had managed the near impossible and completed the mission both on time and without any grievous injury to himself. Or to his target, which was a positive as he’d been tasked with surveillance and strictly told not to engage which are rules the man usually took as a challenge.

Merlin googled at the record when it was brought to him, and Eggsy took a seat across from the man as he reviewed the contents.

‘He didn’t make an uncouth comment and get chased from the grounds?’ The again went unsaid.

‘No.’

‘And he didn’t continue to press you about going out after you gave him a solid maybe?’ Merlin sounded as incredulous as Eggsy felt.

‘Nope.’ Eggsy was in more than a fair bit of shock. On the one hand, Harry had achieved the objective while Eggsy had been in his ear. So that was a point for both of them, for Eggsy’s success as Handler and Harry’s as Knight; but the hows of it. Harry had done all of it because Eggsy had said they might get to meet if Harry did what needed to be done. The mere idea of getting to meet had given Harry enough cause to have achieved a nearly impossible feat for him.

‘I’m no’ one to butt into personal business-’

‘I fuckin’ know that, Merlin- you practically set this shit up by keepin’ to yourself.’ Eggsy grumbled, crossing his arms and slumping in the chair.

‘But perhaps, lad, Harry’s more than a bit serious about this.’ Merlin continued as if uninterrupted, and Eggsy looked away.

‘D’you really think so?’

‘The only way you’re going to know is if you actually talk to him and stop with this weird double life you’ve made for yourself and no,’ Merlin wagged a finger angrily, ‘I am not going to help you fix this shit. You dug this hole, make your own way out of it.

‘I certainly hope that you continue to inspire this out of him and he doesn’t corrupt you instead.’

Eggsy stayed in that chair long after Merlin had returned to his own tasks, wondering just what he was going to do. He had two obvious options: he could meet Harry in person and come clean- or he could really chav it up and hope Harry wouldn’t be able to see Lunete in Eggsy.

But, to be honest, Eggsy was getting real tired of having to keep track of who he had to be at any given moment. What Lunete knew versus what Eggsy knew and where they could overlap believably with them both being in the Lake. It was getting exhausting, and even with the possibility of losing Harry entirely through this fiasco, Eggsy was just. So. Tired. And maybe that wasn’t the best reason to stop leading a double life but it was the one he had.

So, there, that was one decision made- a pretty big one, too. Now he just had to hold himself to it.

But that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for the man; maybe he could get one last bit of fun from this fiasco.

–

Harry’s office at headquarters was very secure. Merlin never let anyone in or out without his say so, even when the door was unlocked he’d lock it just as someone was reaching for the handle just to be a shit.

So the box on his desk was a terrifying surprise. First because he’d had no idea that anyone had been in his office- but mostly because of the contents. The outside was so unassuming that Harry had reached in without a second thought and immediately regretted the action.

‘What the fuck is this shit?’

‘It happens to be a gift, you idiot, if you’d bothered to read the card prior to sticking your hand inside?’ Melin chimed in from the glasses, and Harry flipped him off smoothly with one hand as the other shut the glasses down. So what if he was right, it was the principle of the thing.

Harry pulled out the thing that had stabbed his finger, and was greeted with the most obnoxiously American thing he had ever seen. Intricately carved, it would be a work or artistry if it weren’t for the obnoxious colouring. A bald eagle sitting on a branch, a snake in its grasp, with everything but the bird in natural colours- the eagle was painted as the Americal Flag. It was the end of a wing that had stabbed him, curled upward in a parody of landing from flight. It was atrocious.

‘What. the fuck. Is this shit?’ Harry warily stuck his arm back into the box of packing chips, feeling about for any additional hidden monstrosity, but came up empty. ‘No note?’ Harry began to turn the box about, half tempted to “accidentally” knock the statue from his desk- but he knew that if it had ended up here then the sender would discover the untimely demise. And, heaven forbid, send a replacement. On the end that had been facing his chair there was a small note, taped and half falling off the side of the cardboard.

Let’s play hide and seek, Galahad. You’re it. -Eggsy

Harry pulled the note and examined the writing closely. The ink was partially bled through in some spots, as if he’d hesitated while writing it, and it looked to have been written by one of the Kingsman issued pens- not the ones with the poison, but the ones used for official paperwork, with the combustible ink. Just in case, you see, someone ever managed to get their hands on confidential paperwork. Which eliminated a great many people, as the only people to use them casually were the Minions, who used them for everything by default.

As if sparked by this train of thought, the ink began to eat through the paper. Well, that route of examination was out. Eggsy had mentioned more than once the trinkets Harry would send to Lunete, so it was entirely possible that this gift was poking fun at his habit of choosing memorable items for the man, but to that end it also firmly pointed Harry to a particular collective of Minions: Merlin’s favourites. Unfortunately, codenames meant very little overall within the walls of the place- but real names were rare. It was far more difficult to ask after Richard than Bors, for example, because much like in faerie courts real names held power and were rarely shared.

So asking for Eggsy would get him nowhere, unless he was asking Merlin directly, but the man had been of no help thus far and would likely continue on that trend for a while yet. So he was on his own to solve this mystery. Which meant he had to rely upon his already collected knowledge far more than present clues.

Eggsy was a man with a simple- no, humble- past, who had come to Kingsman from the Army where Merlin had spotted him causing some trouble. Eggsy’d been confronted by his SO and had been quite contrite to admit that he’d been messing with the tech because he was bored and had lost his sense of purpose when those around him didn’t seem to care about the why as much as the when. He’d had a note put into his file, and Merlin had snatched him up immediately. Harry was still unsure of why Merlin had been watching the man in the first place, as there were so many people potential to sort through at any time and only a finite number of places to put them. Harry figured it was like applying to an Ivy League school you didn’t know was considering you. Incredibly selective- so what had pulled Merlin’s attention to him?

But that wasn’t the concern at the moment. With what he knew about Eggsy, could he find him on the grounds? What did he care about, what did he mention liking about Kingsman, where would he have the highest likelihood of spotting the man in time to win this game. Harry wasn’t even entirely sure what he was competing for- but he was a vain man and desired victory for the sake of it just as much as any prize.

Harry had never bothered to learn the things a Handler would- but he could strategise if he could only decide what direction to go in. Top to bottom? One end to the other? From the centre outwards, or vice versa? Simplest would be top to bottom, as the roof provided a finite amount of space he could go- so to the roof it was. He wasn’t so desperate as to climb the sides of the building, and opted instead to take the service stairs to the top level and find a window that overlooked a bit of the roof and meander is way from there.

Which actually ended up being surprisingly difficult, but once he had found an acceptable exit he also stumbled upon another note taped to it.

Let’s play a game, mate- well, another one, waiting in one spot is just so boring y’know? I’m hanging out with the rest of the Minions til ‘bout 3 where you left me my drink way back when. Find me. That little shit had been here, how long ago was anyone’s guess, and instead of following through on whatever his original plot had been had changed the rules. As if Harry had known what they were in the first place, but the point remained that he’d changed the rules without warning or explanation.

But wasn’t that just like Eggsy, to at one moment follow plans to the letter and the next follow Harry’s lead on a whim? The fact that they were always successful could more likely be attributed to luck than any actual skill, but Harry was willing to take what the universe deigned to gift him. So he huffed a laugh and made his way back to his office, checking himself idly in the window as he removed his tie and popped a button or two. Going around to a pub while dressed to the nines, while safe in a Kingsman suit, was making himself a spectacle and if he intended to actually find Eggsy he needed to be able to blend in- at least a little. He removed his glasses, and mussed his hair just enough that it looked purposefully dishevelled as opposed to perfectly organised.

Harry made his way down to the pub, one he frequented and thus was able to pull favours with, and nodded at the barman who smoothly slid his pint down the bartop to his waiting hand as he sat at his regular spot at the bar. No words having to be exchanged, which freed him up to idly glance about the room. There were some outside seats but it was easier to hide in a crowd, and easier still to disappear with staff constantly moving about, if you knew when and how to do so. Which was usually a skill Knights honed and Minions of the Lake dismissed as unnecessary. The likelihood of their being spotted, let alone pursued, was miniscule- so why waste the energy that could be dedicated to other things instead?

There was a group of younger people in the corner booth, only a half dozen or so, about half wearing very familiar glasses. Now to spot his target proper. There was a young woman leaning intimately into the side of one of the men without glasses, with dark brown hair and pale eyes. That was Agravaine and Blanchefleur, then, as they were the topic of many Knights who were critical of relationships from within. And, honestly, how did they expect to achieve any sense of intimacy with someone outside of Kingsman, anyway? But that eliminated two suspects. There was his regular pilot, Houdain, with whom he’d shared many idle conversations of the last couple years. His accent was similar to Eggsy’s, but not so much so that he could ever have confused one for the other.

Three down, three to go.

There was another young woman with short cropped red hair, sans glasses but obviously sporting a pair of Kingsman brogues, bent nearly in double as she laughed- inelegantly snorting. She slapped the glasses off the man sat across from her in her antics, simply by waving her arms about, and Harry was grateful to know that she was not a Knight. If she were in this collective she obviously had immense amounts of talent behind the scenes, but something like that could make or break a mission. Which was entirely off topic, but Harry’s head was running in a million directions as he caught sight of the last two members of the table.

One was a driver that he knew quite well, Ither, who had always been up for a joyride while escaping their pursuants. The other was Lunete.

So Eggsy had lied, then. He wasn’t here after all. He turned back to his drink as a way to distract himself, observing the condensation run down the glass, and pretended that disappointment was not a bitter pill to swallow.

Except, suddenly, he heard a very distinct ‘you’re fucking jokin’, bruv!’ he knew without a doubt that Eggsy was in that group. His head snapped up just in time to see Lunete slap Houdain playfully on the shoulder, the latter covering his mouth with one hand while shaking with laughter.

‘Swear down, Eggs, I couldn’ make that shit up if I tried.’

‘The fuck was Lancelot thinkin’, tryin’ to make a jump like that in that outfit? She gave someone a lucky view, then?’ Ither looked as if Christmas had come early, a very Grinch-like smirk on his face at the thought, but Houdain shook his head.

‘The street was clear, luck with her, so she didn’t flash no one- but lots o’ people complained about the thumpin’ from the roof, next day.’ Lunete shook his head as Houdain finished, but Harry’s mind had stopped a bit before.

Eggs. Eggsy. Harry ran the facts over in his mind as he took another idle gulp of his Guinness; Eggsy spoke often of Lunete’s gifts, he obviously knew Harry quite well after all the time of being in his ear, was well-liked and trusted by Merlin (who else would he trust his oldest friends’ safety to, if not someone he trusted?), and suddenly he couldn’t unlink the two. Lunete was Eggsy.

Lunete was Eggsy.

Lunete was Eggsy and he’d already had a drink with the man and he’d never let it on. He’d not even hinted that he’d been hiding anything; to hide such a thing from a Knight was impressive in and of itself. He’d been sure to keep their interactions regular, had never hinted at- well, hinted at what, exactly? Had Eggsy thought anything of their pint, that day, and what of the gifts? Why had he hidden himself so thoroughly within the walls of Kingsman that it took a ducking scavenger hunt for Harry to figure it out? It was not as if Kingsan was particularly judgemental- well, no, that was a lie. Arthur was a prick.

Ah. Prejudice based around the way one walks. And talks. The things that are the quickest to reveal oneself as “other” in a collective of men from money. Arthur was quick to anger and quicker to insult, if only ever backhandedly, so the ability to blend in was imperative- he guessed- to Eggsy being able to do as he needed. Drivers and Pilots were often silent until prompted and prodded into speaking- a Handler was easily identified and exposed by voice. To affect an accent in the presence of those who would look down on you for being different was entirely understandable.

But had Eggsy truly thought that Harry would judge him in that way? Had he not been clear with his affections through the coms? Short of screaming it from the rooftops he’d done all he could to show Eggsy that he thought the world of him. But… but perhaps that was what had kept him away. If someone is showy, you never take their actions or words at face value. Never. It’s survival one-oh-one, and Harry kicks himself for not connecting the dots sooner.

Every bit of tension in his body began to loosen as Eggsy turned around, just enough for Harry to admire the cut of his jaw and the upturn of his lip as he winked. At him. That cheeky arsehole. Harry didn’t hear the particulars, but Eggsy was excusing himself from the group with a smile and making his way toward Harry- and what was Harry going to say when he finally got there?

‘Hey, Harry.’ Eggsy slid into the seat beside him and nudged one shoulder with his own, sloshing what little was left in Harry’s glass. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘You led me here, and yet you’re the one claiming to be surprised?’

‘Weren’t sure you was gonna find that window, guv, but you managed that shit in record time you did.’

‘So you set me up to fail?’ Harry finished his drink before he turned and lifted a brow, and Eggsy had the gall to laugh.

‘Nah, I set you a challenge and you met it. Exceeded expectations and all that shit. So, now, I’m an open book- what d’you want to know?’ He lifted a hand to the barkeep and accepted to proffered drinks with a grin.

‘Why?’

‘Why’d I leave you messages?’

‘Why this double life in the first place? What’s the truth here, Eggsy?’ Harry looked away, tips of his ears pink, and Eggsy paused for a moment before speaking.

‘I was scared- terrified, even- of you connectin’ Lunete an’ Eggsy. You’re a posh man, you got class out your arse and you’re fit and funny and I knew you were leagues away from me in life. You’d flirt with Eggsy, but Lunete was a mystery an’ you treated him like any other bloke while at the pub an’ then started sendin’ gifts and shit.’ Eggsy ran a hand through his hair and looked ruefully at Harry, ‘You was thoughtful and flirty and it made me fall more for you that I had already.’

‘That doesn’t explain-’

‘Gettin’ there, Harry. Promise. When I started at Kingsman, I’d barely walked in and Arthur looked down his nose at me and sneered that he didn’ want to see my face again. I thought I’d been dismissed b’fore I could start, but Merlin drew me aside. Tol’ me to ignore Arthur an’ that he was my boss an’ til he said leave I weren’t to so much as think about the door. But,’ Eggsy shook his head, ‘he gave me the name Lunete, an’ said to make it someone Arthur wouldn’ look twice at.’

‘So you made yourself unremarkable.’ Harry concurred, and tipped his glass in his direction, but Eggsy shrugged.

‘I made myself what he was lookin’ for. Growin’ up at the Estates, after dad died, you learn how to read people an’ make yourself what you gotta be to get by, Jamal and Ryan know all the same shit I do- they just don’t gotta use it as often. But,’ Eggsy grinned, ‘to explain the rest of this shit you get a bit of a story.

‘See, you an’ I’ve met before all this shit. Merlin and I had a bit of a laugh about it once I’d settled in. Y’see, once upon a time,’ Eggsy reached into his collar and began to pull on a chain, ‘you came by my place an’ left this with me for safe keeping.’ He opened his palm, and Harry forgot to breathe.

‘Oh my god. Eggsy.’ Harry breathed, in disbelief at having forgotten the child. It was a memorable name, and yet Harry hadn’t recognised it when they’d crossed paths again. ‘Eggcy Unwin- you’re Lee’s boy.’

‘Yeah, an’ that’s the other thing- I didn’ know if you’d still fancy me, flirty and shit, once you knew that. Still don’t know, actually, but I got tired of pretendin’ at you. The way I figure, this shit goes one of two ways, yeah? Either we get on as mates an’ we move on, or this shit’s blown us to bits and we never speak again.’ Eggsy spoke as if either option was acceptable, but Harry could see the tension in his jaw and fondly thought of him as an idiot. As if there were only ever two choices when it came to life.

‘You’ve left something out, Eggsy.’ Harry spoke blandly, allowing himself a small smirk around the lip of his glass, before setting it down and facing Eggsy fully. He waited for Eggsy to look at him and not the tabletop, but he seemed to be doing everything in his power not to do so.

‘Oh?’ Eggsy didn’t dare look at Harry- he didn’t want a fatherly pat on the shoulder, or apologies for how his life’d turnt out- but when Harry’s hand landed heavily on the wrist clutching his glass his head snapped up.

Harry’s eyes flicked to his lips so quickly Eggsy swore he’d imagined it before there were lips against his own. Insistent yet chaste, Harry pulled Eggsy to him by framing his face with both hands. His fingertips cradling his jaw with what Eggsy could only describe as reverement. His eyes slipped closed, and just as Harry began to pull his hands away Eggsy made a soft noise of protest before leaning inward and pressing his insistently back. One hand held him steady on the countertop as the other wound itself into Harry’s hair as they began to lose time.

They broke apart to jeering from the other Minions, ‘get it, Eggs!’ and the two flipped the group off with a united two finger salute before dissolving into giggles.

‘Do they even recognise me?’ Harry breathed into Eggsy’s ear, and he shook his head in reply. ‘Well, they’re quite enthusiastic about your “getting it” from a man they don’t know.’

‘Like to hope they trust my judgement.’ Eggsy laughed, feeling high from the realisation that his antics hadn’t cost him a chance with the man before him. He pulled back, allowing himself to do a full once-over of Harry’s look- he looked gorgeous like this, ever so slightly undone, and Eggsy hadn’t let himself really realise it before that moment.

‘There’s never only two options, Eggsy. You know that as well as anyone.’ Harry smiled softly, running his thumb along his cheekbone.

‘Yeah, well, forgive me for puttin’ this option from my head after havin’ lied to you for so long. An’ forget the fact that I’m nowhere near your league.’

‘We’re spies, Eggsy- lying is easy as breathing and takes half the thought of the truth. Not saying that I’m not a bit frustrated- but that’s more at my inability to be observant than your Parent Trap-ing me. And,’ Harry firmed the grip upon his face, ‘if I hear you dismiss yourself so easily again you’ll soon regret it. I love you, and if you find your own judgements are faulty then trust my own.’

‘You love me?’ Eggsy breathed, eyes wide like a child seeing art for the first time, and Harry allowed himself to drink his fill of the image before replying.

‘Well, I love what I know of you- both what you told me as Lunete and what I’ve come to know through our missions- and I look forward to loving the rest of you.’

‘Might take a while.’

‘Well, we have a while.’ The two pulled enough apart to finish their drinks, a pair of hands clasped between them as if to separate would break the spell.

#Dagonet Writes #Kingsman fic #shriekingpersonality #I swore I would finish it #and I have #BUT I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT #will crosspost to AO3 eventually

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