#so many times people start to ramble in these quick fire type of ask games and it's like

[thesolferino]

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.” 

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?” 

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity. 

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.” 

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?” 

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him. 

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task. 

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones. 

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back. 

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone. 

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind. 

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks. 

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you. 

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation. 

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters. 

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained. 

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.” 

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.” 

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.” 

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling. 

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened. 

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message. 

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated? 

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame. 

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.  

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.  

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.  

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you. 

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.  

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”  

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.  

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee. 

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.  

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares. 

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”  

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

Was he? Flirting?  

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.  

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.  

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.  

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”  

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.  

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you.  In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.  

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.  

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.  

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.  

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.  

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.  

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.  

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.  

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”  

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.  

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”  

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”  

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”  

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile.  Ah, there it is.  

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”  

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.  

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.  

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.  

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”  

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.  

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”  

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”  

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”  

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”  

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?” 

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”  

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight. 

Let’s see where this goes. 

Chapter 2

#choi yeonjun #tomorrow by together scenarios #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fluff #choi soobin #soobin scenarios #soobin fluff #soobin angst #soobin smut #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #choi yeonjun scenarios #choi yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun imagine #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #taehyun txt #hueningkai txt

[redqueen-hypothesis]

quarantime together ➳ mlqc

➳ WORD COUNT: 3064

➳ GENRE: fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: what are the two of you up to during the quarantine together?

LUCIEN // has a shady history with viruses and flus

lucien has insider info on the virus as one of the most acclaimed researchers (although he’s a neuroscientist but at this point what is lucien), so he’s long prepared for the lockdown before loveland even gets a wind of it happening

he’s part of the team that’s doing research on the virus too, just... remote

did you think that just because he’s staying at home, there’s no more work to be done? no, the man works just as intensely as ever, researching, inputting algorithms, double checking the data on his research reports. you need to remind him to take a break every few hours

you’ve asked him to set an alarm on his phone but all he does is smile and wrap his arms around you tighter, saying that you’re much more pleasant and persuasive to listen to

knows you’re stressed about the virus and shares with you tidbits of information about it, explaining to you how the two of you should be fine just as long as you stay inside your apartment. together.

you get to see him in his glasses more often, which you find far too attractive when paired with that silently intense gaze he wears while buried deep in work. he looks up on occasion to catch you staring with far too wide eyes. caught red handed (or red faced)

what you don’t realise is that he’s watching you too, he’s just faster at looking away before you realise he’s looking at you with an impossibly tender gaze

when you whine a little about wanting to take this opportunity to spend more time with him, lucien doesn’t show it on his face, but his heart feels like it’s warming- oh, it’s melting in his chest

starts cooking dinner with you

much to your surprise, lucien can’t do everything (no, there’s something he actually can’t do) and cooking is one of them. he’s not fantastic at it, or maybe he’s just doing this on purpose so that you have to guide his hands with your own as he helps to chop the vegetables

leans down for you to tie the apron around his neck, and sneaks a gentle kiss or two when you’re most unprepared for it, much to your surprise (and happiness)

pulls you to him out of the blue and squeezes you around the waist before he releases you, saying the temperature is cold and he needs something to warm him up

in the evenings, the two of you snuggle of the couch together to watch old classic films that you’ve either rented out or dug out on netflix, sharing a blanket between the two of you

lucien engages you in discussion about the shows, from what you love about them to what you think of the characters, and sometimes if you’re lucky, lucien will let you pry just a little bit more about the enigma that he is - you feel like he’s unlocked a door to his heart only when he’s around you

occasional anime marathons, you didn’t think that he’d like them, but he seems to have quite an interest in attack of titan season three and death note

prepare for a psychological analysis of the man that is eren yeager

the two of you talk late into the night, until your discussions become more sleep drunk ramblings than any coherent thoughts, and lucien loves it because you’re so much more open and free about letting him know your opinion so much that he doesn’t realise he’s doing the same

lowkey wondering if he should prolong the virus somehow just so the two of you can remain in this little love nest for a little longer

coaxes you into the bedroom when you fall asleep on his shoulder, tucks you up in the blanket before he resumes his research (honestly, does this man ever sleep?)

if you wake up in the middle of the night to see him still typing away on his laptop, your sleepy voice gently scolding him for not taking care of his own health and the hand tugging at his shoulder is more than enough for him to set down his work for the night and join you in bed

he spends just a little longer watching your sleeping face before he joins you in your dreams

VICTOR // monopoly king

daily panique about the stock market (but he does it elegantly, so it’s panique instead of panic, he’s not emotional like other foolish mortals)

wakes up at the brink of dawn, this man is the head of the loveland financial group, a mere virus isn’t going to bring his company down and he knows that he’ll need to work extra to ensure his workers still have jobs to do

cooks breakfast for you while you’re still asleep while listening to the news on the television, gives you updates when you wake up

if you wake up early to the absence of warmth in your shared bed, however, you might catch the rare sight of the one and only li zeyan humming a tune as he beats eggs in what he thinks is an empty kitchen, or stumble upon him having a staring match with the oven

tries to sneakily slip food and drinks that he knows are good for relaxing the body and mind because you’ve been on edge with each news report of the virus that comes in, you notice the new trend in chamomile tea and dark chocolate, but silently eat it up with a smile and thank him for it - let this awkward man show his love in his ways

extremely busy from morning to afternoon with video conferences and phone calls, you press gentle kisses between his furrowed brow between meetings and watch as his expression relaxes before the phone starts ringing again

make a cup of tea or coffee for him, he appreciates it

there’s one time you kissed him on the mouth thinking he was on break but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t until you realised victor had frozen stiff as a board that it clicked - the entire board of the LFG had been watching through the video camera

you’re never stepping foot into that building ever again

even though he’s ridiculously busy with work, victor makes an effort to spend some time with you throughout his busy day. these usually happen in the fifteen minute to hour long breaks between his meetings

he needs something simple and easy to do with you in those small pockets of time

so, card/board games!

the only game he can play decently at the beginning is poker, but is absolutely terrible at uno and monopoly - he’s never actually played them before

calls these games silly at first, but by the third day he’s actually stopping time before his next meeting starts just so that he can count the reverse uno cards he’s put down and ensure his victory

becomes an absolute beast at monopoly and crushes you completely, you sort of regret teaching him this game because he starts educating you on economic theories

“you must buy as many properties as possible at the beginning, there is no reward without risk... this is the game of monopoly... become the monopoly!”

you just shake your head with a sigh. ah, the menace of capitalism.

he fares worse at monopoly deal, looks absolutely stunned at the idea of a ‘deal breaker’ and ‘just say no’

works out in his apartment gym and occasionally pulls you along, saying that you need to exercise and stay healthy or you’ll become a couch potato

you reluctantly go along with him but you’re rewarded with the sight of him working out, i assure you, it’s very worth it

sometimes you shower together which leads to more... if you get what i mean wink wonk

you help him with dinner prep, which is mainly you watching as he whips up a michelin worthy meal for the two of you

you claim you’re helping with the taste testing

that also leads to more. victor enjoys eating off the kitchen island - and more importantly, he enjoys eating you out on it

opens a bottle of wine or whiskey for sometimes no reason at all at night, just to enjoy it with you

the two of you sit at the balcony overlooking the entirety of loveland city from his penthouse, sipping at your wine and talking about everything and anything

dumb arguments like “you stole the entire pile of fifties when i wasn’t looking earlier???” victor is kind of a sore loser

you take some time out to teach him how to play on the piano, what’s the use of that ridiculously expensive grand piano in his penthouse otherwise?

it takes him two nights to learn simple pieces like “ode to joy” and three for “you are my sunshine”, he hasn’t touched the piano for a few years

the eager, almost child-like determination he wears on his face makes your heart warm as he fumbles to place his fingers on the right keys, and you play simple duets together

bedtime snuggles, victor cancels all his late night meetings or postpones them to earlier schedules so that he can hold you close in bed at night

realises what he’s been missing out the entire time and can’t believe that it needed the quarantine to let him know how much he loves falling asleep with you in his arms

resolves to do this more often after the lockdown is over

GAVIN // keep the fire station on speed dial

the entire of loveland city is under lockdown but unfortunately crimes are still happening - the criminals must not have gotten their stay at home notices

even though crime rates have dipped, there are still strange occurrences happening in the city here and there

the police force is still an essential service, and gavin is called out of the blue at the most awkward hours (when you’re eating, when you’re sleeping, when you’re having sex-) to handle high profile cases

you fuss about him while he’s rushing to change into his uniform, securing a mask on his face with a quick kiss to the lips before you put it on to hide his blushing cheeks

never uses the door, just straight up jumps out of your window like a cat burglar running off with your heart

you’re always worried, but gavin reassures you he’ll take care of himself and stay away from people on the ground - he can’t risk getting infected and passing it on to you

buys takeaway snacks and boba for you because he knows you’ve missed them

crashes on the couch if he comes back at odd hours because he’s too tired to get to the bed, wakes up to a blanket draped over him and the smell of frying eggs wafting over from the kitchen

at first he’s a little at a loss for what to do with so much free time, but you encourage him to pick up old hobbies he’s long forgotten about by asking him to share them with you

wii games!! nintendo switch!! xbox!! you’ve never seen gavin’s face light up so fast when he delivers a critical hit to your character in super smash bros... and immediately starts spluttering apologies to you like he’s committed a cardinal sin

kiss him to shut him up, and he sinks into it with a muffled sigh. poor birdcop needs a break

he misses his boxing gym, and the closest thing you two get to that are pillow fights, although he’s careful not to use too much strength as he gently bats you with a cushion

you always end up winning since he’s too soft to hit you with very much effort

tries to pick up ‘home cooking 101′ and searches youtube for asmr cooking videos

watches them so intensely you’re a little bit intimidated by the sharpness of his gaze (it’s a cooking video on how to make lemonade, for god’s sake)

peaceful cuisine and nino’s home are his go to channels

more often than not his solo attempts in the kitchen end up in disaster and you wonder whether it would be safer to have a fire extinguisher in the house. gavin wholeheartedly agrees as he rushes to slam the lid over the frying pan of flaming oil

he’s more at ease carrying out critically dangerous missions than turning on the stove, and flinches whenever the spark igniter sets the gas alight - this is why he sticks with instant noodles and cup rice

you offer to teach him, however, and he’s hard pressed to turn you down when you look at him light that

he’s good at kneading dough! it’s one of his only talents in the kitchen, but he’s very good at it. it also gives you a chance to salivate over those forearms, i mean, that tasty, tasty dough!

can make a mean soy sauce egg fried rice, but that’s about the only thing he can make

takes this time to fix up his motorcycle and make some improvements on it, but is kind of sad because he can’t go for a spin. he misses being on his bike

the plus side of this quarantine though, is that he can reach for you any time he has the urge to embrace you or feel you, and that is many, many times in a day

at first he was a little shy and awkward about it, but when you told him that you appreciate him being forward about what he wants, he’s become a lot more comfortable with initiating contact

pulls you into his lap for random cuddles, brushes your hair back to give the shell of your ear a light kiss, squeezes your hands when you’ve spent a long time drafting up plans for shows to make once the quarantine is over

has some uh... pent up energy that he needs to release without the adrenaline rush of the missions he’s used to

translates well to gavin being more dominant and vocal in the bedroom, something you’re very appreciative of. you hope gavin knows that as much as your neighbors surely do by now

braids your hair just for fun when the two of you are lying in bed with nothing to do

wraps his arms around you tight

KIRO // screaming into the unknown at the skyscrapers in the distance

is going crazy with cabin fever

he wants to go to the park!! he wants to feel the sun on his face!! his favourite food festival is cancelled!! he was really looking forward to seeing it with you :(

pouts for days, but is magically alright if you kiss him

“maybe that’s your power, ms chips! give me another kiss to make sure!”

wakes you in the morning (unintentionally) with his vocal exercises. you blink open your eyes to see him standing at the balcony with his hands on his hips and singing chromatic scales or practice songs to the other apartment blocks

sometimes someone shouts back if he starts too early in the morning and he retreats inside sheepishly

they’re getting a free kiro concert

it’s like having your own personal rooster/alarm clock, but his voice is so angelic you can’t be blamed for falling back asleep

brought his cat, cello, back to your shared apartment to take care of since he can’t just leave cello in the studio with the quarantine going on

you spend lazy afternoons as cat parents, putting gacha outfits on the cat and filming stories for kiro to put up on tik tok and instagram

#celloathome trends on twitter

weekly check ins with savin to say ‘yes, kiro isn’t only eating junk food’, ‘yes, kiro is doing vocal practices every day’, ‘you’re sure you’re not snacking on everything in the apartment?’

he is eating snacks that you’ve stocked up on but reminds himself not to eat too much since he’s not exercising as much anymore

teaches you the choreography to his favourite songs!

you’re lagging far far behind him in terms of skill and coordination but he praises you and cheers you on anyway

on the slow ballad tracks on his albums, he’ll pull you close and just sway with you along to the beat, pressing his lips to your hair

this little ball of sunshine wants the sun!! he needs to recharge on that good ol’ vitamin d, so he hangs out at a sunny spot on the balcony - more often than not you’ll find him napping on there, legs propped up on the balustrade and arm shielding his eyes from the sun

plays a lot of online multiplayer games such as DOTA, World of Warcraft and LOL, roping you along to play on his team. it doesn’t matter how bad you are at them, he wants you with him. he enjoys playing as the damage dealer with stealth abilities, and does ridiculously low baritones or high pitched simpers to hide his identity online.

plays the guitar to serenade you, but the difference is that he’s on the balcony begging forgiveness because you locked him out for making a mess of the kitchen in his snack raid

scrolls through social media constantly to update his fans about how he’s doing at home, and is very up to date with the trends on twitter like dance challenges

participates in every single one of them and makes you film them for him, but he’s so funny your hands shake with every take and the two of you have to try over and over again

livestreams!! concerts from home!!

let’s you dye his hair when you’re bored. pink mohawk? he rocks it. black curls? he looks stunning. silver dye?

“ahh, no, no i don’t want to look like an old man,” kiro laughs as he pulls the tube of hair colouring away from you as you pout. you find it in the trash a few days later.

kiro gets frisky when he’s bored, hands wandering over your hips and up your shirt when you’re unaware. sometimes you smack them away, sometimes you don’t

the two of you sleep at the strangest times, ranging from ten at night when you’re bored with nothing to do or four in the morning when the two of you binge movie series

this can’t be healthy but kiro’s smile makes it all worth it as he munches on microwaved popcorn next to you. it tastes like salted styrofoam but kiro takes what he can get - beggars can’t be choosers

he can’t wait to get back to work and seeing his beloved fans once again, but part of him doesn’t want to give up the peaceful lull of this simple, domestic lifestyle in which the world revolves only around the two of you

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #lucien #lucien xu #mr love lucien #lucien fanfic #kiro #kiro zhou #mr love kiro #gavin bai #mr love gavin #gavin x reader #victor li #mr love victor

[obxdrewseph]

High Maintenance - Rafe Cameron

Description: Rafe Cameron is SICK of high maintenance girls. Sick of them. After he dumps his latest girlfriend for being too clingy, annoying, and picky with her food, he vows to never date a high maintenance girl ever again. Once he befriends an outspoken girl in his male-dominant Shakespeare class, his entire mindset changes. 

once again, please pretend covid does not exist in this scenario ;-; one day i will write about zoom classes or an online romance... but that day is not today

-----

“I just can’t do this anymore!”

“Why not? Rafe, c’mon now--”

“No, you want this, then you want that, you’re so fucking high maintenance. And, all my friends think so too.”

Rafe spat as he hurriedly got his keys from his now ex-girlfriend’s shelf. 

“Your friends are douchebags!” The girl yelled, throwing random clothes and items at the boy. He rolled his eyes at her words. Of course she would say something like that. All the girls did. They forgot how big of a douche Rafe Cameron is too. 

“Did you seriously tell me you need to be taken on dates at least 3 times a week? Gracie, we have classes 5 days a week and Saturday is for the boys!” 

Rafe Cameron HATED high maintenance girls. 

Despised them. 

Hated when they were too clingy and needed too much attention, hated when they picked at their food like it was poisoned, or when they went on a diet and he couldn’t go to his favorite pizza restaurant. 

He hated all of that shit. 

He didn’t understand why girls were so high maintenance when guys were so lowkey. None of his guy friends cared where they went out to eat, none of them ate salads when they went to a burger joint-- they all were easy to hang out with. 

That was not the case with all the girls Rafe had dated. 

“Fine, but don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling back to me!!” She screamed, tears flooding down her face. He wanted to feel bad, but he couldn’t. She fake cried every other day to make Rafe turn off his video games and hang out with her. 

And all she wanted to do was talk! 

The boy knew if he said anything to that statement, it would end poorly so he just ran out the door and drove away.

From that day on, he vowed never to date a girl that was high maintenance ever again. 

-----

Rafe Cameron hated the first day of classes and this year, he hated them even more when he was forced to take a stupid English class for some Gen Ed (general education) requirement.

At least he got to take a class on analyzing Shakespeare. It was either that or Feminist Theory and no thank you. 

Unfortunately, he had a previous class pretty far away from the English building so when he arrived at said Shakespeare class, there were only a few seats in the front still open. Next to one of the only girls in the class. 

He quickly took the seat before any more people came in. 

The class was chatting loudly since most of them were dudes. And dudes had an easier time to other dudes. Rafe took a quick peak at the girl sitting next to him and noticed she was mindlessly scrolling on her phone. 

She looked a bit tense when he sat next to her and came to the conclusion that she was the type of girl who didn’t have many guy friends and didn’t know how to socialize with them. 

“Hi, I’m Rafe.” He introduced himself to put the poor girl out of her misery. Her eyes brightened when she heard a voice directed to her. 

Rafe noticed the way her blank face shifted into a big smile. Woah.

“Hi, I’m y/n, nice to meet you!” Her voice was bright and cheery. He did a quick analysis of the girl.

She was wearing light blue skinny jeans, ripped so she put some thought into her appearance. But, she was wearing a huge sweater over it. Something girls did to look cute, yet casual. But, the girl was wearing dangly earrings. He came to the conclusion he couldn’t decide who the girl was yet before talking to her.

“So, what made you take a class about Shakespeare?” He asked nonchalantly. 

The girl did nothing to hide her clear disdain of the man. It was written all over the face. 

Rafe did his best to hide his chuckle. Y/N was a nice refreshment to all the girls he had dated, and had known, who hid all of their emotions to only throw them back in his face when he did something wrong. He knew this girl wouldn’t do that to him.

“Ugh, don’t even remind me what class we’re in. I only took this class because all of the other English classes were full. Darn being a freshman. What about you? Are you into THE William Shakespeare?” She babbled which somehow Rafe found endearing. 

He shrugged. “I do dabble.” 

Once the girl realized that’s all he was going to say, she laughed. “Well Rafe, I see you’re a man of very few words.” She deadpanned. “Also, I think we are going to do a little more than ‘dabbling’ in this class, as you say, since this is a 400 level class.” 

Her honesty was quite refreshing to the boy who had been told lies to his whole life. He could tell she didn’t even know his dad paid lots of money for him to go to this school. He knew that was rich white privilege but it’s not like he could do anything about it. 

He then realized he hadn’t said anything to the girl for a few moments. 

“You know, you’re very refreshing to talk to.” 

“Yeah, I know. I get told that a lot.” 

This time, he laughed out loud. 

He totally got her character wrong. 

------

The Shakespeare class only met Mondays, Wednesdays, and then had quiz sections on Friday. 

When it hit 9:50am on Wednesday, which was the end of his business class, he rushed to English. He anticipated seeing this girl again and he didn’t know why.

He waltzed into class and saw the girl sitting in the front row once again. Since he rushed there, there were plenty more seats open. But he didn’t want to sit next to anybody else. He wanted to sit next to her. 

He plopped down next to her and took in her appearance. She was wearing makeup today, or maybe she wore some on Monday, honestly he had no clue. Her pink eyeshadow matched... her entire pink outfit. She was bold bold for wearing that to this class. All the guys were staring at her like she had just landed here from Mars or something. 

He was now confused at whether she was a lowkey girl like the girl he saw on Monday or if she was this girly girl. 

“Hey Rafe!” She cheerily said as he sat down. 

He smiled. “Hey. How’s your day going?” 

“Hmm, let’s see. I woke up feeling a bit weird because I had a funky dream. You know, have you ever had those dreams where you just look at the world a bit differently? Anywho, in the dream I was forced to torture this girl so that she would give up information, but then she wouldn’t ‘cause she’s kickass so I was ordered to chop of her head instead! BUT, I couldn’t do it and that’s the funny thing, you popped up and chopped off her head for me! Isn’t that funny? Since we just met?? I think it’s a sign that we are going to be great friends.” 

He felt his head spinning as the girl rambled about her dream and his place in them, but he somehow understood it all? Maybe this was a sign they were going to be great friends. 

“Are you saying I’m your hero?” He couldn’t help with flirt with her. She rolled her eyes and laughed, but he could still see her blush. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t used to guys flirting with her. 

“Wow, is that what you took away from my dream? Rude. Also! If we are going to be friends, I need to know your last name.”

“Cameron.” 

Her nose scrunched up. 

“Hey, what’s wrong with the last name Cameron?” He teased, nudging her arm a bit. Was this flirting or was he just being playful? He didn’t know either. 

“There’s nothing wrong with the last name Cameron, it’s just you have two first names... technically. But, I’m not judging! What’s funny is I could see you going by the name Cameron as well which is interesting. Rafe seems more like a tough guy name but you seem so... I don’t know. Calm? Chill?” 

He laughed. That was the first time someone has called him that. “What’s your last name?” 

“y/l/n. See? We’re friends now.” 

------

The girl was right. 

Over the past few weeks of class, Rafe and y/n had become friends. 

It wasn’t hard to befriend someone like y/n though-- she didn’t stop talking and seemed to always seem interested in what Rafe had to say. And he ate that shit up. She always knew the right words to say and was charismatic in her own right. The two even met outside of classes occasionally to study together. 

He had decided she was a pretty chill and lowkey kind of girl. Just the type he needed in his life. Yes, she talked a lot, but she carried what he lacked in conversation. It worked for them. She didn’t care how she spoke around him and let loose with her emotions and body gags-- she was so different from the girls he had been with before. It was nice. 

He had developed a crush on the girl, but he wasn’t sure how she felt and didn’t want them to get a weird relationship in class. 

It was a gloomy Sunday night and Rafe had another date with some random girl in his business class. He wasn’t that interested in her yet, but appreciated her confidence to make the first move. Girls rarely did that. 

Sadly, the date had just started and it was already going poorly.

They met at an Italian restaurant near the school, both taking separate cars so that they would have a way to dash if the date went bad. 

And the girl had ordered a salad and a cup, only a cup, of wedding soup while Rafe had to eat his ginormous plate of pasta. 

He hated when girls went to restaurants and ordered the tiniest thing. What was the point? What was her reasoning? Was it bad to ask? 

She also talked on and on about how she was going to take over her dad’s company and how her whole life revolved around business. All he heard was that she never had to lift one finger while everyone did everything for her. 

She was already too high maintenance for the boy. 

------

The next day, he went to class fired up from the date. He plopped next to y/n and turned to her immediately. She stopped typing and looked at him with curious eyes. 

“Uh oh, tough morning?”

He sighed. The date took way too long and he was trying to be a better person and sit through the entire date. Usually, he would just get up leave if the girl was boring, but this was sophomore year Rafe, not freshman Rafe. But, he barely got sleep as the girl talked away while he had an early class. 

He took one glance at the girl and was curious if she would care for his ranting. She was wearing sweats and a tank top today. It was too far into the quarter to care at this point. He appreciated it. 

He was going to just rant anyways.

“Just, I don’t get why girls feel the need to eat so little on dates. Like, we aren’t going to up and walk away if you down as much food as us. In fact, it’s pretty hot when a girl can! Especially at Italian places, they never order pasta or pizza-- only salads? I didn’t even know they sold salads at those places until I went on my first date.” 

His voice was louder than usual and this conversation carried to the boys around them. 

“Bro, I totally get that. I went through sooo many girls who nibbled on their food or just never ate around me in general. But my girlfriend now? I knew she was the one when I took her to a carnival and I swear she ate every food there.” 

Rafe nodded in agreement. “Right? Like it’s attractive!” 

More guys gave snippets of their dating lives and agreed that girls should just eat more because it is A) better for them B) it makes them hotter! 

“You guys are kind of being assholes right now.” 

The female voice that cut through washed them into a silence. 

Rafe had forgotten he was sitting next to the girl he was supposed to be ranting to. He had found comfort in these guys who were experiencing the same thing. He had ranted about this to Topper but he dated his little sister, and he knew she ate anything in her way. 

“Assholes? How are we being assholes?” A classmate who had just gotten finished ranting. 

“You’re being assholes because you’re judging a girl’s worth on how much she eats... like what the fuck? How does that even matter? Why does it matter what other people are eating? How does that affect you?” 

Rafe heard the bite in her words and he was shocked. She had always been so cheery and happy-go-lucky, but her tone was all anger and... sadness. 

“Plus, I’ll bet you 100 dollars that all of the girls who you say eat a lot are skinny as hell and before you say anything, there is nothing wrong with that. But, guys only find skinny girls attractive when they eat a lot. If, God forbid, they gain weight, or are fat, AND they shovel down food? They’re called gross.” 

The professor cut off her words before she could get more in, but her meaning still got through. All of the guys were sitting there like puppies who just got their toy taken away.

Rafe peaked at the girl during class and saw her eyes full of tears. 

He felt guilty as hell... but more confused than anything. 

He kept getting more and more curious about the girl sitting next to him. 

-----

The girl zoomed out of class as soon as it was over; she didn’t even wait for Rafe like she usually did. 

That hurt. 

Rafe laid in bed after he got back from all his classes and analyzed her words and her facial expressions. Damn he felt guilty. He thought back to all the girls he ridiculed for not eating and wondered what they were going through. 

He had a little sister of his own who downed any food she got-- but she always stayed skinny. Is this the privilege y/n was talking about? He never saw any big girls shoveling food in like his sister did... 

He rolled around in bed, frustrated at not talking to y/n more. 

-----

That Wednesday came and no one talked about her little outburst on Monday but they all were aware of y/n’s temper now. Somehow, Rafe became friends with the guys sitting behind them, learning their names were JJ, Pope, and Kelce. 

“Today class, I’m introducing a new project. It’ll be a group project and you can be in groups of 5 tops.” 

The class started muttering and choosing groups while the professor spoke. 

The boys behind Rafe hit him on the back. 

They pointed to the girl who wasn’t paying much attention to the boy energy in the room. “Y/n.” Rafe nudged. The girl looked up and Rafe almost forgot what he was going to say. “Group?” He finally spoke. He glanced back to the guys and then back at her. She turned around and nodded.

After class, Pope called them all together. 

“So, I wanna get started on this project as soon as possible. I got a ton of other work I have to do in my STEM classes and want to get the English out of the way. Are you guys cool with meeting Friday at 2 at the library next to the fountain?” 

A chorus of “sure” went around. 

-----

Rafe only had one class, the English quiz section, on Fridays, so he was early to the library. It was the library everyone chatted in, so it was bustling with students who had gotten a headstart on their weekend’s homework, or were chilling before their next class. 

He had ordered at the school’s Starbucks before sitting down and made sure to get enough for the whole group. Being rich has its perks. 

“Rafe!” A familiar voice called out. 

He looked up from his laptop and saw y/n walking towards him. He immediately smiled and patted the seat next to him. She smelled like flowers like usual, specifically Japanese Cherry Blossom which she informed him before. 

“Hey, you hungry? I bought these muffins for everyone.” The boy shoved a coffee cake towards her. He pegged her as a girl who liked sweets since her personality was so hyperactive and chatty. 

She shook her head. “No thanks, I ate before I came here.” 

“Hey guys!” JJ and Pope walked in together while Kelce came trailing behind soon after. 

“Oooh muffins!” JJ greedily downed the coffee cake Rafe had bought for y/n. It was his favorite too. “Damn, Cameron really comes through with the moneyyy.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes, but he was used to the comments about the amount of money he had. 

“Oh y/n, you want one?” Kelce offered her a blueberry muffin that no one touched. 

“Nah, I ate before I got here.” 

“C’mon, you have to try this pumpkin flavored one, it’s SO good.” Pope said, plucking off half the muffin for her to try. 

“No, really I’m not hungry.” 

They all paused. 

“Wait, y/n, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who orders salads when they go out on dates.” JJ teased. 

Y/N’s eyes turned dark when the boys started laughing. Rafe sat there, unsure of what to do or say. He had been the one who started this whole debate between them, but when he saw how upset y/n got, he didn’t want to fight her. 

“Dammit she is! I never would’ve expected that from you. You seem so chill.” 

She scoffed. “So chill girls can’t turn down food from guys? What the hell does that mean?” 

“Well, usually chill girls don’t because they don’t care how they look to guys. But those high maintenance girly girls turn down food so they look better to guys. Pfft.” JJ said in his eccentric tone. 

That made the girl laugh. You know when a girl laughs during an argument, shit is about to get real. 

“Are you fucking serious? How is a girl high maintenance when she doesn’t ask for food all the time? Or when she doesn’t eat? How is she asking for more when she’s taking less?” 

“It’s so conceited for all of you to think that a girl is acting in a way to please you. Really, you don’t know her relationship with food. You don’t know what anyone’s relationship with food is so you shouldn’t comment on it.” 

Her face was red, something Rafe noticed happened when she got heated about something. 

“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, can we just do this project so I don’t have to talk to you misogynistic douches anymore? Thanks.” 

-------

They finished most of the project in five awkward hours. 

Y/N was clearly still upset by the earlier conversation about food and Rafe wasn’t sure why she was getting so worked up over it. Yes, he knew the guys were pushing it. But, the issue seemed personal to her. 

“K, we are gonna head out now. See ya’ll in class.” JJ said while the three of them skedaddled in fear y/n would yell at them again.

It was now just Rafe and y/n. 

They cleaned up their stuff in a silence. They said nothing until they got outside since the library was quiet now. No one was in the library on Fridays. 

It was pretty late about now, nearing dinner time. 

“Wanna get some dinner?” Rafe suggested, maybe a peace offering to the girl who was still upset over something he never thought too hard about. 

Usually buying food for girls works. Like chocolate. He didn’t know how much ice cream he would buy for his girlfriends when they were mad at him. 

The girl stared at Rafe for a bit and sighed. 

“I don’t eat at restaurants.” 

“Why not?” Rafe was a bit surprised at her confession.. and confused. Not eating at restaurants? Why? 

“Because I’m on a strict diet, ok? God, I know what you’re going to say, that I’m high maintenance and all which I probably am but whatever.” The girl was on the brink of tears and Rafe was confused. All he did was offer her dinner. 

He ran after her when she started walking away. 

“Hey, I’ve been an asshole lately and I’m sorry. But I’m just confused. Obviously this subject means more to you than I thought.” He confessed. 

He pulled her down on a bench on campus. He was grateful there was barely anyone in sight since it was late. Everyone was either home or partying. 

She took a deep breath. Rafe could tell this was a hard topic for her. 

“So, long story short: I have IBS which stands for irritable bowel syndrome. It’s different for everyone but basically it means you can’t digest things well. And for me, I have pain every time I eat anything and for a long time I didn’t know what was going on. And now, I’m on this strict low FODMAP diet which is really weird and no one understands it. And I hate telling people what I can and can’t eat when they literally can just look it up themselves.” 

Tears start falling down her face as she speaks. 

“And it sucks because I used to be the type of girl who could shovel tons of food into her and feel ok but now my body isn’t what it used to be. I’m hungry, sad, and in pain all the time and...” 

Rafe enveloped her in a hug. She clung tighter onto him as she melted into his arms. He was so warm in this cold weather. 

He rubbed her back gently. “I’m sorry.” She nodded into his arm at his apology. 

“I get it. The worst part is I understand you guys. I’m annoying and high maintenance. I have to cook everything I eat which sucks because I’m a terrible chef. And what affects me the worst is bread which is why I had to turn down everything you offered. When guys ask me out to restaurants or on dates in general, I have to turn them down because I know they’ll judge me for being gluten free and dairy free and basically so limiting in choices. Plus, most restaurants don’t have all that, unless they’re Asian. I basically only eat at Asian restaurants and I guess I shouldn’t assume that you didn’t want to eat at an Asian restaurant but...” 

She was babbling at this point. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking of taking you to an Asian restaurant but we can go next time.” She laughed. 

She had more of a hold on his heart than he thought. Suddenly he wanted to hurt all those guys who had hurt her in the past. Hurt her so badly that she didn’t even want to go on dates anymore. And he was pissed at himself for being one of those guys. Those shitheads. 

“Or I’ll cook the Asian food. I can learn.” He said in a teasing manner, but he was dead serious. He was about to look up everything about Asian food very soon. And he knew he was about to look up what the “low fodmap diet“ was because he had no fucking clue. 

She chuckled. “It’s fine, I’ve learned how to cook meals for myself now. And you’re right about me being high maintenance though which is what sucks. I’m the youngest child so everyone does everything for me anyways. I’ve been told that people want to protect me.”

She was right. All Rafe wanted to do was protect her.

It was in that moment that he realized he didn’t care if the girl was “high maintenance”. It she was the right girl, he would do anything for her. All he wanted to do for y/n at this moment was to treat her right, take her mind off her pain, and cook her the right meals so she wouldn’t be anxious. 

He then took her hand and tightly held it. 

“Thank you for confiding in me and making me see my douchey ways.” She laughed. He felt his heart lighten when her tear stained face smiled. He wanted to keep her like that forever. 

He gently took her chin and looked her in the eyes. “You deserve better than some guy who half asses your dates and doesn’t treat you right. You deserve a guy who does everything you need and more. You deserve to be treated like a princess.” 

“Even if I’m high maintenance?” She whispered. 

He kissed her on the forehead. 

“We’re all high maintenance, sweetheart.” 

------

A/N: if you’re reading this, thank you for reading this far!! :D

Also, please watch what you say about other people’s eating habits. It can damage them and like our y/n did say: you don’t know what their relationship with food is. Don’t comment on how much food is on their plate, don’t comment on how little food is on their plate-- just don’t comment on their food in general. Please be accommodating to other’s dietary restrictions and be kind to people-- you don’t know what they’re dealing with. 

What we eat and how much we eat DO NOT define us :)  

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx scenarios #obx rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #obx writing #yes i wrote this fic for myself pls dont call me out for being so specific aHAAHA #also: that dream i wrote abt in there was very real #i had to torture this girl but i couldnt then drew came and cut her head off for me #what a homie

[ziggyzagreus]

Active Listening

[Pairing: Charon/Hermes - Fandom: Hades (Video Game)]

[Rating: No Rating Applied]

[Important Tags: Fluff, Getting Together (Kinda), Hermes is Nervous and I love him for that]

[Fic Type: SFW Drabble]

[AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365528 ]

[Summary: Hermes contemplates the growth of companionship between himself and his Professional Business Associate.]

[Note: This was inspired by replies to a post by @deathonholiday where people were just basically sharing their Charon/Hermes headcanons soooo here we go, lol.]

~~~

Hermes did not know at which point he started being able to understand Charon. Or rather, when something had shifted significantly enough for his own mind to slow down adequately for the boatman to worm his way inside, for that somehow soothing voice contrary to the audible sound it had to sound in the Olympian god’s mind and respond to his own ramblings. It certainly had taken a long time, for the messenger additionally could not recall hearing the low drawls of Charon’s scraping voice for the first while of their association.

A shift in character, perhaps it had taken, or something much more interpersonal, between the two of them rather than Hermes’ attention alone.

At the start of it all, quick trips down to the Underworld often left Hermes more wound up than usual, a strange unease always settling over him when things got darker and more claustrophobic. Sometimes the upper regions were quite alright, nice even, but despite the expanse of Elysium and all its chill air, there was a sense of unwelcome that made Hermes’ pulse antsy. A pressure, like the feeling of watchful eyes on his back – even if it were just innocent shades, Hermes felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up practically the entire trip down. So, he’d search for the boatman, quite literally dashing in to dump his wares and the soul identifications on the polished albeit ancient boat, prattle off on their uses and what messages to be delivered, and be on his way.

Charon would always watch him as well, burning violet gaze just visible under the brim of his wide boater hat, and Hermes would use an old salesmanship trick – staring right at the bridge of the nose, well, should the individual possess one, which Charon did not – to finish his delivery in record time. Charon would nod, weight leaning heavily on the oar, and that same searing gaze would bore into the back of the Olympian as he darted off to leave this wretched place behind.

Those hollow eyes, teeming with a deep energy, were always on him, and initially they had carried that same feeling of watchful unease that Hermes shivered off once finding his way back home.

Then, it came that Charon would begin meeting Hermes closer and closer to the surface; how the boatman came to expect his arrival was unbeknownst to the messenger god, but he appreciated the gesture all the same. It was as if Charon could tell how jumpy Hermes got, the way he couldn’t even hover still and the slight tremor to his rapid speech. The boatman awaited his arrival closer to the surface, and in his company, Hermes found himself speaking more, the tiniest bit more slowly, and biding their time. The more at ease he became, the easier it was to fall to his dispositional pattern of chatter.

Hermes filled most silences. In Olympus he was well known for it, rather rudely to be perfectly square, and especially now when the only companion in this dreary place seemed to have no words of his own. Figuring he was mute, with little to no intention to speak, Hermes had no issue prattling on about anything and everything.

Eventually, Hermes felt sorry, too, for being so fleeting in the past; and now, he allowed the realization of a sort of warm safety from being in the presence of the Chthonic minor god, aware that nothing dare cross the planks of his Narrowboat lest they be lost shades with little will stored in their spirits. Nothing could truly come to harm Hermes down here, and so, relaxation came to follow with the pleasure of Charon’s company.

Of course, though, as time went on, he wondered if the boatman even understood a word he spoke while they were together.

He received nods, and Charon followed directions, but that seemed to be the extent of it all. He never uttered even a sound in return, and while Hermes was often the one to interrupt things, a strange thought occurred that he himself wished to be interrupted, if only for once. Prompting place for it, asking questions, and waiting a beat for a response all seemed futile. Plus, Hermes himself often answered the question allowed, or rushed off to speak before he could stop himself.

And so, it came to pass in such a shock when one day, Charon spoke.

Hermes adjusted the strap of his bag, keeping what wares inside from tumbling out, and skidded to a halt at the ledge in Elysium where Charon often arrived to pick him up and spare him from a solitary trek down through Asphodel or Tartarus.

To the god’s surprise, the boat was already there at a standstill, its proprietor waiting to the side calmly, dark aura instead the most welcoming feature of the Underworld as far as Hermes was concerned. One of Charon’s arms crossed his chest, slender hand hidden within the folds of billowing robes, and that same penetrating violet gaze fixated as if he knew precisely where the god would appear.

Hermes opened his mouth to speak, a grin tugging at his lips, already sucking in a breath for the tumultuous expulsion of words sure to come: stories of where he’d been and the functions of the goods he had to deliver to his dear associate. But the words fell flat when Charon instead drew his hand out into view, a palm-sized bottle of golden nectar held delicately in his grasp.

“Charon, chap, is this…? Erm, well, of course I know what it is, but are you gifting this to me?”

And for the first time, Charon spoke. He had a voice like no other; and while to many that would be derogatory, speaking volumes of negativity towards the scratching, garbled whispers like a foul blizzard wind or the gargling of shards of something broken – to Hermes, it sounded simply, cozy and clear in his mind. It sounded as much the comfort and safety he felt in the boatman’s presence, and that was… Striking.

“Indeed, something simple, but a gift for you, nonetheless. Should you desire to take it.”

Hermes’ mind felt fuzzy, something blooming from his chest, warm and light like the comings-on of the wines from Dionysus’ feasts, but this was delightful. A new, exciting thrill shot through the messenger and caused his feathered heels to lift an additional foot or so off the ground where he hovered. He stared, at a loss for words, at the nectar in Charon’s hand.

“How can I hear you so clearly?” He instead asked, words dumping out slowly, at least for the pace of the quick-tongued god.

“You at long last cared to listen. Perhaps you are comfortable… in my presence. Take it, I insist, good Hermes.”

Without further hesitation, Hermes reached for the nectar and held the delicate glass close, admiring the subtle craftsmanship forged likely from fires here in hell itself. “I… thank you. I – oh, I didn’t exactly bring anything special for you, nothing aside from the usual wares and the few soul identifications but – oh, next time, next time I will, alright Charon? We are business partners for sure, there’s no doubt about that now, alright? Considering you’ve put up with me for this long, and you’ve followed everything I’ve said! Why, you’ve understood it all, haven’t you? I am terribly sorry for doubting so, I suppose I should have – I should have listened closer last time…”

“You are forgiven, for neither of us were ready. Now, shall we depart?” Charon gestured to the boat that awaited them.

A jolt of glee shot through Hermes, and for the first time since his work began, an excitement to venture into the Underworld met him. It was startling, surely, for when the fear had dissipated as companionship with Charon grew, for once… Well, this would be rather enjoyable.

“Certainly! Let’s get right to it, friend! And do I have stories to tell you, now there was this incident that I faced up on the surface when acquiring the name of that fellow right there…”

#hades game #hades fanfic #hades drabbles #this was supposed to be 300 words #back on my bullshit #whoop whoop #i'm honestly just chilling #its fanfic time #ziggyzagreus #hades #house of hades #hades charon #charon the boatman #charon #hades hermes #hermes #charon x hermes #hermes x charon #hermes/charon #charon/hermes #charon fanfic #hermes fanfic #hermes x charon fanfic #ao3 #hades fandom #hades supergiant #the river styx #stygian boatman #hermes is a good boi ok #the goodest boy

[mallickshah]

A safe place (I)

February 11th @ Yureif’s Tavern ;  Evening ( of DOOMDAY )

A safe place had never been part of the things he’d grown up to need. 

When Saiyah had come into his life, she’d brought along something that had long been foreign to him. The touch of something that kept everything else at bay, she’d also brought her own safe place. She’d needed it more than he’d had, she’d grown with the need for a protective shield rather than the will to fight, because she was a serf, human, unwanted by many, shun by all in this faction. A species that could not find a way to survive on these soils.

The first time she’d told him about having somewhere she could hide and let herself feel safe, where she’d felt like no harm could come to her, he’d found it strangely uncanny. Mallick had the strength, mind and physical, to hold his own in fights, to hold his own in life in general, he’d never needed a hideout for the things he couldn’t confront. Because Mallick had been raised to confront it all, it was unfathomable for him to be a Shah and a Club and not have the will to fight his fight and hide somewhere when they became too much. There was simply not such a thing as too much. 

Their beginnings had been rocky, between his unrelenting need to show her that she could be strong, the need to protect her and her soft resignation that she just would never amount to what he’d grown used to. Their minds had collided more than once. But, somehow, in the midst of it all and the gruntings he’d left her with at times, Saiyah and Mallick had managed to create a bubbling world that had, with time and the years, come to make him realize what she’d meant by a shelter where nothing mattered and you felt as if nothing could harm you. 

Saiyah had given him a safe place. 

Mallick had never realized though, not until he’d lost her, and even then--he hadn’t truly understood why his world had been shaken to the point where his trust in everything he’d ever believed in had been shaken to its core. He hadn’t understood it after a year, or two of being in the resistance and he hadn’t all these years. 

Rather, he was understanding it now. 

The news came while he was at Yureif’s tavern, the only pint of the night he’d be drinking still in his hand. Somewhere in that situation, Mallick would find humor with his brother later on, because the news of Saiyah’s death had also found him in the same position. Hand wrapped around a cold beer and playful banter passing between comrades of any and all kinds. Yureif’s tavern welcomed any and all for a good time, no brawls, no violence and the means to evacuate anyone who would dare to disturb the peace. This was the only tavern of their family with such strict rules, implemented because Yureif did not want to have to explain to his wife, or his children, why he was running a place that could turn out to be dangerous.

Also, largely in part because Yureif was against violence. He despised it, had always despised it. He was more of the type to find danger in nature, rather than in people. When they’d been little, Mallick had always loved watching them, Yureif and Pribas, the only twins among his brothers, like ice and fire. Because where Yureif was a thrill seeker in anything that was not breathing, unless it was an animal, Pribas had always been quite fond of taking more than his fair share of hits and bruising as much as he got bruised. 

Needless to say, their arguments always reflected worry for one another. Yureif with his dangerous animals, Pribas with his dangerous fights. So when the men came in, loud and ready to deliver the news, Yureif was the first to step from behind the bar, cloth thrown over his shoulder to remind them of the rules of his tavern. It didn’t matter your ranks, he’d make sure that it was followed, so would the customers of the tavern. A lovely regular bunch who liked to keep it peaceful and would act as volunteering guns if necessary. 

“We’re only delivering the news.” One of the men raised his hands and Yureif nodded towards him who spoke. 

“Then deliver and get gone.” 

The mistrust was evident, their weapons were not hidden, their stances too aggressive to be taken as a pacific walk in. They gauged their audience and Mallick leaned back against the back legs of his chair to do the same, a look over how many of them they were, where they might have come from. They looked like the guards of the armory, as far as he could tell. He recognized one face among them and if they noticed him, it didn’t seem to show, their eyes not staying put on the arch of the eyebrow Mallick was sending their way. 

“These are orders from our Ace, they need to be followed to the letter and anyone who even thinks of not abiding by its code will face the consequences.” That was when the man let the leaflets reach Yureif’s hands, although it was more so slapped on his chest and he held it there for a bit, refusing to take a look until the men made right by their promise to not cause any commotion.

The man, who seemed to be in charge given that he’d been doing all the talking, tilted his head and marched his guards right back out of the tavern. They had nothing against the guards of the armory per se, but ever since Mallick had made it obvious to Yureif that he had his reticences with their Ace, his brother had somehow grown a sensitive bone towards anything that involved the man himself. Did Mallick want his brother involved in this? Of course not. But it was not a surprise that Yureif would take a strong stance, whether it was his fight or not. It was in the blood, was it not? It was what made Mallick the designated leader of the family, this power they all had flowing through their veins to protect everything, especially the people in their family.

The pride in his chest would never cease to amaze him, the swell of it had him rising from his seat. But Mallick had a frown almost instantly as he saw Yureif’s own at reading the message scribbled on the paper.

“What is it this time?”

Mallick’s hopes? That the good conversation they’d been having about the barbarians getting some action last night would be somewhat continued once the message was read. So to see Yureif frowning and cursing under his breath was not a good sign at all. 

“Fuck, why is it that your instincts always have to suck so much at being wrong?” 

Mallick shook his head, more than confused. However, once he took in the message on the leaflet, it all started to make a whole lot of sense. 

Every information leading to the death or arrest of HIM, the barbarians or a member of the resistance will be rewarded with an extra food ration.

The message left him feeling with a tangible bitter taste in his mouth, but it wasn’t that terrible. It did get wrinkled and tossed right out where the guards had brought it from, but just as soon as it was tossed, Pribas was running in, making the revolving door shake in his haste to come in. He was panting, had to take his breath but once it was done and the feathers were done falling from his quick shifting before he got through the doors.

The message Pribas carried made the taste stronger, more palpable, Mallick could almost taste ashes and blood. The heaviness of it was unrelenting and he wanted to do anything, anything but be here right now, listening to Pribas ramble on about what was going on out there in the quietness that Mallick had thought would be a constant for a little while. It would have come with such relief, wouldn’t it, after all that HIM and his barbarians had caused. After all that ruckus and hurt, and Mallick’s words to the resistance’s members who had wondered if they should act.

What had Mallick told them again? 

It might not be our place this time, we should wait to see what the Ace does.

Because as much as it’d pained him to sit still and watch, he’d somewhat thought him capable of handling this without the need for any externally drastic measures. But now, not only was he not putting out something like a hit on every resistance’s members, he was also seemingly going the same route that HIM had. 

Doing what he thought would be right to do, by force. 

Mallick had been wrong to think that an Ace would be able to handle this for the good of his people, without causing more hurt, he had been wrong and he needed the resistance now more than ever. He needed something, something he’d thought long gone when he’d lost Saiyah. 

He needed that constant had he known, had never once made him regret to have chosen them. Mallick needed his safe space, to be able to give the same to everyone else in Clubs who had never asked for anything else but that. Peace and safety. This was obviously not speaking to those who preferred the chaos of it all, it spoke of those who had not chosen that path or been given the ability to have it. Those who like Saiyah, had been forced to seek shelter somewhere other than where they’d been born and even that was being threatened by the one person who should have been doing the right thing by his people.

Which, if that was the case, then two did not need to play at this game. Both pieces of this chess needed to be tackled and taken out of the field, consecutively or at the same time. 

It was time for a plan that was for the people, not for power.

#the wounded widow (solo) #an articulate drabble #dividing it in two parts bc it grew #the second one is basically how they got the resistance together--origamis msgs or smth idk pigeons ???? #whatever it is they're meeting that night too #angryteddyarc

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Everything Burns - Chapter 12

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: gun violence, knife violence. 

Word count: 2262

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Chapter 12: Memorial Fun

The memorial service of the commissioner was the next day and per Joker’s instructions, Scarlett was attending as a civilian. 

She was meeting The Joker and the others there. She knew he would be hiding as an honour guard, having used the dead Melvin's abandoned apartment as a place to hide the men, whose clothes and guns they had stolen. 

She had left late last night to go home and be ready for the morning, after a quick roll around the bedroom with The Joker of course. She wore a black simple black suit, a white blouse and a hat so as to cover her face. She didn't want to be recognised today, explaining her eyes would be difficult enough, besides the fact that according to work and many others she was supposed to be in England at that moment.

She placed herself in as close to the front as possible hiding herself amongst the crowds of Gotham civilians, she knew she would have to wait for The Joker to find her, she was his getaway driver as he didn't want to go with the goons and her bike was the quickest getaway vehicle for the situation.

She searched for him in the group of honour guards but she was too far away so unable to see detail clearly. Plus she had never seen him without his make-up and she was sure he wouldn't be wearing any. She peered up at the window that she knew to be Melvin Whites, she knew at some point soon the police or the Bat would be searching it in connection with the deaths. Armed police stood on every fire escape of the buildings surrounding the memorial service.

Her ears perked as she heard the news team filming not far away.

"With no word from Batman, even as they mourn Commissioner Loeb these cops have to be wondering if the Joker will make good on his threat in the obituary column of The Gotham Times to kill the mayor". She almost laughed did they not know by now, The Joker was a man of his word. 

She pulled her hat a little lower as Harvey passed by with the Mayor and a few other of Gotham's elite. She looked up once he had passed, and the parade of bagpipes and police officers passed by, it was all very grand, but inside of Scarlett, a storm was brewing. Her stomach knew something was about to happen and was causing her to feel slightly sick as she shivered with anxiety.

The Honour guards were standing stock still and she tried to see if she could spot him to see if he was as nervous as she was but none of the guards were moving, he was playing his part well. But then they all were. She knew that all the honour guards were upstairs in that apartment, the ones standing in front of the stage were The Joker and his goons.

She held two bike helmets in her hands and they kept clinking together as she shifted uncomfortably in her spot. Finally, the parade stopped and silence came over the crowd, people clapped as the mayor came to the stage and began to ramble on. She peered around the crowd making sure to have a sure way to her bike through the crowd once they all started to panic.

"Commissioner Loeb dedicated his life to law enforcement and to the protection of his community." the mayor drawled on and Scarlett rolled her eyes. Her anticipation was getting intense and she wondered how long The Joker would wait.

"I remember when I first took office and I asked if he wanted to stay on as commissioner and he said he would, provided I kept my politics out of his office." The mayor said and there was a slight rumble of a laugh that echoed through the crowd.

"Clearly he was not a man who minced words, nor should he have been. A number of policies that he enacted as commissioner were unpopular. Policies that flooded my office with angry calls and letters but he did not succumb and these policies helped make Gotham a better place. He may not have been a popular man but that was his sacrifice to our city. And as we recognise the sacrifice of this man we must remember that vigilance is the price of safety." The mayor said and Scarlett's stomach did a flip, she knew there wasn't long now, she pulled off her hat and readied herself ignoring the strange look the woman next to her gave her when Scarlett dropped her hat to the ground and left it there.

"Stand by. Honour guard!" called the leader of the honour guards and that she knew to be a goon of the Joker, Scarlett's could now feel her heartbeat in her head.

"Attention. Port arms." the leader called and the honour guards raised their guns to an upright position.

"Ready!"

"Aim!"

"Fire!"

The honour guards fired just as they were meant to and Scarlett felt a sudden anti-climax, she wondered if maybe he had got caught up and the men there were in fact real honour guards. She stared around for some kind of answer but the honour guard were raising their guns again.

"Ready!"

"Aim!"

A shot was heard but it definitely wasn't the honour guards and she looked up. The blind to Melvin's apartment was now open, he had timed it. Of course, he had to so the armed police would be distracted when he took his shot. How could she have ever doubted him?

She turned her head quickly back towards the front where the guards were about to take their second shot, but one near the middle turned and aimed his gun at the mayor before a shot was heard and everyone started to scream.

Gordon had jumped in front, the mayor was okay but there was no time to dwell as the crowd around Scarlett began to panic. She tried not to get pushed away from where she needed to be. Desperately she tried to spot him through the swelling crowds that were jostling her around. She saw one of the honour guards get shot in the leg and fall down and she began to panic. She needed to get him out now. Suddenly she spotted him, he was slightly hunched over as he made his way through the crowd, she hardly recognised him without the make-up.

"J!" she shouted he spotted her making a beeline, she handed him a helmet before she pulled on her own and lead him quickly to the bike, he pulled off his honour guard cap his lank green locks falling to his shoulders as he pulled on the helmet, she jumped onto the bike and started the engine once she felt the weight of him on the bike she took off.

"Good job Jester," he said as his arms slipped around her waist and she laughed slightly.

"Thanks, Jack" she replied and she heard him laugh.

"So you killed Gordon, not the Mayor," she said and she felt him shift his weight slightly as she weaved through the heavy traffic.

"Oh well, at least someone's dead," he said and Scarlett laughed.

"I gave one of the goons a nice name badge. Hopefully he gets caught, wouldn't want to waste a good joke," he giggled and Scarlett laughed again.

They arrived back at the warehouse before the others and The Joker pulled off his helmet and went inside. She followed quickly like a lovesick puppy, pulling a bag with her costume and some clean underwear out of the seat of her bike.

She followed him without speaking as he made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom in the back. He shed the most of his costume as he entered before he turned to her.

"So what do you think?" he said smiling widely.

"Of what," she asked, a little confused.

"This!" he said, turning his head from side to side, and she understood he meant his face.

"As handsome as ever," she said but he did not seem satisfied with the answer.

"You don't mind?" he questioned and she shook her head in confusion.

"No make-up?" she questioned and he shook his head wildly.

"No, the scars!" he said angrily, before his smile returned and he cackled.

"No, the scars don't bother me," she said and he looked at her, his eyes so brown they were black, and they seemed to stare into her very soul.

"I love you, don't you understand that?" she said as his stare became cold.

"No," he said simply and warily as she approached him like a person does a rabid dog.

“I don't see what everyone else sees," she said as she moved closer to him, he looked at her warily.

"Where they see a villain, I see a genius"

"Where they see horror, I see beauty," she said as she reached him before she reached up and touched a hand tenderly to his scared cheek. He moved his head into her touch and shut his eyes.

"I love you, Jack. I'm not fooling you or playing a game. To me you are everything. I'd follow you anywhere. You call my name and I fall to your feet. If you asked me to jump off a cliff I would" she said and his eyes snapped open.

"I would never hurt you," he growled and his finger moved to play with the fabric of her jacket.

"I worked out how to hurt Harvey best," he said looking at her, his eyes soft.

"Really how?" she asked.

"Through his girlfriend, but that is not important. I worked it out when Melvin touched you. I realised if someone killed you, it would get to me. And I'm not a good person, so I'd just kill everyone but Harvey maybe that is enough to turn him into who I think he should be" explained Jack and Scarlett smiled.

"You'd care if I died?" she said and he shrugged grunting slightly before she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him.

"You're so lovely you know that," she said kissing his scar, causing him to cackle again.

After that, he changed and put on his make-up. The goons were back so Scarlett changed into Jester and came down stairs. The Joker had new men and was inspecting them closely. She had to admit, the Joker attracted a certain type of person, and she liked to believe she was different, but when you looked close enough she was just as mad as the rest of them.

There was a fat one who kept muttering about voices but the Joker shushed him and set about talking to the boys about a new idea. She sat at the top of the steps her long legs stretched out in front of her as she watched it all. A whistle caught her attention and she looked down at a man standing at the foot of the steps. He was one of the new recruits.

"So who are you then, The Joker-E-na" he laughed slightly. Jester stood and jumped down the steps to stand by him, in her boots, she was taller than him and she smirked as she held out a gloved hand.

"Jester," she said he took her hand and shook it.

"You're very pretty for a clown," he said looking at her chest.

"My eyes are up here" she growled and he laughed.

"Yes, but I like this bit of you better" he laughed and her lip turned up in disgust.

Without much thought, her foot launched up and into his crotch with as much force as she could muster. He fell to the floor with a scream of pain and cradled his crotch with both hands.

"You fucking bitch!" he shouted and she laughed loudly at him.

She launched herself at him jumping up and down on his pain stricken body, laughing maniacally the whole time. The Joker looked over and smirked as he watched Jester pull a knife from her boot and sit down heavily on the man's chest.

Jester pulled his arm out in front of her, so it was flat on the floor.

"Now really I should kill you for what you did but I feel we may need you, so..." she sang as she began to carve deep letters into his arm, he screamed and began to struggle under her weight but she stayed firm. 

As he struggled the knife dug in deeper and she cackled.

"The more you struggle the worse it will be" she giggled as she continued to carve the letters into his arm.

When she was finished the man seemed exhausted and she sat back to admire her handiwork. The word 'PERVERT' was carved into his forearm in large bloody letters.

"Well that was fun," she said looking down at the man who had gone very pale.

"Jester" called the Joker and she looked up innocently at him, her emerald eyes big and guiltless. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Are you playing nicely?" he asked laughing slightly.

"Of course, we're having fun," she said nodding her head and fluttering her eyelashes at The Joker who began to cackle.

"Aren't we?" she prompted the man she was still sat on but he made no response. She began to bounce until a groaning noise was emitted and she looked back up at the Joker.

"See. Fun" she said and he cackled again.

----

Thanks for reading, Please reblog if you enjoyed it. 

#heath ledger #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x OC #heath ledger joker smut #heath ledger joker X original character #heath ledger x femOC #ledger joker #joker x OC #ledger joker x OC #ledger joker smut #joker #joker x reader smut #joker smut #joker fluff #joker x reader fluff #heath ledger joker fanfic #Addicted to the joker #heath ledger joker fanfiction #ledger joker fanfic #heath ledger joker story #joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight joker #the dark knight joker x OC #the dark knight joker smut #the dark knight joker fluff #oc insert

[psalloacappella]

Sirens - CH 5

Title: Sirens Pairing: SasuSaku Chapter: Ao3 | FF Rating:  M

Additional Notes:  new cast alert, enter Ino!; spicy; sad; Sasuke kind of a SIMP; make some noise; some parts nsfw .

.

.

And so again, he finds himself on some surreal plane of existence where there’s another unfamiliar pretty girl in his kitchen, hailing from fuck knows where, tossed onto earth in a momentary absurdity — arriving on a magic carpet or hot air balloon. Often a silent observer to conversations weighty with importance, he has the talent of existing in a room and giving the impression he’s somehow hearing everything and nothing in the same moment.

Introductions dispensed. Coffee and food, he’s learned, always serve as a sufficient social lubricant and functions as the perfect excuse to give them time together to untangle a conversation that sounds like an argument they’ve been having for several years of their lives, the type of historical artifacts that define the best relationships; they’re familiar echoes of the bond of a brother long broken and a best friend that he’s sure has extended much more grace than he’s deserved.

Fingers linger on the handles of mugs, grasp them and set them down, pantomiming and gesturing and weaving stories about people he doesn’t know and passing tokens of lives lived in a separate dimension than his. It’s odd, how the histories of others intertwine and as people share pieces of themselves they fill in the empty questions to create bonds anew, the pasts and presents overlapping, echoing and transforming in layers and rings as carbon dating. The details that follow in the tracks of family lines and secrets.

If he listens, he’ll be able to glean the things this girl has such a difficult time telling him.

“You know it’s hard for your friends when you do this,” Ino chides, reaching forward to flick a lock of her pink hair. A cherished gesture, the type only people so close will tolerate. “Disappear and resurface hundreds of miles away, always moving, never checking in.”

“You should be used to it by now.” Sakura takes a sip of coffee to hide the slight waver in her voice. It gives Sasuke pause and he glances at her over his shoulder from his sentinel role at the stove.

The tint of her drink reminds him of a specific shade of paint, a desultory memory of his home — Saint Martin Sand.

“And every time we come together again, I tell you, stop punishing yourself for no reason. At least this time you’ve made some friends. Cute ones.” Ino watches him watch Sakura and their eyes meet — he breaks it with the slightest blush.

The glitter in her eyes is so knowing, so like Naruto’s, he wonders if he should have taken a long walk instead.

“So let’s just lay this on the table,” Ino continues, setting down her mug with a sharp sound. “You two are a thing, and judging by that ridiculous soap opera outside, you’ve been staying here with him?”

“We’re not together— ”

“Yes, yes, you don’t date, I know.” Ino waves a hand, sweeping away her fruitless protestations. Lifting her chin, she says to Sasuke, “I didn’t mean to join in, it’s just, I finally find her and she’s getting chased by some guy, you can see how I could’ve had the wrong idea.”

“I understand,” Sasuke responds, not turning around. “You two are very close.”

“A man of many words.” Ino refocuses on Sakura, who’s running her fingernail on the lip of the mug, staring into coffee the shade of tropical sand. “As long as he’s kind to you, I suppose I can’t show up and start analyzing it.”

“But you will,” Sakura says, grinning.

“Of course I have a million questions; you’re terrible at keeping in touch. For starters, why is your ankle busted?”

With a bleak groan, Sakura lets her face fall into her hands, fingers sinking into her hair. Ino laughs in a weary way, the love of years so lush and apparent throughout, and their feet tap one another under the table. Both pass the heel of a hand underneath their eyes, a quick swipe, gestures in a mirror.

“Are you going to come sit with us or what?” Ino snarks, fearless in her insistence. A similar frankness that Sakura has in her best moments which take peeled layers to surface. Sasuke wonders just where and when their paths forked, and how those laden with cracks in the soul are lucky enough to find supports like these. Adjusting breakfast to a simmer, he brings his own coffee to take up a seat on an adjacent table side, between them.

“So — how did you two meet?” she asks, tapping the table with each word. Eyes hungry for details, she sways left and right, waiting for one of them to indulge her.

“Ah—”

“Well—”

“He’s a fan of my radio show,” Sakura finally articulates. “He and Naruto — his friend, own a bar and they called in, and honestly I was so curious so I ended up coming in a few days later. And the rest is history.”

Ino smiles. “So how long is that history, two, three weeks?”

Sasuke busies himself with copious coffee drinking, aware he’ll run out before being able to leave the table.

“That’s so cute, it’s nauseating,” Ino adds, grinning at Sasuke. Amused by his embarrassment and baffled that a guy so handsome is sitting here being twisted into knots by a little gossip and interest. She must drive him crazy.

As she watches both of them glance away, askance, eyes on anything but one another, knowing Sakura as well as she does means this dynamic and situation for her is a new foray, an unusual wrinkle and snag in her usual routine of cut and run.

She likes him too. And this, out of all of it, is the most unusual development for her friend that routinely rips up her roots or rarely stays long enough to grow them; the girl that’s been afraid to breathe the same air for one too many heartbeats in fear of making mistakes, taking what she deserves.

And the longer Ino sees Sasuke’s handsome face up close — messy dark hair, charcoal, sharp eyes, the patrician slope of his nose — there’s thoughts sifting in that slippery layer of the unconscious, shifting as sand in soft winds. A sense she’s missing a crucial detail in a larger game.

“You definitely had a good first night with this one. I know, I can tell.” Refusing pretense, Ino drops this on the table and sips with a satisfied smile.

“Pig, please!” Sakura sounds annoyed, but it still marries a soft, scolding tone to what must be a childhood, agreed-upon name.

Scrunching up her face, Ino taps her forehead twice. Children making faces on glass windows or at one another on a playground, a reference to simpler times. They grew up together bonded by dirty knees and whispered secrets. Not unlike the way Sasuke and his brother were so long ago, before they were groomed, primed for their inescapable roles: A reprieve from destiny is not the pardon.

All three startle at the sound of jangling keys; Sasuke, with his back to the door, turns in his seat and throws a careless arm over the back of the chair. Glancing back to Sakura, they exchange a small ghost of a smile, a hidden and intimate reference to experiences only privy to them.

“‘Kay, Sasuke, I know you told me not to just walk into your apartment, ‘specially now that you’ve had this super cute girl around, but this is definitely, totally—”

When he sees Ino at the end of the table, Sasuke gracing him with the woebegone, tired expression that he always receives when intruding, and Sakura smiling at his arrival, he stops in his tracks over the threshold.

Naruto’s mouth falls open with impunity. Sakura waves at him.

“ — important,” Naruto finishes, closing the door with his foot behind him. Shoulders sagging, he tosses his keys on the counter and whines. “Unreal, man. You found another one. An impossibly attractive girl and now they’re both in your damn kitchen!”

Ino points at him, palm facing up, in a lazy gesture. “Who’s this dork?”

“That’s his best friend,” Sakura says, nodding at Sasuke.

“Seriously? This guy?”

“Naruto,” Sasuke begins, running a hand through his messy hair, “the fuck did I tell you about walking in like this? Just knock. Or as you remind me, we have phones.”

“Well maybe you should start putting up a sign or something, or a sock on the door or some shit, because I can’t keep up with your life.” Without invitation, Naruto helps himself to coffee and continues rambling while lifting the lid to inspect the simmering food. “Or better yet you could let me know when you’re just befriending beautiful women and where exactly you find them, because you have zero interest in the ones at the bar.”

“Listen, uh, what’s your name? Naruto, you said? Sasuke and I haven’t had the pleasure of—” Ino breaks off, hissing ow! under her breath from a well-placed kick. “It’s not like that. I’m Sakura’s friend — I’m like the you to him,” she says, pointing to each of them respectively to illustrate her point. “So relax, because I’m assuming you’re joining us.”

Sakura starts laughing while Naruto drops the lid back onto the pan and stares, mouth in a perfect, round “O.”

Smiling wide, Ino preens in the manner of an exotic species so very cognizant of its worth.

“So, go back to the part where I’m impossibly attractive.”

.

.

.

Sasuke’s second breakfast consisting of people other than Naruto and himself sails by in the way time well-spent feels warm and sublime. The buoyancy of laughter and a tentative kindling, the way it proceeds through a fated narrative as each piece settles into its destined groove. Naruto, unstoppable from the glow of caffeine, breakfast he didn’t make, and an attractive blonde, narrates the dramatic and fated meeting of his best friend and this radio girl of the night in sordid detail, to Ino’s delight. Sakura interjects to correct notions along the way, and Sasuke abandons fantasies of pitching him off the balcony or dropping him down the fire escape, instead settling for heavy sighs and staring at her while she speaks, as she augments the conversation with slender hands and pointed fingers.

“So then last night he rushed off to save her from the police station. I mean, I was worried too obviously. And . . . I don’t know what all happened after that. You never called.”

Both of them with widened eyes, a clear giveaway as any of all the details that sound ludicrous in the light of day. This time, it’s Sasuke who speaks.

“All I did was pick her up. She was helping someone out and the police needed to speak with her to confirm things.” Taking a quiet sip of coffee, he adds, “She didn’t need saving.”

Sakura’s eyes soften, and she drops her eyes to the remnants of her breakfast.

Ino sighs, setting her fork on her empty plate with a clink. “Knowing her, she beat ‘em up herself.”

“Come on, Ino, why don’t you just tell him all of my embarrassing stories?” Sakura pouts, a joke laced with the tiniest warning, a rough string tightening. “More importantly, I need your help with something.”

“Name it,” Ino says. “I have all the time in the world! I’m staying at a hotel, trying to get a real feel for the city. Never been here, you know, and I’d like to stay a while before—” She breaks off, glancing at Sasuke, and changes tack. “I haven’t seen you in a long time, that’s all.”

“Work is having an event, and I think it’s fancy, very high-class, you know. Those things make me so uncomfortable.”

“I always tell you, everyone’s faking it at those events. You’re sweet enough to muddle your way through one night.” Ino looks Sasuke directly in the eyes; he has the distinct feeling she’s untangling him, and this, and that she has the tenacity to see it through.

“These are rich people, Ino. I’m a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and I don’t belong there.”

The comment piques Naruto’s interest momentarily and he tilts his head; Sasuke watches her closely.

“Don’t start that,” Ino warns, again waving away her concerns easily.

“Apparently it’s not the radio subsidiary itself, but the parent company. The night I was working I think the man I spoke with was the owner, the CEO."

Eyes alight, Ino reaches for her bag slung over the back of the chair and pulls out a thin, light laptop. Pushing aside her empty dishes, she boots it up in half a second and waits for details, eager fingers poised over the keys. “Tell me details.”

“Tall, pale eyes. A stoic sort of guy. Brunette, very long hair. Like yours,” Sakura says to her, “and just as cared for.”

“So very pretty, your usual type, heh,” Ino teases. Her fingers fly over the keys. “I might have an idea . . .”

“Ino has a well-known family,” Sakura explains to Sasuke. Touches his arm in a soft gesture to hold his attention, not that he’s ever able to be distracted away from her. “The Yamanakas?”

Waving blithely, Ino rejects the notion. “We aren’t that regal, please. We’re in a totally different universe than, say, the Uzumaki’s.”

A full ten seconds passes before what she says registers on Naruto’s face. The typing continues at a lively pace. Sakura’s looking at him with a strange expression, an impassiveness that seems to be a projection, a mask, hiding twisting questions beneath. Naruto looks at Sasuke and opens his mouth —

— and all that comes is an ow! and tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Here we go,” Ino says, pulling back the attention of the group. Turning the laptop around for them to see, she points. “Neji Hyuuga, one of the youngest media moguls and owner of blah blah enterprises, took over when his dad passed away, the usual way it goes in families like these.”

The pale eyes remind her of the girl from the police station, and she looks to Sasuke as if for confirmation. Confirms it to her with an imperceptible nod.

“I assume there’s a press release,” Sakura says, intrigued.

“Of course. They probably control whoever writes about them anyway. Talk about a conflict of interest.” A relentless cadence of tapping keys, and her ocean eyes are just visible over the lid of the laptop. “‘Annual event, mighty and generous’, blah blah, ‘held at the historic but well-loved — wow, look at this place. It’s beautiful in that old money sort of way.

Chair legs scrape against the floor as they gather in a semicircle to read along, emitting whistles and comments here and there as they take in the grandiose venue and the Hyuuga family’s credentials. Sasuke, though, is quiet. Sakura’s eyes are wide, dazzled and intimidated by the prospect of all of it.

“Oh god, I can’t go to something like this,” she groans. “I’m going to look so stupid and out of place.”

“Sakura!” Ino pushes her chair back, startling the other two as they back out of her way. Taking her shoulders, she shakes her a little. “You have to go to an event like this. People bend over backwards maintaining relationships with this family and donate money just to potentially go to this! I know why you need me — to dress you, of course! This is supposed to happen; I know it.”

Sasuke takes Ino’s empty seat, eyes darting over the screen.

“Ino, you’re such a romantic. What am I even going to talk about with these people?”

“It doesn’t matter. These are basically playgrounds for the rich and famous. If you want to give your career a leg up, you have to do this.”

“My career?” Sakura snorts, shoulders sagging. Closing in on herself, an instinctual fear. “Ino, I failed out of pre-med and change leases as often as clothes. Now I do a radio show in the dead of night speaking with lonely people.”

“All the more reason to get out there and find people who can help you. Maybe it’s time to stop leaving with the wind and start trusting yourself. Besides,” she says, hands on her hips, daring her to disagree, “isn’t it time you let yourself have some fun?”

Sakura doesn’t answer, lips slightly parted and seeking a rebuke she doesn’t have. Whirling around, Ino demands of her new friends, “Back me up here!”

“Ah well, Sakura,” Naruto says, sheepish and red, “I’m with Ino, here on this one. And this is totally my own opinion because you’re really cool, and we’re friends now, I think. All these families know each other. It’s a ‘who’s who’ of important people in a lot of industries. And,” here he grins, eyes bright, “you can do and find whatever you want at an event like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sakura asks.

“It means,” Ino says, cutting across his response, “that you will not be taking a walk of shame in a princess dress on a dingy train or in the back of a cab. You can stay in my hotel room downtown — it’s not far from the venue. You will arrive and leave from this event in style. If you come home, of course.” She winks with gusto.

“I’m borrowing this,” Sasuke says abruptly, picking up the laptop and taking his phone out of his pocket with his other hand. Ino shrugs, go for it. Taking up a seat in his own living room, he connects with someone on the phone and speaks to them in a tone relatively terse, his rich voice commanding as opposed to conciliatory.

The sound of his voice tips a smile onto Sakura’s face. Ino glances between the two and the understanding is a jolt of electricity, a hundred tiny neurons firing to complete the picture in the spark of a moment.

“You asked him already.”

“I’ve vetted him,” Sakura teases, and now it’s impossible to hide. The way the thought of him snatches the air out of her throat, the heavy swallow to recoup; green eyes consuming and caught in a mimeo of the past and Ino knows that it’s not him who has her, but he who has stumbled and tripped into her orbit. And Ino’s only ever seen her look at one other man this way; the nascent and feverish meeting of chance, the genesis of an endless chain reaction, atoms in a runaway chemical tryst. Ino had been present for it but somehow failed to notice everything that was wrong. All of it colliding in this moment as she sees the shadow of its consequence in her gaze.

“Thank you,” Sasuke says. With the slightest incline of his head, he returns the closed laptop to Ino and pockets his phone. Unable to tear her gaze away now, Ino struggles to form words as his fingers take Sakura’s elbow and he murmurs to her in an undertone. A talent of omitting others from his space if he chooses, even as they scrabble on the outside, a manipulation, or closer to a bewitchment, of reality.

Sakura looks down at her wrapped ankle, giving it a flex and wiggle. Ino knows he’s already doomed by the damned, and all she can do is give her futile warning and watch it play. Sasuke speaks again, but the chaotic buzzing in her ears drowns it all out.

Sakura folds her arms, resolute. “That’s so expensive, Sasuke. I’ve . . . never been anywhere that nice.”

And he tucks pink strands behind her ear in the crackling and kindling of the atmosphere difficult to breathe in.

“And a suite? What could we possibly do with all that space?”

But there’s a smile seeping into the corner of her lips, and his suggestive silence leaves myriad answers.

“You have a balcony.” Ino raises her voice, pulling them back to reality. “Show me it?”

Sasuke shrugs in genuine indifference; Sakura narrows her eyes. “You just want to interrogate him. Please don’t scare him away — I’ll do it soon enough.”

Ino brushes past them and throws aside the sliding glass door, styled French, reflecting that this isn’t the type of man many likely manage to forcibly do much of anything. It may be curiosity or out of deference to the woman he’s entangled with, but he follows without complaint.

The door is barely closed before she bursts.

“Do you even know her, Sasuke?”

Furrows his eyebrows as if she’s a mildly interesting painting, but doesn’t respond to her immediately. Dark eyes glimmer with a suspicion that makes her shiver a little as they're turned on her, unflinching, a shadow in them she wasn’t expecting — likely the very thing that’s brought Sakura to it, a frenzied moth to light. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, the alluring visions in her eyes drowning him in an ocean similar to the stories, the schizophrenic and duplicitous nature of open family secrets.

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Please,” she snorts, surveying him. “Messy dark hair, that attitude of yours. Handsome nose. Those eyes.” At this, her gaze flits away to the horizon. “You’re an Uchiha.”

Though he doesn’t confirm, the way his gaze stays steady, level, and intense is enough.

“Granted,” she continues, “there are a lot of you, and you all have quite the strong genes, looking so much alike. You’re one of the most famous families in the country. And I think she has an idea, but it’s different when you don’t grow up hearing the stories; when you’re not in the same circles. She’s not like you.”

“If you have something to ask,” he says, “I’d rather we not dance around it.” The bite, the press of assertion.

Ino knows it’s everything Sakura has a taste for, a history of — a craving that’s always worth tearing apart at the tendons and roots.

“If I thought you’d be straightforward about it, I’d ask. I think you have no idea of the type of person you’re obsessed with.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t bother with denying it. You think I haven’t seen this before? Look . . . we do this all the time, run in circles. After she left town, and her parents died, I tried to keep up with her. She’s my best friend. She’s not ever out to ruin anyone but that’s what she usually does. Guys, just, they get wrapped up in her and then when it’s too serious for her, she leaves. She thinks she’s hard to love, like she’s cursed or blessed or something that ends up more like a sickness than something functional.”

The accuracy and plain verity of her words feels like a sharp jab to the chest.

“And I don’t know much about you as a person, but I do know what I’ve read and what I’ve heard.”

“You’re right,” Sasuke says. “You don’t know anything about me. And I don’t give time to gossip and rumors.”

“You don’t get it. She didn’t even have my number in her new phone, and she never keeps any. You know why? She expects people in her life to disappear, so she just leaves them first.”

Sasuke remembers the call to the bar, the number that would have been fresh in her mind or the one on file with the city, as opposed to his personal phone.

“She can’t stay away from certain types of people. Certain men. Everyone has a weakness, right? And that’s hers. The more I’m talking to you, seeing you around each other, I have the feeling your problem is the same.”

He’s certainly not in the mood for another woman too sharp for her own good. Avoiding her assessment, he deflects. “How did you even find her, then?”

“Trade secrets,” she says in a sardonic tone. “My father’s a, what do you call it, ‘analyst’ for the government.” She adds air quotes to make her point clear. “Sure that’s what he does. I can tell by the types of friends we had, all families who understood the culture. You only have gatherings like we did when your family’s, A, in the government or B, organized crime.” Tilting her head, she smirks. “You’d know.”

“So, family resources?”

“But really,” she laughs, “I just used the internet. It’s not so hard to do if you know enough about someone. We are best friends, after all.”

Like Sakura, it can be difficult to tell how close she is to sarcasm. A similar brand of mordancy. He takes Ino at her word with a nod.

“She’s smart. She probably has an idea of who you might be, maybe she’s trying not to know. And she’s never been one for gossip or celebrity news — she reads a lot, but always nerdy subjects. Well, that’s why she was going to be a doctor, I suppose.”

A silence. When he deigns to speak, Ino isn’t able to hide her surprise.

“She’s told me a bit about herself, but not much. I don’t think her and I are people who open up easily.”

“She used to be different,” Ino says wistfully. “But there are things in this life that are difficult to shake off; they hurt you so deeply you don’t heal. Or at least, you don’t heal correctly.”

“I’m guessing you won’t tell me what those things were?”

When she raises her sapphire eyes to his, she’s torn between spilling it all and knowing that a betrayal so significant would ruin a relationship with the only person she can still trust. Still, she’s terrified thinking about the prospects of either outcome with this man, knowing that he is madly, stupidly in love with a harbinger of chaos, and most don’t make it out of that web in one piece. Perhaps no one does, with her.

“That’s not my place,” she finally says. “Go with her and have fun. You strike me as someone who could use some, too. But I mean this in the kindest possible way — one day she’ll run, and she will leave. She can’t help herself. She . . . can’t stay away from the mess.”

Sasuke continues watching her in mild amusement. His smirk causes a nervous flutter in her stomach; Ino puzzles over his underreaction to her words.

Opening the door and gesturing her back inside, signaling the end of their conversation, he simply says, “I know.”

They rejoin the other two:  Sakura with her ankle propped up on a cushion and Naruto next to her babbling about what sounds like his childhood, tales of adventures and boring classes in private institutions, uniforms and study prep and a flush of love for parents long gone. Sasuke suspects now that the place and life she comes from is a world he’s not familiar with; when she nods and makes careful comments here and there, trying to carefully step around the gaps in her knowledge, that emotion swells again. That urge to drape her in finery and act as the constant indulgence she can use over and over, to absolutely and unequivocally hand her the keys to a kingdom. A compulsion to fulfill a need unspoken.

“Hey you, Naruto.” His babbling screeches to a halt, and he automatically catches the phone Ino tosses to him with a smile. “Let me get your number.”

The way his expression flips in an instant, confusion to an incandescent brightness, causes another fluttering. “Sure!”

Ino exchanges with each of them, and she notices as she wanders around their contacts in her surreptitious way that neither of them have Sakura’s last name in their phone. Filing that detail away for herself, her thumb hovers over the screen as she finishes her entry in Naruto’s phone and returns it.

When she looks at his contact card and sees the name Uzumaki, she taps to edit and adds a sunshine, grinning.

“By the way, if you’re planning to stay for a long time and don’t want to be in a hotel for all of that, I mean, I live across the hall. Just saying. That way you’re close to Sakura and people you know in a new city!”

Hand on her hip, Ino tries to keep her ego tamped down, if even just a little. “You’re so transparent.”

Horrified, he holds up his hands with palms out, shaking his head. “No, no, I have a guest bedroom, no one stays in it, really. I’m not trying anything funny.” Indicating Sakura, he laughs. “She’s punched two people in a month, and I’m one of them. If you’re her friend, I know what I’m up against.”

.

.

.

Growing up Sasuke was in his fair share of fights and scraps on the playground, and then older, in bars and with drunk friends — after his mother dies he will participate in and be the progenitor of so many more. Her scolding reverberates in his ear about all the reasons he shouldn’t mar his handsome, regal face, and he hears his father in these same memories dismissing her concerns, sneering that it’s good he toughens up in any way he can.

If his mother was still alive she wouldn’t know what to say to this behavior, these mistakes he’s making: Writhing beneath the burning touch of a tiny nymph with pink hair, splayed beneath her as if blown apart and pinned up by the limbs, lepidoptera, as she straddles him in a hitched-up navy skirt with the heels of her sandals etching divots into his skin that will soften and fade to beautiful bruises.

Two fingers in his mouth and her other hand working in a heated, rhythmic pace on his cock, he’s sure there would be a distinct lack of approval of being roughhoused by this girl with no name who seems to have the desire to leave him a shaking, gasping excuse for his family name.

He’s sure he would agree to let her kill him if she wanted; there’s almost nothing at this point that’s beyond the realm of reasonable requests. Especially with her pinning him without mercy, soaked and dripping between her thighs, a red and mottled flush surfacing through the skin of her chest and collarbones as she presses him into small submissions, the ways that men with faces like his don’t often experience.

(Returning from shopping with a large bag swinging from her hand, eyes bright despite her little limp. Volunteering information before he’s even apt to ask:  She loves it, and no he can’t see it yet, and she has work in a while but not quite yet. Ino’s out exploring the city accompanied by Naruto.)

And it’s what she doesn’t say but he hears in her voice, in the come-hithers and low tones and the space between them always feeling like an ache, an endless expanse that yearns for nothing but to be restitched and torn over again in repetitious revolutions, the drowning and resuscitation an addiction in itself. Coming together to pull apart and wound with another million fibers each time in a dazed and deadly isochronism.

Small and light like feathers and lips like morphine:  With her legs around his hips and fingers in his dark hair yanking him to expose the apple of his neck, she hisses

I want to hear you

Down the hallway and he does as she bids, gritting his teeth while her lips tour his neck and linger in his ears

I want your noise

And he tries to take her with him but she places her fingers on his chest and bounces him into the soft bedspread, straddling him, clawing at his shirt and maneuvering it over his head to toss it aside. Bites her lip as she raises her chin to gaze down on him, jade eyes and parted lips and rolling her hips in an agonizing move that tears a moan from his throat —

Good boy she says, good boy

And when she says it his pulse beats in a stilted cadence and his hips press up against her, desperate, unable to touch enough of her like this and how did he fucking end up here, with her still clothed and him barely so while coaxing the full beautiful, colorful continuum of human sounds from his throat, sounds he’s stymied to know or possess and why when she calls him this his breath hitches, a choke, a reaction he’s unable to hide, not the least when her slim fingers reach for him, the scrape of her nails on his belt

Hips jerking and shuddering again as she takes him into her hand

It’s unfair how attractive you are, Sasuke

Like before he reaches for her, the calluses of his fingers dragging across her canvas of skin on fire and

she slaps them away, clicking her tongue in admonishment, he doesn’t learn

I meant what I said; that’s no way to get me to help you

Swallows down the pathetic word that sits as a lump in his throat, the one she’s aiming for and he doesn’t know how she knows it’s there but she’ll tear it from him no matter how many minutes a breakdown takes, and great fucking god he’s about to give it to her under duress of those soft silk fingers, the same ones that hold coffee mugs and command his attention and tell stories but now they feel like they’re where they belong, pumping him with the practiced and smooth movements of one who wields control so precise

Fuck, Sa-Sakura, fuck

Oh sweetheart, that’s not what quite I’m looking for

The first time a finger finds its way past his lips and into his mouth, open and panting and wanting already, the jolt and shudder and full roiling of his lean, fit body forces a breathy gasp from her own; the dangerous rock of her own hips she indulges in leaves her eyelashes fluttering shut in glimmering repose.

The tang, it bursts on his tongue

Unable to process the taste — salt, sweat, musk, the liminal zest between his and hers impossible to sift between

Then another long, slim finger in his mouth and here she persists again, ruthless and divine in and inhuman and the unceasing rhythm as she works him stays just a single syncopated note from release, as if she knows the precise rhythm and flow in which they could collide

Please

I want to hear you, Sasuke

Incoherent, torn him from him as skin from fruit, the feathering of plumage

Please — !

That laugh, spreading and coating as viscid honey, dense and lush and soaking him down

You’re so good, you know. I know men like you hate this

— the buckles of her heeled sandals patterning friction on the skin of thighs and the repetitive sticky scrapes of well-worn athletic tape as she holds him, cages him—

but you just look so good like this, I love you like this

So precious, she reflects for a moment, taking him in, wasted and dashed and black pupils blown as his eyes lose focus for a moment. Removes her fingers from his mouth with a wet hollowing sound that brings with it a guttural groan, throaty and incoherent

And the absolutely desperate pitch at the close

undoes her and she yanks him up by the hair, scrabbling at the bare skin of his shoulders with her fingernails and kisses him, when he lifts her so easily and they fumble with flimsy and frustrating fabrics until she settles on him again with a moan, filled to the brim and lost in brilliance

stuttering out his name in his ear in ways that make her forget she doesn’t plan for forevers.

.

.

.

“Dude.”

Naruto snaps his fingers in front of Sasuke’s twice, thrice. A flicker of recognition and reality surfaces and he blinks, swatting away his friend’s hand.

“Don’t.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you’ve just been spaced the fuck out for ten minutes.”

“I doubt that,” Sasuke says tartly, plucking a piece of paper from the office desk and pretending to consider it. Careful ignorance seems preferable to enduring the endless taunting and ribbing from Naruto, and lately that’s been nothing less than a guarantee.

“Okay, a minute or so, but you look blown out. Wasted. I can’t put my finger on it. Do you feel sick?”

“Shut up, will you? I’m—”

“Sad?”

“Working,” he finishes firmly.

“Nah, yer not.”

Naruto folds his arms and squints at Sasuke, then takes a meandering lap around the back office, hemming and hawing.

Though he’s not concentrating on any numbers in front of him, he loses focus again, flatlines, lost in a dream. Contented.

Naruto punches his fist into his hand opposite, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’m an idiot.”

“Now you’ve got it.”

“She laid you out, didn’t she? Sent you on a ride. What obscenely tight part of you did she get into?”

Sasuke leans back in the office chair, folding his arms. Avoiding his eyes and the flickering heat in his face that threatens to give him away, like he’s a little boy. “Fuck off.”

“I’m definitely going to ask her what she did to you. You’re like, bright. Glowing? I’ve heard that word. It’s coming off you in, like, waves.”

“If you ever say that word around me again,” Sasuke says, snatching up a stapler, “They won’t find your body.”

Raising it, Sasuke pretends to throw it — Naruto flinches. Relaxes.

Sasuke whips it at him anyway.

“Ow! Temper, tsk tsk,” Naruto teases, rubbing his arm where it hit.

Shikamaru strolls in with his hand in his pockets, sighing. “Ah, Sasuke, there’s someone asking about you at the bar. He’s been hanging around for a while and I don’t think he’s leaving. I figured if he knew you, he’d contact you directly, but—”

“Hey, hey Shikamaru,” Naruto interrupts. “Look at him. He’s too busy being lost in—”

“Who is he?” Sasuke asks. “What does he look like?”

“Eh, honestly, he looks a lot like you. Older, maybe? Same eyes, spiky hair.”

A lurching, a twisting in the gut. The expression on his face foreboding enough that both of them move swiftly out of his path as he heads for the front, adrenaline pouring into his limbs, readying for a brawl.

When he arrives, however, nothing’s left but the wrinkled napkin, weathered and worn from dallying fingers and the perspiring empty glass, drunk to its dregs.

For a moment Sasuke gazes across the bar — a slower night with lingering groups in booths and a few scattered and two-top tables. No one remains that looks like him, not even close.

After all, he can always feel them in a crowd. As if bonded by invisible strings, always forced into the productions and whims of the family, it being a force so much darker and greater than himself. The portraits in the old house halls with a multitude of photographs in varying time periods and shades, an illustration of consolidated privilege and sovereignty. Far from the old ways things used to be done but nevertheless woven into the fabric of societal institutions in a manner so deft and desecrating.

The things his brother had always hated, railing against it in quiet dissent.

And in the end he had made his point, violent and vehement in a final way.

It rises, a pain in his chest and an unbidden, murky memory of the way his father slammed his hands on the table, again and again in an unceasing rhythm and his finger so close to his brother’s face he was sure it wouldn’t make it through the argument. As the years aged them all, he had begun to reject the authoritarian notion and the name. Perhaps it had broken him more than Sasuke had been able to understand.

When he remembers it again and he’s unable to breathe, he hates how he grasps the counter and gropes for the nearest bottle, and he would lunge for paint thinner if it made it all stop — the echoes of potent rage rising to a crushing din

You don’t bring people like that around — !

Never again — !

You

don’t bring

her here — !

#sasusaku #sasusakufanfic #psalloacappella #AU verse #lime #psalloacappella:sirens

[scribeofmorpheus]

The Rebel Queen (iv)

Chapter Four: Convergence

Pairing: Poe Dameron x (OFC) Princess Calista Ordell

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | A03

Words:  | Warnings: More ramblings of a delusional fanfic writer…

A/N: Finally our two protagonists meet... just not how you#d envision it.

Taglist is open

Epilogue | About Thesmora

Hyperspace...

Poe took his holo-call in the privacy of a storage room. General Leia’s face was a portrait in blue as she filled him in on what new intel she had gathered.

“Maz got in touch again. Your contact has arrived on Takodana. She’s a member of the House of Ordell. And seeing as there are only three members of that house remaining, I’m assuming it’s the young princess, Calista.” Leia’s face lit up in a half-smile as she remembered something. “I met her once. When she was just a child. She was so shy, unlike her mother and father. Always clinging to the coattails of the admiral like he was some boulder keeping her from being swept away.” She lifted her head, her eyes set back on Poe.

Poe shook his head when he realised she was waiting for some form of confirmation that he knew about what she was speaking of. The name didn’t ring any bells.

Leia explained further, “They’re royalty. They govern over a small planet situated close to the Outer Rim. Thesmora.” She said the planets name as though it would mean something to him, but Poe simply ran a hand through his hair and shrugged with indifference. The General huffed at him.

“It’s a big galaxy,” he defended himself.

“Indeed it is,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It used to be a beacon of neutrality within the galaxy. However, Thesmora has fallen to infighting. Not much noise has been made about it considering how much confusion and fear the galaxy is in after the First Order fired their superweapon. Their skirmish has gone relatively unnoticed.”

“Maybe the people simply wanted to govern themselves?”

“No, I knew the late queen. We didn’t agree on much and she was as stubborn as a mule, but her subjects adored her. More importantly, she would have proven to be a great ally…” Something bothered Leia, the lines on her face becoming more prominent as she furrowed her brow in thought. “It’s curious. News of her death came to me around the same time I received correspondence from her. It can’t be a coincidence. “

Poe lingered for a while, feet kicking the air.

“Speak your mind Commander,” Leia urged, having noticed his reaction.

“Are you sure this was all worth it?” He slumped onto a box, a sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t doubt your reasons for sending me on this mission. I just can’t help but wonder if I was the right choice. I’m trying to see things your way, but I’m flying blind here. And that’s the worst feeling for a pilot to have. Especially the pilot you chose to lead this expedition.”

“You’re afraid it would all turn out to be a waste of time,” she said it as if she had the power to read his thoughts. “Have faith, Commander. I had sensed something before Maz had contacted me. She felt it too. And now we discover that a potentially powerful ally is in need of assistance… Call it fate or coincidence, matters not. What matters is that the Resistance is hobbling on one leg as it is. If we hope to survive, we have to be willing to take risks. Even if those risks seem to be fools' errands.”

“Those are large hopes to place on a princess of a homeworld that is currently too busy fighting its own war to care about the one being waged against the entire galaxy, General.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“And my orders?” he asked.

“I am transferring a data packet to your terminal. Hand it to the princess. And only the princess. It’s time we took direct action.”

The terminal stopped the projection and Poe was left alone with his thoughts. Then he heard Paige call him over his terminal, “Uh, hotshot, mind coming back down here. I’ve gotta pull us out of hyperspeed and I’m afraid I might rip us to shreds if I accidentally press the wrong button.”

Poe smiled as he left the cold, compressed space of the storage locker and made his way to the cockpit which was filled with the noises of several alarms and flashing lights.

 "Easy does it, Tico, don't want to jostle us around on landing," he cautioned as his new second mate retracted the landing gear sloppily. Her arm muscles strained to keep the ship in alignment and he could tell she wasn't ready for this particular task just yet. He flicked a few switches, turned more dials and pressed several buttons. The landing controls had been transferred to him and Paige audibly sighed, wiping the sweat off her brow. A shake settling in her bones more freely now.

"I could’ve handled that," she made light of the situation after Poe had set the ship down in a clearing surrounded by tall, canopied trees.

He chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and pushing his chair backwards, "Sure you could've." It was hard to tell whether he meant to be sarcastic, sincere or teasing, but Paige seemed to take it lightly.

"I just thought you were getting bored since I did all the flying this time," she wore a smug smile.

One of his eyes twitched, "All the flying?"

She playfully punched his sides as they made their way to the rear of the ship, "Is someone's ego hurt?"

“It’ll take more than that, I assure you,” he shot her a warm smile as he pressed the door’s side panel and light flushed through the cooling ship.

Paige took a step back from the encroaching light, face scrunched up in a tight squint. She had yet to habituate herself with the constant changes forced upon the human body during intragalactic travel. Poe recognised that squint, he had worn it many times when he first started flying through hyperspace. It was always accompanied by vertigo, nausea and a flash of white spots that bombarded his vision. During his worse trips, he’d even experience the regular bout of muscle spasms. Years of flying had trained his body to become acclimated to the abrupt changes in environment that came with travelling through hyperspace. It was a discipline that came with the territory. Being a passenger was one thing, piloting under intense conditions and forcing your mind and body to stay lucid and responsive was a whole other ball game. Lucky for Paige, Poe hadn’t noticed any uncontrollable shaking… yet.

“Shut your eyes. Take three deep breaths and focus on your feet while walking. Your inner-ear should balance itself out. If you start to shake, ride it out, it’s worse when you fight it,” he offered his advice while she tentatively took a step forward and regretted it because she hissed away from the light in lightning-quick movements.

“Ughh, why does piloting make you feel worse after?” she groaned as she tried her luck one more time.

Poe chuckled, “It’s a small price to pay for conquering the stars.”

“Commander,” one of his men saluted behind him. It was a young lad with freckles dotted all over his nose and cheeks. His bright-eyed manner adding no hardness to his fresh face. Poe guessed he wasn’t a day older than him when he first started flying for the New Republic.

Poe extended his hand and was met with an enthusiastic handshake, “You’re new. I don’t think I saw you board the ship. What’s your name?”

“Ah, yes. This is my first official mission. I usually work in engineering. It’s an honour, sir,” he rambled, a flush of embarrassment and excitement turning his skin almost the same shade of red as his curls. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier –since you were flying and such. I just… wanted to offer my assistance.” He fumbled with his hands until he decided fisting them into his overalls was the more convenient thing to do.

Paige tittered behind Poe’s shoulder and he had to bite his cheek to keep from doing the same, “I didn’t get your name?”

“It’s Cors, sir. Zeeke Cors.”

Paige’s voice took on a high pitch, “Wait, the Zeeke Cors? I thought you’d be… older.” She sounded impressed.

Poe turned to her, his brows raised by half a millimetre, “Am I missing something.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sir. Just a fluke that stuck and made me sound like some big wig with big brains and a little too much luck on his side,” he beamed. “Frankly, I’m just a guy who was in the right place at the right time.”

“He’s being modest,” Paige scoffed. “He managed to sneak aboard a First Order ship and sabotage its flight controls preventing it from pursuing a resistance medical vessel back to D’Qar. No one would have known he did it either, if they hadn’t found him passed out in the galley with the capacitor fused into his palm.” She turned to the young man, finger pointing to his arm, and then continued: “Didn’t they have to give you a prosthetic?”

He untucked his left hand from his pocket and rolled up the sleeve, “Nah, just grafts. My injuries were somewhat exaggerated by my crewmates. Makes for a more interesting story. At least, that’s what they tell me.”

The hero type, eh?

He took a step forward, glancing around as though someone might be listening in, “Between us, the ship was empty. The troopers had already disembarked when I snuck in through a maintenance hatch. The pilot and second mate didn’t even notice me because I was in a crawl space the entire time.”

Poe tucked his arms around his chest, “How’d you know about the crawl space? Ever worked on a First Order ship before?”

Zeeke shook his head, “Nope. I just have a knack for fixing things. Besides, most ships are designed the same. My brother works on Canto Bight as a…” he paused for a second and decided to let that detail slide. “Anyway, he showed me some blueprints once. The Hutt’s pay a lotta credits for any info they can get on ship designs. Makes for good saboteuring. That’s what they say, anyway.” He shrugged awkwardly before stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “So, what ‘dya say to having an extra pair of eyes tag along? I make a good spotter.”

From how he held himself, Poe would have figured Zeeke to be a little too nervous to have on a mission, but after hearing the strange twang in his accent and the types of words he used, he wasn’t so sure nervous was an accurate assumption. Wiry was perhaps a better description. He mulled over the short boy’s proposal for a long minute.

Paige was the one to break the silence, “Aww, come on Commander, cut the kid some slack. How many chances do you think he’s had to visit Takodana? Hell, it’s my first time here too. And by that count, it means only one of us knows the lay of the land. An extra man watching our backs doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Twice,” Zeeke added.

“What?” Paige hummed in confusion.

“You said ‘how many chances do you think he’s had to visit Takodana?’” he held up two fingers in a V. “Twice. Which means you’d have two people who know the lay of the land on your team. I also have a good memory. Remember most things on the fly. Makes me a terrible sabacc player.”

“Because you always lose?” she cocked her head to the side.

“Because I always win. And the house didn’t like that…” his attention drifted momentarily before he shook himself back to the present.

Paige opened her mouth, probably to inquire about his two prior visits or his penchant for sabacc considering he seemed unlike the usual type that would wind up at a pirate haven –not once, but twice– and also partake in high stakes gambling. Poe interjected to wrap thing up. They’d spent long enough just standing there.

“Why not,” he agreed. “Tell the others to stay ready in case we need to make a quick and loud exit. Maz will try and keep things civil, but you never know.”

“Great!” he rolled on the balls of his heels like a kid building up confidence to ask a question. “Do I get a blaster?”

Paige and Poe exchanged a look before they both nodded, but not in a way that said yes. “No,” they said simultaneously before they made their way to Maz’s place beyond the dense tree line, Zeeke ran after them once he relayed Poe’s orders.

 “What do you think a princess looks like?” Paige whispered in Poe’s direction as they scoured the riff-raff populating the hot and stuffy make-shift cantina. “I mean, I know the General used to be a princess but then… you know, Alderaan went all kablooey. I’ve seen images of the queen of Naboo before, but if someone dressed like that was in here, they’d stick out like a Tusken Raider on Hoth.”

Zeeke chuckled, his voice drawing the attention of several lurkers who had kept their sights trained on them since they arrived. That small action seemed to tell those unfriendly faces that they weren’t intimidated in the least, despite being relatively new faces in this establishment. The staring masses seemed to be satisfied with Zeeke’s show of confidence and they went about their business as usual.

He sure was good at reading a room, Poe thought. That could come in handy.

“I’ve seen a few princesses. Most of them always wear fancy dresses with too much jewellery. The kind of too much that means they aren’t in the least bit worried about losing one of their eight rings. Heck, I once saw a prince wearing so much jewellery I mistook him for a woman,” Zeeke told Paige. She found his slip up amusing. “Don’t laugh, it was an honest mistake. Besides, if you’d seen him, you’d be thrown for a loop too.”

Paige poked his side with a large grin, “What, did the handsome prince fluster you?”

Zeeke scoffed, “No. And he wasn’t handsome.” He stuck out his thumb close to Poe’s chin. “Poe is handsome. He was… beautiful. Hence the reason I mistook him for a princess.” His words came out nonchalantly like he was telling Paige water was wet.

Paige snorted loudly, a laugh braced behind her palm as she tried to hold back her laughing fit.

“Well, I guess all we have to do is look for a beautiful man who wears a lot of jewellery,” Poe teased with a half-smirk.

Zeeke mouthed a ‘Ha-ha’ before he tapped on Poe’s jacket discretely, “Actually, I think I’ve spotted them.” He nudged his nose towards a table in the back placed in a poorly lit area with five people sat around it. At first glance, they would seem to blend right in, but upon a more thorough observation, Poe noticed they were more guarded than most of the people inside this cramped space.

Sat in the farthest right corner of the table was a tall, stout man with a gut protruding over his belt. He wore a small sleeveless jacket that looked ridiculous on his frame. It was probably too small for Poe’s shoulders. Perhaps Paige or Zeeke would have fit into it better. Beside the large man was a Jawa sitting on top of stacked crates. His arms waved around energetically as some of his Jawaese made its way to Poe’s unfamiliar ears. Listening attentively was a woman in mechanics overalls. Her posture was slumped and her face marred by dark rings under her eyes –a blaster holstered at her thigh. She wasn’t unattractive, but sitting beside the much more poised and stiff looking woman dressed in purple, she was easily overlooked. The woman in purple and black was probably the princess. The scary, tall man with his right arm in a sling, casting a deformed shadow over the table, was probably her bodyguard. Though, Poe wondered what good he was to her right now considering his battered state. And as though he had sensed their presence, the man with the dark storm-filled eyes looked over at Poe, a grim line pressing his lips together until they turned near-white. Poe shuddered on reflex.

 “So, what now?” Paige asked.

Poe’s fingers smoothed over the data disk he had downloaded Leia’s data packet onto. A hesitancy in his actions as he squared his jaw and let out a breathy sigh. “I guess, now we talk to a princess.”

“Boy, tone down that confidence, why don’t you,” Zeeke jested.

“Are you certain that was the whole message?” Koa inquired in a hushed voice.

Calista’s fingers dipped and ran over the ridges and snaking twists of her newly braided hair, the umber ends reminding her a little too much of her aunt’s signature colour. With distaste, she tossed the heavy braid behind her, feeling it swing and tickle her lower back. “That was all it said,” she replied finally.

“It makes no sense,” Odhen grumbled, as was his usual manner of speaking Calista had discovered. “Why send us all the way out here to find your friend if his half of the message simply lead to co-ordinates in the middle of nowhere? There’s no star, no planet, no planetoid… nothing’s in that quadrant. Except black.”

Everyone turned to Mokk-Toh hoping he would provide them with more answers, but he had been silent ever since she had found him in that cave, lost and despondent. Calista feared that he wouldn’t ever truly recover from the news of Lenora’s death and that worried her. She had always suspected they shared a strong bond, maybe even one that proved to be of an intimate nature, but she had never witnessed more than kind words and trusting gazes shared between them while in their presence. And right now, all she had was speculation. That made her feel… conflicted. Calista was good at reading people, but not when it came to her family. And never when it came to Mokk-Toh. He was an impregnable fortress of secrets and silence. A statuesque sentry, ever on watch.

Mokk-Toh ignored their inquiring gazes, he was too preoccupied with staring at a group of strangers who had just walked into the stuffy space. It was for good reason too, because now those three strangers were walking towards them with purpose. Their leader, a man in a dusty brown jacket, caught Calista’s eye. He looked like a man with a mission. She couldn’t help but notice how kind his eyes were, even if his jaw was set tightly and his shoulders were squared in an intimidating manner.  

Calista’s gaze wandered down to the point of contact between Mokk-Toh’s less accurate right hand and his swords frayed hilt. She cleared her throat discretely and he eased up immediately. So did Koa. It seems their pendulum had found a new addition. Now they were a singular organism. A cluster of nerve endings fused together to form a synapse.

The man in the brown jacket kept his hands freely visible at his sides, his blaster clipped firmly in place by his holster. He wanted them to know he wasn’t a threat. Though, Calista also noticed that he was gravitating towards Koa, like she was the authority head at their table. She bit back a humorous smile as he stopped a meter short from Koa’s seat.

“Princess Calista of House Ordell?” he seemed unsure of his own voice, but he still kept his shoulders square.

Odhen hid his snigger behind a loud cough, sending a wink in Ton-Ton’s direction. It went unnoticed. Or so she thought until she saw the young kid with the ringlet curls hold up his finger towards his leader’s back to try and tell him something. The woman with the woolly hat pushed his hand down and muttered something at him with nervous eyes.

Koa cocked her head to the side, staring at the three strangers with an impressive poker face. She stayed quiet, deciding it would be more beneficial to see how things played out. For some reason, he took her silence for admission.

“The name’s Poe Dameron,” he offered as he pulled up a chair and joined their table without permission. “This my second mate Paige,” he pointed to the woman behind his left shoulder. “And this is Zeeke.” He pointed to the boy over his right. “General Leia Organa sent me… with this–“

He pulled out a data disk and slid it over the enamel textured table.

Odhen’s smile vanished as soon as he heard the man speak, his brows growing heavy again. Ton-Ton spoke to him, though not as loudly as his usual choice of expression. The boy with the ringlets –Zeeke– lifted his chin slightly at the sound of Jawaese. Calista wondered if he was familiar with the dialect.

Calista opened her mouth to say something when Poe spoke over her, “I’ve been sent here to bring you back with us… to our base.”

“Why should I trust anything you say?” Koa stared him down.

The smaller woman, Paige, gulped in place of Poe.

Poe ruffled his hair and rubbed his hand over his scruff growing just below his nose, “Look, princess, I’m just following orders. I was told you needed my help. Here I am.” There was a slight petulance to his tone that made Calista chuckle softly. Koa and Mokk-Toh didn’t find his tone of voice as amusing.

Zeeke bent side-ways towards Paige and whispered something into her ear. Suddenly her eyes went buggy as she turned her focus to Odhen, her mouth pried open by whatever it was Zeeke had told her. The burly pilot was made aware of the woman staring at him by the crude way in which Ton-Ton had jabbed at his resting palm. With a pained snarl, he retracted his hand and stood off the stool.

“I’m heading to the Somnambulist, gonna make sure she’s all fuelled up. If you see Maz, don’t tell her I’m here,” he said as he pulled Ton-Ton behind him in the red trolley.

Calista, Mokk-Toh and Koa all hummed in unison as they watched their pilot stride away. What ensued next was a series of rapid fired back and forth between Koa and Poe. Both of whom grew more and more annoyed by the others arrogance, impatience and reluctance to back down. Calista had tuned them out as she stared at the data disk under Poe’s palm. It looked to be the same make as the ones she and Mokk-Toh had been entrusted with. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Calista tried to speak for a second time, but it was Mokk-Toh who spoke this time, “We need to leave.”

“Do you sense something?” Calista asked in their native tongue.

Mokk-Toh gave a rigid nod as he trained his eyes up, not to the ceiling, but beyond. His good arm reaching to massage the tender flesh of his formerly dislocated left shoulder. “Now,” he advised.

A crackling noise moved through the structure, a tingle lining every metal structure. Zeeke pinched his muscles to stop the cramp that had been triggered in his two fingers bending unnaturally.

“What was that?” Paige asked.

“It felt like a pulse,” Poe replied.  

“We’re too late…” Mokk-Toh said.

 Calista scurried after the panicked Mokk-Toh as he rushed out of the cantina and made his way to the spot where the Somnambulist was parked. Koa and Poe were right on their heels, the two of them still locked in a heated battle of words.

“I must insist you and your people return with me, you’ll be safer there,” he argued.

“No place is safe in the galaxy right now,” she bit back.

He sighed, “Look, you’re my mission and I always complete my mission.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed then.”

Without warning, a gust of strong winds blew through a brush of dense trees and then a hot, blinding flash of light devoured a sector of the forest and left nothing behind but the thrum of the earth quaking beneath their feet and ash where trees used to be.

“By the stars… Poe,” Paige tugged on his brown jacket. “Isn’t that where…”

Poe forced his spit down with a rough bob of his Adam’s apple, “The Rose One…”

Calista’s eyes narrowed when she felt Mokk-Toh’s grip grow stone cold and then let go of her wrist. He unfastened the knot that held his sling in place and his bones groaned and popped in agony as he stretched it free. Dark bruises and fresh cuts marring his skin.

He unsheathed his sword and his voice turned dark, “He’s here.”

Automatically, she reached for her blasters handle.

 “Who?” Zeeke turned to them, worried and afraid –though valiantly keeping his wits about him.

Mokk-Toh’s glazed over, “Versengen.”

Then, as if on cue, an ugly, droning ship glided through the air and set itself down a few paces in front of them. The doors peeled back and out of the darkness, the bounty hunter emerged.

“I told you, I’d find you.” the masked hunter’s voice was distorted. “And look,” he tilted his head as far as his restrictive armour would let him. “You’ve got friends.” His laugh sounded like someone choking on marbles. “Hello… Calista. You look so much like your father…”

My father? She wondered. What does he have to do with any of this?

Shivers prickled at her tired flesh as another ripple of unnerving laughter filled the air. Calista’s stomach grew tight and her chest felt hollow when the burning odours in the air filled her lungs. There it was again… despair.

 To be continued...

Tags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees@carolinamalo53 @everything-intertwined

#poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron imagine #poe x ofc #poe x calista #sw tfa #sw tlj #oricignal characters #star wars imagine

[phoenixisstrange]

The Best Day Forever Chapter 1 (Edited)

But I am wrong. It begins with me, in a nice suburban house doing my own thing going about my day. I guess I live here? I don't know who I live with or if I live alone but I encounter neighbors and friends (I don't remember specific interactions). I don’t even know how I got this beautiful house OR what town it’s in. It’s like someone created me and my life, peppered in some aspects of my personality and memory and dropped me into it. So I wake up in my? bed. 

I wake up, make myself breakfast, and acquaint myself with my neighborhood. As if I haven’t lived here for quite some time-- judging off of the bills I have sitting on the counter waiting to be paid. I open the front door. It’s a big wooden door with a little window that has decorative iron bars encasing it. Whoever designed this house did a damn nice job. I admire my front door as if I’ve never seen it before. As I step out onto my front porch I am greeted by a symphony of wildlife and a beautiful panorama of the forest. This was an intentional design point of the house. The way the forest sits inside of the frame of my porch is so perfect that it must be deliberate. The facade of my house faces a dense forest but I do have neighbors on either side of my property. 

To the left I see a mother herding her 3 kids into her minivan, well trying at least. One of the kids is running around screaming; wearing only one flip flop on. The other kid has dropped her bookbag on the ground. The third sits strapped into the car quietly. “Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!” the mom corrals her child into the van. 

I chuckle and breathe in the crisp morning air as it mingles with the scent of my piping hot coffee. The house to the right is a bit smaller and nobody seems to be home. After I finish my coffee, I go back inside and look at my schedule. It’s my day off.

I text my girls, Iz and Cree to see what they’re up to. I guess they also live in the area. Whatever the area is. The girls arrive and we set up camp in my warmly-lit living room. A low-budget Netflix horror movie plays in the background as we sip our Rosé.

 “So how’s Carter?” I ask Iz.

 “He’s good, he’s interviewing for a job at a new dealership as a sales manager”

“Good for him, I wish him luck in all his managerial endeavors” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Phoenix---How’s your love life??” She did it. She asked the dreaded question.

“Heh, funny you should ask… You would probably have an easier time finding a human being on Mars than I would finding a lover. ” Wow, I’ve actually lost count of how many times I’ve answered that. Me? Jaded? Never. Just realistic. I have too much going on to focus on finding someone right now. That’s what I tell myself at night when the loneliness hits. 

“Unfortunately my lover either doesn’t exist or doesn’t want me.” I add. You can practically see my dignity leaving the room. 

“Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave alone...” Cree-- who appears to be catatonic on the couch-- mutters from beneath a blanket. 

“Facts” Iz and I say in unison.

We finish a bottle of wine and cook some ramen. I never eat Ramen, I can’t stand it. But Iz and Cree love it so I guess that’s why my cabinets are stacked with the stuff. Either that or I am preparing for the inevitable collapse of our organized society. In that case, I know for a fact that I won’t go hungry. There’s so many packets of chicken flavored instant noodles hiding in my cabinets that I could feed a tribe in the post apocalyptic world.

The fragrance of the salty noodles dances with the incense that burns in the living room. The sound of a woman being possessed by the devil blares from the tv speakers.

“Haven’t we watched this movie already?” Iz clearly isn’t into it. “Probably, but all Netflix horror movies are the same. They usually end up as white noise anyway.” 

“I like it.” Cree chimes in

“If Cree thinks it’s a good movie, then obviously it’s a good movie Iz.” Sarcasm. 

“Cree said Suicide Squad was her favorite movie. She cannot be trusted to judge a good movie!” 

“Everyone thought that movie was so bad but y’all just don’t appreciate good art.” Cree stands firmly by her decision.

The movie concludes with the predictable ending where the antagonist--who has succumbed to demonic possession-- is cleansed of evil through a dramatic exorcism. The entire house that the movie is set in is destroyed. This forces the traumatized family to move out of the beautiful home they recently purchased. The movie ends on a cliff-hanger where a new family moves into the very house--which has now been repaired--in hopes to start a life. Boring.

The girls leave at about 11 pm. I take a quick shower and pour myself a glass of seltzer. Nights like this are ideal for stargazing. Not a cloud in the sky and cool enough to have the windows open in the house. Apparently, I missed my mark. I open my door to a rather jarring sight. Expecting the usual chirping of the cicadas and a star speckled sky; I am met with a rising sun. The sky is not an 11 pm sky it’s a 6 am sky. I’m confused and kind of scared. My mind starts to race. How drunk did we get last night? It was just a few glasses of wine not enough to black out the entire fucking night. I text Cree and Iz. No response. I figure they’re sleeping. 

My phone says 5:47 am on Saturday, 7/23. My day off is Saturday, which would be the 23rd. Saturday was yesterday. I turn on the TV to verify the date and News 12 confirms my fear of today’s date, 7/23. The annual family cookout is being held tomorrow at the park. 4 pm sharp, don’t miss it! Did I skip work yesterday? No way, I would’ve gotten a call. My head is spinning at this point and I decide to lay down for a bit.

The sound of the news 12 anchorwoman echoes in my head. “This weekend is going to be a hot one. Anyone planning on traveling west towards the coast should take care to leave a little bit early because of heavy delays along all major highways.” 

I drift in and out of consciousness and finally give up. I’ve watched the sun rise through the skylight that is fixed above the couch. That big ball of fire has climbed straight into the center of the skylight. The big ball of fire is blinding me. The time is 8:30 according to my phone. I barely slept a wink. My mind was too busy trying to figure out if I was going batshit or if I was actually trapped in a temporal loop. I mean, that would be cool because then that would mean that time loops do exist but not cool because of the fact that I would be caught in one by myself. 

My phone buzzes to life with a message from Iz. “What are you talking about? Ladies night didn’t happen hunny.” I’m wigged. 

“Must’ve dreamt it! We need a night soon, hunnies.” I reply. 

“Ok Phoenix… This is the sitch, yesterday was Friday. You accidentally skipped work and today is Saturday. Wine night was just a dream because you have been missing Cree and Iz lately…” I am rambling to myself in the dark. Yes, that will spare my sanity. I drag myself off the couch since sleep isn’t happening. I step outside at around 9. Once again, the forest is roaring with life and so is the mother next door… 

“Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!”…. I need to leave.

I go to the store and begin piling snacks and random food items into my cart. It’s been a while since I’ve been food shopping so this is OK. 

“Ice cream and wine. Check.” I say to myself. Drink myself out of the loop. Yeah, that’ll work. I see this really cute girl staring intently at a box of Gushers. For a second, it’s as if my world isn’t imploding on itself and I’m just at the store looking at a beautiful girl I’d like to know. For some reason, she’s engrossed by these artificially flavored fruit snacks. It looks as if she’s deep in thought, something is on her mind so she is occupying the time with food shopping. She’s about my height; she’s got long and silky chocolate brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun. I realize that I’m staring at her with as much focus as she is at those Gushers. She feels my eyes and returns to reality, she glances at me. A subtle smirk spreads across her face as she looks me and my wine bottles up and down.

“The bigger the bottle the bigger the problem huh?” She jokes. 

“No bottle will solve this problem but at least it’ll make me forget about it.”

 She chuckles and walks away. I buy my wine bottles and go home to forget what day it is. 

Listen, I won’t lie, I like to party. I love day drinking. But cracking open a fresh bottle of wine the size of a bowling pin at 10 am by myself after realizing I may never live to see tomorrow is new for me. I can’t say I hate it. I sit on the couch. The News 12 anchor-bitch is still blabbering about the family cookout-- that is supposed to take place tomorrow-- too bad. I drunkenly type away on my laptop. Scouring the darkest corners of the internet to find out anything about time loops that exist outside of science fiction. Turns out, not many people who find themselves in my situation take to Reddit to write about it... I take notes from the Twilight Zone subreddit because at this point I’m desperate for answers. My quest for information bears no fruit. 

I did learn that a time loop is different from a causal loop, which would occur because of a previous event. My situation however, is anomalous and is unrelated to anything as far as I know. I’ve started a fresh note on my laptop titled “The Best Day Forever! :)).” This is where I dump everything I know about the situation. 

So far, I know that this loop resets but I don’t know the interval or the trigger. Things that I interact with seems to stay the same with the exception of people, they don’t remember our interactions. The coffee I made the first go around was still in the pot when I went for coffee round 2. People and things outside of my control reset as if they’re characters in a video game who have a script and a path. I begin thinking, dangerous thinking. 

“Why is this happening? Why to me?” I ask aloud as if someone is going to answer me. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if I got an answer from some omniscient voice. 

“What is the point of all of this?” I ask out loud again. Then I begin to think of everything I had done leading up to the moment I woke up on the morning of July 23rd the first time. My memory is extremely fogged, almost non-existent. I’m struggling to produce even the vaguest memory of anything that happened before Saturday. Was it raining yesterday? Did I even leave my house yesterday? I don't know. 

Come to think of it I don't remember much of anything before Saturday. I don’t know how I got this house. I don't know who Iz and Cree are except that we’re friends and have wine nights pretty often--though they have been less frequent for some reason. I don’t know Carter…But I do. 

It’s as if these memories were fabricated. I remember the facts. I, Phoenix, own this house in this pacific northwestern town and I am a barista at a local coffee shop. I moved to this town after graduating-- in hopes to pursue my dream of opening my own shop and building a house in the forest. Anything beyond that is smudged. I can make out the memory if I hyper-focus. But even then it’s just the blueprint of a life, details are scarce. I’m spiraling, existential crisis mode has initiated and now I’m just stressed out and drunk at 1 in the afternoon. I need air.

 I step outside and check my phone. The time is exactly 1:27 pm and a blue Subaru drives down my road with a big old husky hanging out the window living his best life. I start down the road towards the forest.

#chapter 1 #The Best Day Forever #fiction #science fiction #writing #My writing #short story #storytelling #beginner #writeblr #wip #work in progress #work #books

[limitededitionsanderssidesblog]

Speech Impediment - Chapter 9

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, platonic dlamp

Summary: It’s December 23rd. Patton’s flying out to visit his family in Illinois that evening, Roman’s driving upstate to see his, Logan is spending Christmas with his family in the city, and Dexter goes out to get tea. They all celebrate their last time together until New Years giving gifts and watching Christmas movies. However, one question is on Dexter’s mind: Why isn’t Virgil visiting his?

AO3 - Here

Chapter One Previous Next

It was getting harder to get out of bed these days. What with class being out for the next three weeks finally allowing him to sleep in as, and the freezing cold hell that awaited him outside the thick blankets. But alas, he had to get up. 

Moving as fast as he could to avoid the cold as much as he could, Dexter slipped out of bed and went to the shower and turned the faucet on the hottest setting, so it would be warm when he got in, ran back into the room and grabbed a change of clothes, then practically threw himself under the waterfall of scalding heat. The soles of his feet stung as they touched both the chill bottom of the tub and the boiling water running past them. Dexter shifted around to try to distribute the pain, but was restricted from moving too far away from the shower’s stream in order to avoid the icy air. After a few minutes the room warmed up and Dexter was able sit down and enjoy his shower. Was he the only one who liked to sit down when showering? Maybe that was another item to add to the list of why he’s abnormal.

Dexter quickly stopped that thought. The others would be angry if they knew he was thinking like that. They were such a help in his battle with self deprecation that he didn’t even know he was fighting. When you’ve been called names and told that you’re a bad person your entire life it’s hard to notice when you’re being self deprecating, because you’re so used to it that it becomes the truth in your head. But what the others, Patton and Logan especially, have taught him is that people’s opinion of you doesn’t always translate to reality. So, what Dexter has decided to do to help those thoughts is to ‘meditate’ on them in a way. Dexter’s had enough of therapists to last a lifetime, but he does agree with some of their therapy, so he just uses an app.

Finding it easier to relax in the shower, Dexter simply listens to a voice direct him whilst nature sounds a played. There are breathing exercises, thinking exercises, and much more that helps him with tuning down his negative thinking. Logan was the one who downloaded this app on his phone and set up an account for him. Apparently he had spent a few hours looking through different types of self-help apps until he decided this one was the best for Dexter. Dexter would still get those intrusive thoughts, and sometimes he wasn’t able to talk himself out of his negative thinking easily, but it really did help him. The only important thing was that he was trying to get better.

After about fifteen minutes in the shower, about three of them spent complaining about having to leave; Dexter shut off the water and quickly swiped his towel of the rack and dried off. Stepping out of the tub he wrapped the towel around his waist and reached into his drawer to grab his blow dryer. Usually Dexter liked to air dry his hair, but he didn’t feel like dying of hypothermia today. Funny thing is that after drying his hair, Dexter also dried his skin with the dryer just to warm up a little before getting dressed. Call him weird, he was finally embracing it as a good thing.

This outfit today consisted of a pair of black slacks, a dark grey, long-sleeve button up, and the yellow pair of gloves from his Halloween costume, since they were the only gloves he owned and looked quite dashing on him if he did say so himself. 

Cracking the tiny window open and turning on the fan, Dee shut the bathroom door behind him and went back into him room. Patton was away having a breakfast date with Logan, so he had the room to himself for the next few hours.

First things first, Dexter decided to feed Dee Dee. Since corn snakes only had to eat once or twice a week, he had reserved feeding day to Monday, which was today. Now, if you were a luck snake owner, your snake would eat whatever you gave them. Dee Dee, however, was a brat. He loved her, but she was a brat. Dee Dee would eat only if the frozen mouse was warmed in the microwave, dipped in blood, and held in front of her face; she wouldn’t go anywhere near crickets. It was a pain to feed her, but it had to be done.

After that was settled and taken care of, he decided to venture out in the cold and get some tea at his favorite shop, maybe get some work done there as well. The five of them weren’t supposed to meet until noon to have their gift exchange and Christmas party, which was being held in Roman and Virgil’s dorm this time, so he still had a little more time to himself.

Walking to his side of the closet, Dexter pulled out a thick, black peacoat and a checkered scarf to keep warm. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he headed down to the parking lot and got in his bug. The day after Dexter had got stuck out in the cold with his car parked outside the reptile shop, Both Logan and Patton had offered to go jump start it and bring it back for him, as both wanted him to stay in bed and not push himself. Those two really were almost like a mother and father to him.

Plugging his aux cord into his phone, Dee listened to Melanie Martinez and Billie Eilish on his way to the coffee shop, both of them queens to him. The ride was quick as there was no traffic on the road, yet slow as he was trying not to slide on black ice. He pulled up into an easy parking space right outside the front, next to a handicap spot.

Walking to the shop Dexter was meant with the comforting warmth of the building’s heaters, and his nose was invaded by the sweet and succulent smell of coffee and honey. The line to the counter was not that long, only two people ahead of him, a male and a female. The female was currently ordering a peppermint latte from the teenager behind the register. The male after him, and before Dexter, was, for some reason, wearing sunglasses and scrolling through his phone. Once the woman left, the man walked up with a confidence that could only possibly be matched by Roman. And in a clear, smooth, but upbeat voice ordered a caramel cappuccino with a dash of cinnamon and a drizzle of chocolate. Once he had his order written down and paid for, he turned around to take a seat. Their eyes met for a brief moment as he went by, Dexter took note of the color of his eyes, dark cocoa.  

A moment passed without him noticing, the annoyed barista had to call him in question to bring him back to the present. 

“Oh not sorry,” Dexter apologized, “May I not have a small green tea with a bit of sugar?” 

The barista, Melissa according to her name tag, looked thoroughly annoyed with the way he was speaking to her, but said nothing to his face, grumbling as she wrote down the order on the cup. 

“Name?” She asked.

“Not Dexter.”

The teen raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, telling him to sit and wait for his drink, as if he was a small child who needed help to do anything. Dexter was used to this kind of treatment, that’s why he tried his best to limit talking to strangers s much as he could whenever he went out. 

Turning back to the tables and booths Dexter started for his and his friends’ favorite spot, only to find that it was occupied by the mysterious man who was in line before him. Dexter didn’t want to be rude and ask him to move to a new booth, but he also really wanted to sit there. So, trying his absolute best not to look like a total creep, Dee walked to the booth directly next to the usual one, and sat in the closest seat to it, less than a foot away from the other person. This felt awkward on so many levels, he wanted nothing more than to quickly get his drink and run away from this place and burn this awkward moment from his memory permanently.

“Well I’m honored that you think I’m so memorable, I tend to have that affect.” The man spoke from behind him, making Dexter yelp and jump back a little. Whipping around in his seat, Dexter realized that the stranger was turned towards him as well.

“Yes- I mean, uh, I was talking about you, I wasn’t thinking of something else and- and I-” What the fuck am I doing? I look like an idiot! Stop rambling! 

Dexter tried desperately to think of a coherent excuse, but instead just shout out words vomit of pure awkwardness and regret. Eventually he was able to shut up, but only when he forcibly slapped his hand over his own mouth. However the other didn’t seem to mind his dumb talking, grinning at him the entire time.

“Not sorry, I wasn’t thinking out loud.” Dexter explained, looking down at his pants.

“So sweat girl, no hard feelings.” He told him, “I like the way you talk.”

“Huh?” Dexter voiced, taken aback, “But I don’t speak wrong. I’m not hard to understand.”

“Nah, it’s adorable, like it’s opposite day on repeat for you.” Dexter screamed him his head. What the hell was happening?!

“Oh, uh, no thank you...” He murmured shyly.

“No problem,” He smiled honestly. A name was called from the front, he got up. “Well, hope to see you again...” He lingered on the last word, asking for a name.

“Dexter.” 

His eyes lit up.

“Remy.” 

He walked away, grabbing his drink, leaving the store with a quick wave. Dexter didn’t wave back.

...

The sound of Jim Carry's The Grinch Who Stole Christmas played in the background. They sat around a video of a fire in a fireplace on a tablet in the center of the room. Patton had made all of them a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows and snickerdoodles. Before they were to give each other their main gift, they had decided to play some Christmas games. They played Life, Candy Land, and, currently, Secret Santa.

“I had you Virgil,” Logan began, “So I thought it was appropriate to get you a gift card for some audible books.”

“Wow that’s- alright I guess.” Virgil said, taking the card into his hands and acting as if it were nothing special.

“And I had you Logan, so I wrote a story about you helping Sherlock in his greatest mystery yet.” Roman said with glee, handing his cell phone over to the motherly nerd.

“This is a self insert on Wattpad.”

“Yep!” Roman said in excitement, “Do you love it?”

“It is adequate I suppose.” Cue Roman becoming offensive.

“Well I got Dexter,” Patton said with cheer, bringing out a small gift bag, “So I made you and Dee Dee matching sweaters!”

Looking looked into the bad with interest and pulled out a large black, orange, and yellow stripped sweater, with a mini matching tube sweater. It was the cutest thing he ever did see.

“My goodness, I hate it!” Dexter said with a slight squeal of excitement. “I’m sure Dee Dee will hate it to!” As if she was waiting for her cue, Dee Dee slivered out of Dexter’s sleeve, winding her little noodle body around his hand. The others looked on in surprise.

“You brought Dee Dee here?” Virgil questioned.

“Of course not, this’ll be the last time she’ll be able to see any of you for two weeks and she gets attached easily. Right, Dee Dee?” The small corn snake stuck out her tongue and booped her snoot against his thumb. Everyone ‘awe’d at her cuteness. “Here, I didn’t get Roman.” 

Roman took the wrapped gift from Dexter’s outstretched hands, and tore it open. Underneath the paper was a box, wow. Opening the box, Roman reached it and pulled out two items, an adult coloring book and a package of over fifty different colored pencils.

“Ah, thanks ‘Fibbiler’ On the Roof.”

“You’re not welcome.”

And that left only Virgil to give his gift.

“Sorry I uh- just got you this card.” He murmured, practically throwing the card at Patton. Dexter didn’t know what the card said, but it must have been interesting because at first Patton looked concerned, then brilliantly happy.

“Aha, I love it!” 

“Really?” Virgil asked for confirmation. Patton nodded his head eagerly.

Thus their party games and gift exchange had ended and they all settled down to continue watching the movie. It was quarter to three now, Patton’s plane took off at five and he’d have to leave in an hour. Roman’s would start his two hour drive to his parents’ house at about the same time. Once they’d all leave Logan decided that he too would head to his parents house to stay the week. Dexter sat there in his thoughts, ignoring the movie, wondering what he’d do alone for the remaining time until everyone was back.

Dexter was used to solitude; it’s all he’s ever known for the majority of his life, but for some reason now he couldn’t stand the thought of it. He had gotten so used to being around his friends that the thought of them separating for even a little bit felt suffocating. 

Then a question popped into his head. What about Virgil? He wasn’t visiting any family over the break, just like him, the emo would be stuck in the dorms until everyone got back. Which brought another question to his head:

Why wasn’t Virgil visiting his family?

.

.

Here’s another chapter, love ya’ll. (Should I have a romantic or platonic relationship between Dexter and Remy?)

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[kalimarsdreamlog]

Dream 170: The Dragon Boss

This one has been almost completely rewritten since I had it over a year ago. Nothing major though, just making it easier to read, putting things in chronological order, and taking out the rambling. 

Like many books, I'll start this one off with the map. Yes, I was so immersed in the dream for so long in-dream time that I knew the lay of the land. It was quite large. The map is not to scale. The seas were much bigger.

The dream was set in a kind of medieval game. Link was in it, but she preferred female pronouns. She wasn't Linkle, just normal Link. It seemed normal enough in the dream, especially since I was Link some of the time. (Yay dream PoV-switching!)

The story revolved around a few characters. For a lot of it I was the last royalty of the fairies, orphaned at a young age. My name was Valeret. While the game mostly took aspects from an open-world Legend of Zelda, there were some Lord of the Rings things scattered in to the side. As Valeret, I was friends with Gandalf. Early on in the dream I went missing. I was actually hiding out in the Dark Forest from Sauron, but Link and Gandalf didn't know that. They were so desperate to find me that they even asked the all-seeing eye himself. Of course, I was hidden from view with the help of a friendly bear. So that didn't work.

And so, Link went exploring the areas between the final boss room and the Dusty Plains we called home to find me. There was no stamina wheel to worry about, and Link could use both the paraglider and the in-dream equivalent to loftwings, which in this dream was a (relatively) small dragon. She could also use the whip from Skyward Sword to grab onto distant things, which was useful for jumping from her dragon-loftwing to the towers surrounding the Wild Plateau. Said towers were mysteriously cluttered with stamina fruits despite Link not having a stamina wheel. Little did I know this was a sign for later.

Under the Plateau were hidden caves. It was a maze under there, but not only did you have to be careful not to get lost, but you basically had to play The Floor is Lava. Why? Because the floors were not dry, and the tide pools were connected to the Electrified Sea. Understandably, touching it meant instant death. Link jumped off her dragon-loftwing and glided into one of the caves. Unfortunately, she misjudged her landing and fell in the water, instantly turning into a spirit.

As a spirit she went to a ghosty waiting room type of deal. Suddenly I was Valeret again, (rather than just passively watching Link) also in the waiting room of spirits. It was cold. I remember not being able to get warm and assuming it was part of being dead. Well, now that I was dead there was no reason to hide from Sauron, and once Link informed me that she and Gandalf were looking for me I realized the wizard could get us out of here and revive us. I used fairy magic to send up a beacon asking for his help. He practically teleported us home in his hurry to get us somewhere safe.

Home was kind of odd, but beggars can't be choosers. It's rare to have a home to go back to in LoZ adventures. In the middle of the Dusty Plains was a runway used for landing biplanes, the other quick way to travel across the map. I landed a couple throughout the dream, but I don't remember what I was flying them for or when. Next to the runway were these tube-rooms not unlike tube hotels you can find at some airports. There was enough room for the bare essentials, like a place to sleep and get changed, but that was about it. Still, it was home.

Time passed and we progressed through the game until we were finally ready for the final boss. The final boss was a great big fire dragon that looked like Smaug, and was about as powerful as Smaug too. Basically, she was Smaug but female. According to the lore of the game, only Valeret could kill "Smaug." Link could help wear her down, but Valeret had to land the final blow, otherwise the fight would just start over.

We approached the boss room. There was an Emblem on a tower above the entryway. A Fire Emblem, to be precise, containing the power of "Smaug." As soon as we stepped foot on the land containing the boss room, the Emblem flared, and "Smaug" burst from the tower on top of the boss room. Link jumped back on her dragon-loftwing to prevent the boss from flying to our home and setting it ablaze, trying to lead her back to the boss room where the fight could take place. While she did that I was stuck trying to get to the boss room on foot, and, lo and behold, Valeret had a stamina wheel. "Smaug" landed in the field next to the path, lighting the field on fire. Every time I would slow down to let my stamina wheel refill (because of course there were no stamina fruits here) she would breathe fire in my direction, and I'd have to start running again. Link would then swoop in to distract her so I could have a little time to recover.

At last I made it to the boss room. Link flew in after me with "Smaug" flying in after her, and the fight was on.

The fight itself felt long and hard, but that was probably because I was physically going through the motions of the fight without using a controller. I was in the game after all. Had I been playing the game from the outside, I would be pretty disappointed if that was the final boss of the game. "Smaug" would fly around the edges of the circular boss room. Trying to cut her off from ahead would lead to getting incinerated via fire breath, but trying to catch up to her from behind was impossible. Somehow you had to cut her off from the side and do damage that way. After enough damage was dealt she'd slow down and we could latch onto the sides of her neck. Due to bad programming she'd get stuck in a stun loop where she couldn't attack us. After getting stunned a certain number of times she'd fall to he ground, where Valeret could end the fight with a killing blow.

When I finally landed the final blow the boss flew up, up out of the tower on top of the boss room. To escape her fate, to light our home on fire, I don't know, because she didn't get far. Her fiery power defeated, the Fire Emblem turned to one of ice, freezing her in the air, as was the only true way to defeat her.

And so ends part one of the dream. And so also ends the rewritten part of the dream, for I am tired and have other dreams to post.

In part two, I got to be the boss dragon.

After being defeated I had turned over a new leaf due to the efforts of a very nice Valeret, who hadn't enjoyed all the fighting. Now I considered the people living across the electrocuted ocean from my boss room to be my friends, because they made me see reason that destruction wasn't the way.

It turns out the reason they needed to defeat me was that when the emblem over my boss room was fire, it scorched the lands around their home and made them unlivable. The ocean would sometimes flood the area too and electrocute anything in its path. When the emblem was ice the ocean froze, protecting them from it, and the formerly scorched lands were able to thrive. The only way to change the emblem to ice was to defeat me, which stopping my destruction had been a nice bonus.

Well.

People from the opposite direction of those lands needed the emblem to be fire for their water sports. Trivial, but it was all they cared about. They tried to take me under their proverbial wing and convince me to turn the emblem back to fire. I didn't know my friends' lands revolved around the ice emblem, so I agreed because these other people were annoying and I wanted them to leave me alone.

I returned home to my boss room and beyond to the lands of my new friends only to discover the havoc that the fire emblem had wrought. I was still weak enough to be considered defeated if I got hurt somehow, so I dove into the ground to defeat myself and turn the emblem back to ice.

As expected, the other people didn't like that, so they gave me something to strengthen me against my will. With that I was powerful again, and the emblem changed back to fire. I was so angry that I went back to the lands of the people obsessed with their sports and was intent on destroying it. Screw turning over a new leaf—I was doing this for my friends, and I was powerful enough to do it.

Turns out the Mechanical Sea between my boss room and the lands of the other people was treacherous, full of great machines with missiles and lasers. I flew higher to avoid them, but ran into guardians from Breath of the Wild. I had three of them focusing their lasers on me at once, and no matter how powerful I was I didn't want to see the consequences of that. I went back to my boss room and waited for my friends to come defeat me once again.

Table of Contents

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[benjikarofsky]

Just the Three of Us || Para

WHO: Benji Karofsky (@benjikarofsky), Franco Del Rio (@southsidefranco), and Topher Pierce (@topherxpierce​).

WHERE: Benji’s apartment

WHEN: 8th June 2019 (backdated)

NOTES: In need of a way to finally cope with all the tragedies that had been bestowed on him in the last couple of weeks, Benji decides to recover in the best way he knows: getting wine drunk with his fiancé and his boyfriend. However, in true Tophjico fashion, a few drinking games quickly dissolves into something more dramatic.

TRIGGERS: Polygamous themes

BOLD: Benji

ITALIC: Topher

NORMAL: Franco

WORD COUNT: 8692

Benji came back into the house, a few bottles of wine in a reusable grocery bag. He had really been trying to pick more creative ways of dealing with this giant tragedy that had been bestowed upon him, but after his fight with Kurt and his argument with Marley added more fuel to the fire, he had run out of other ways to cope. He needed to get a little drunk. And he needed to do it with the two people he loved. 

 “Guys? I’m back from the store,” he called, sitting down on the sofa slowly in an attempt not to hurt his bruised stomach further. “Can someone grab cups and someone else pick a show?”

"I call picking a show!" Topher answered from his room as he finished writing up a short story and made way for the living room. "I know you specified shit TV in the text, but does Brooklyn Nine-Nine sound alright? If not, then I imagine that we can find some ridiculous reality show to make fun of or just have as background noise. Whatever we want to call it," he rattled off once he'd gotten close to the coffee table and picked up the remote. 

 The former Serpent took a seat in his favorite chair and allowed himself a few moments to completely relax. Hopefully, things would go well or as well as they could go with everything considered. "All in favor of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, say aye. Those opposed, say nay and list the show of your choice."

Franco had been sitting in his bedroom thinking about the last few days. In a perfect world, the three of them could live in harmony. In his perfect world, he would have used the heroin hidden in one of his drawers and gone and pretended it was OK but that's not how this was going to work and he knew it. 

He sighed as he was called, grabbed the beer he'd been drinking, and walked to the lounge, "Brooklyn 99 is fine" he said, taking a seat in an armchair and swinging his legs over the side, "I'll watch whatever. I'm mainly here for the drinks anyway" he said, a little bit quieter then normal. This was the first time he'd be spending a night in with whatever this relationship was, and he was concerned.

"Aye," Benji responded, "I know you're the odd man out, Toph, so B99 definitely works for me." He got one bottle of wine out of the bag and set it on the coffee table, then got up to grab cups and a wine opener. "Franc, since you didn't pick a show, cups were technically your job, Baby," he teased as he sat back down, his mind a bit too preoccupied to notice how his fiancé was feeling. 

He poured himself a glass of wine, then poured one for Franco as well. He downed his glass and started to refill it as he turned to his best friend. "Toph, you sure you don't want any? I definitely bought enough."

"Thank you both," Topher simply responded as he got the show started up. His gaze flicked between Benji and Franco for a few moments as uneasiness settled in once more. Sure, he'd been in relationships before, but those had been in attempts to play straight. Plus, he may have been on board with the idea from the get go, yet that did nothing to eliminate the feeling that he was on uncharted territory. So, the 18 year old let his attention drift to the TV and Brooklyn 99. 

Then Benji's voice brought him right back and he gave a light wave of dismissal. "Thank you very much Ben, but I'm fine. Besides, I'd rather not discover what effect wine has on me. If beer turns me into a flirty drunk, who knows what the hell wine will do?"

Franco took the glass of wine of the table and drank it in two quick gulps, bringing the glass back down and pushing it over to Benji, "Then  drink beer" he said, raising an eyebrow at Topher, "Being sober is going to get boring real quick" he said. He fidgeted with his hands and stared at the television, "Maybe if we call play a drinking game or something, get to know each other better?"

"You can do whatever you want, Toph. Don't feel pressured," Benji stressed, refilling Franco's glass and sliding back over to him. He downed one more glass himself, refilled it, then leaned back, content that that was enough for him to get a buzz. With two glasses down, he was ready to take smaller sips throughout the night just to keep himself tipsy--he had already promised Topher that he wouldn't get too sloppy. "Drinking game sounds fun, what do you say, Toph? You can drink water or soda or something but still play?"

"Yeah, let me get a Pepsi and we can get the fun started," Topher answered as he stood up in order to head for the kitchen. On one hand, maybe Franco had a point about how being sober would end up boring? On the other, he had more than enough combined first and second hand experience with drinking to immediately put him off of it. "Maybe later in the night, I don't know," he remarked over his shoulder as he grabbed a bottle of Pepsi from the fridge then opened it as he headed back for the living room. "But what drinking game shall we be playing tonight, gents? There's a whole wide world of them."

Franco laughed and shook his head, "Well, I'm not going to get to know you playing Ring of Fire am I?" he said. His mood was confusing for even him but he knew he had to bite his tongue and try this, "Never have I ever.... We get to find out some real interesting things about each other".

Benji fake gagged at the word 'Pepsi'. "You're lucky I love you, otherwise I wouldn't even let you keep that in the house, Toph," he said casually, stretching out on the sofa since everyone else had opted for chairs. At the mention of 'Never Have I Ever', he clapped his hands. "Hell yeah! If you've done it, one sip. If you're the only one who's done it, three sips. That's how we play on campus." He paused to think, then continued, "I'll go first: Never Have I Ever kissed a girl."

Topher jokingly flipped Benji off as he fired back, "You and I both know I don't have the fanciest palate around. But you're right, I'm so damn lucky to have your love in my life." Then when the question hit his ears, he opened the Pepsi and took a sip of it. "Real quick disclaimer, it was back in high school and I was trying to play straight back then."

Franco rolled his eyes and took a sip of his wine, "Of course I have kissed a girl.... Not the first party I've been at guys" he said looking to the floor and clearing his throat, "Never have I ever had sex with a girl" and he smiled, he'd been close with an old friend  but it just never happened.

Benji laughed, giving a small smile. "Platinum Star Gay, thank you. Not even close." He set his cup down on the table, then turned to Toph, both to see his reaction and to hear what his first 'Never Have I Ever' would be.

"Yeah, no." Topher tapped the armrest of his chair as he considered his question for a few moments then a Cheshire Cat grin crossed his features. "Never have I ever given a stranger a fake phone number," and with that, he took a sip of Pepsi.

Franco watched Topher drink and raised an eyebrow, "Better not have been me" he warned, a half joke to his tone before he drunk his own drink and nodded, "Some girls can be crazy".

Benji took a large gulp of his drink, then laughed. "That one I've definitely done a million times. The joys of being the 'type' of every creepy gay from here to Greendale." He took another sip for good measure, then gave his next prompt. "Never Have I Ever played a sport. A traditional one, I guess. Dance, Krav, and Free-Running aren't like... sports your whole team goes to championships for. Well, you kinda do for dance. But it's different." He could tell by the rambling that he was already getting tipsy. Maybe two cups to start was a little too much. ...Had he eaten today?

"I don't recall giving you a fake phone number. But I've definitely given one to around five girls and three guys," Topher addressed Franco then gave his Pepsi another sip when Benji's question got his attention. "Soccer and ice hockey. Dance too. Band if you count that," he rattled off then took a moment to set his Pepsi down and lightly stretch. He didn't want to fall asleep too soon and bring the night to an early end, plus he just generally wanted to move around a bit.

Franco drank his drink and nodded, "Boxing. Always has been. Used to box all the time" he explained. He thought for a moment about his next one, so many good ones bringing back memories he'd rather forget, "Never have I ever smoked weed" he asked, downing the rest of his drink and watching the other two.

Benji hesitated, but then took a gulp of wine, already a little too tipsy to better pace himself. "I've never smoked weed, but I've definitely... y'know, partook," he started to laugh at himself and his odd wording, then took a sip again, not remembering if he already had. "But only once. And never again."

Topher gave a light chuckle as he shook his head. "Never have and never will," he answered then gave his next question a few moments of consideration. "Okay, here's a zinger. Never have I ever snuck into a party. Just for the sake of it, school dances from back in the day also count."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "You really think that's a zinger? Sneaking into a party?" he asked. If they thought that was a zinger, then they were very wrong, "I don't even need to drink cause I never needed to sneak anywhere".

Benji gave a confused look as well. "I mean, I've definitely needed to sneak places, but a party? Like, you weren't invited but came anyway type thing? I've never actually wanted to go to parties in high school. Being one of the only Southsiders going to Riverdale High... those guys were dicks." He waved off the thoughts of high school and leaned back as he thought of another question. "...Never have I ever gotten a lap dance?"

"What can I say? Don't really get out much and I don't mind forking over money for a ticket or as an entry fee," the former Serpent fired back as he gave a shrug then shook his head once again. "Again, I don't really get out much and have never had that sort of opportunity pop up, if that makes any sense whatso-fucking-ever. C'est la vie, guys, c'est la vie."

Franco smirked and bit his lip, drinking a large amount of his drink and looking back up, "I would have done you all the favour of lying about it but you know, Benji would have known if I was" he said. He couldn't believe he'd said it and he dipped his head, not wanting to the looks on the boys faces as they cottoned on to what he said. He thought about his question, "Never have I ever, had sex in a car" he asked, before drinking more drink

"Baby, shut up!" Benji replied quickly, lightly swatting at Franco. "It was one time. I had just come back from a party and I was a little tipsy. ...For someone who hates being in charge, you sure liked it. That's all I have to say," he added, taking a sip of his wine before he realized what he had let loose. "Errr, I meant--...I'm kinda drunk already," he slurred.

"And that is my cue to leave," Topher remarked in a semi-joking tone as he pushed himself out of his chair once again. "By the way, not actually walking out of the house. Just going to the kitchen because I'm hungry." Not a complete lie, he'd been feeling rather peckish for the last few minutes. "Never have I ever lied about myself in order to get a date," he called then took a drink. Again, trying to play straight during high school.

Franco laughed and bit his lip, "Hey, you were asking for it" he said once Topher was out the room, "I only insinuated what happened, you went for it big style". He heard the question called back and took a drink, "I lied to you by saying I wanted to wind up".

Benji laughed harder--if he wasn't already laying down on the sofa, he probably would've fallen over--"I didn't mean to! I'm drunk! You know how ramble-y I get when I'm drunk." When Franco spoke again, he shrugged. "That's barely a lie. You came clean as soon as I tried to go on a Tinder date with someone else. ...Doesn't matter anyway, the stupid app kept deleting itself from my phone. Glitchy piece of crap," he murmured, sipping his wine.

As Topher walked back into the living room with a container that held some of his grandma's chocolate chip mini muffins, the Tinder comment caught him off guard and he had to stifle some chuckles. He'd forgotten all about his multiple covert operations of deleting the app in question from Benji's phone. "But hey, do you guys want to take a tiny break to snack or do you want to keep the game going?"

Franco shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not all that hungry if I'm honest" he admitted, his appetite had been lacking recently, "I think I'll just drink and watch some TV". He still hadn't felt comfortable, the game not really relaxing him at all.

"Muffins!" Benji shouted, sitting up from the couch to grab a handful out the tin. He started to eat them, far too gone to notice any of the tension in the room. Still chewing, he leaned back onto the sofa, a smile plastered on his face. "We can just talk if you want!" He grinned, "I love you guys... you both drive me wild. I'm glad we're trying this whole thing out, but if it doesn't work, just tell me, okay? I don't want anyone unhappy."

Topher gave another light laugh as he sat back down in his chair and answered, "Love you too Ben. I think we're off to an alright start so far, but I'll keep you posted if anything changes. Don't want either of you to be unhappy either." As he took a few moments to eat a muffin, then a second one, his thought process started to drift. 

"But I do believe that I promised you guys some apologies and the first one is sorry that I couldn't have picked a better time. But I do want to make a blanket one from the bottom of my heart. I'm incredibly sorry for my past dickish behavior. I wish I could explain away what happened, but the truth is I honestly don't know and you guys might have differing opinions for why I did it. All the same though, I do mean what I'm saying right here and right now. I want the best for you both and even though I'm far from it, I'll do my best to bring something to the table with this whole poly deal."

Franco tried to ignore the 'I love yous' from the other boys but he had to take a deep breath as he did, "I said I would try didn't I? Give me a chance to try" he said, a grumpy tone to his voice. Franco scoffed at the apology, "Pretty sure the thing you were meant to apologise for was punching me in the face? You know, when you gave me a bloody nose". 

He paused before adding, "You want to know something Topher, it isn't easy being with me. I'm an ex addict, I get mood swings and cravings and I can be nasty when I do. I have night terrors from the time I was kidnapped, which you know all too well about cause you were there when it all went down... You can't react by punching me in the face every time".

Topher rubbed the back of his neck as he listened to Franco then took a deep breath as he started to choose his words very carefully. "And I'm sorry for that, I'll forever be sorry for that. We're all learning here in different ways and at different paces. But I'm more than willing to put in the work to help us all come together. I'm more than willing to have your back, continue setting aside past differences, and adjusting to the present." 

"I'm a real rat bastard when I want to be, that punch was more than enough proof of that. I can't turn it off completely, but it can be focused elsewhere so I can work on making things better between us. I do want to make things right, starting here and now. So you have my word that I'll learn better ways to handle things and once again, I'm sorry for punching you."

Benji was still drunkenly eating the last of his muffins during Franco outburst, but by the time Topher had responded, he had finally finished, swallowed, and started to sit up so he could look both of his roommates in the eye. "This is good," he said, trying his best to be a mediator, but the slur in his voice made it difficult. 

"If we wanna move forward, we need to air all of this out. It's the only way we can discuss ways to address everything that's happened, grow from it, and make sure not to do it again. ...Does anyone wanna air anything out about me? We're not gonna move on together until it's all out in the open, y'know."

Franco scoffed, "No, I don't have anything to say about you babe, cause you are the one who's dealt with my shit for too long now". He turned his focus back to Topher, "You knew what I'd been through Toph, you knew the hell I endured when I went missing. You know I've never fully recovered. Physically I'm fine but mentally, I'm fucked. Punching me in the face, cause I was freaking out... Not cool dude. You know the nightmares I had over that shit?". He paused and pushed himself upwards, "I can't do this right now" he said, tears filling his eyes, "I need a cigarette and five minutes to myself" and he headed to the front door.

"I also don't have anything bad to say about you Ben," Topher responded in his usual calm tone then managed to nod in understanding way as he listened once again. A few thousand more reassurances loaded themselves on the tip of his tongue, but he could barely muster up the courage. Finally though, in a low tone, he added, "Again, I'm willing to learn from my mistakes so I can handle things better down the road. It won't happen again." "And you can hold me to that. Both of you," he remarked as he pulled his sweatshirt hood up over his face.

Benji frowned--he wasn't expecting their first interaction as a trio to end up like this--especially with him too drunk to properly mediate. However, what's done was done now. At this point, the best thing the three of them could do was recover from this bump as smoothly as they could manage--in Ben's mind, they was they moved from this moment would be a great indicator of whether they were all wasting their time trying to get this relationship to work. 

 "Okay, Baby. Take a quick smoke break. We'll be here to talk more when you get back. Don't take too long," he said softly, turning to face Topher. "Don't cover your face," Benji reprimanded lightly. He already had a plan on how to try to give Topher a crash course on how to deal with Franco when he gets like this.

"Why shouldn't I?" Topher simply inquired, yet he pulled the hood down just a hint all the same. He was torn between remorse for past actions and annoyance that apparently, he couldn't do anything right. "I'm in territory that I shouldn't be in," he muttered under his breath as his blue eyed gaze trained itself on Brooklyn 99 once more. His mental gears were already turning and it was taking all of his resolve to take off for his room like a little kid.

Benji sighed, sitting up so he could look in Topher's eyes as well as possible given how off-balance all the drinking had made him. "Listen... Franc is a really tough egg to crack, but once you do, he's just the sweetest little cuddlebug you've ever met with just the perfect amount of sass mixed in," he waved off that comment--he was getting off topic. "He's been through a lot. Parts of it I know, parts of it I'm still finding out. And it makes him act out and hold grudges. But you've also caught him at a weird time because he's just started therapy a few weeks ago, so he's learning how to use different coping things, just not in the... 'most ideal' order. Like what just happened. A month ago, he would've never spoken so clearly about what was upsetting him. Before, he'd either just shut down or purposely try to rile you up. So it looks and feels harsh to you, but it's actually a good thing. And I promise that if he didn't want to actually give this relationship the try it deserves, he wouldn't've addressed what was making him angry so eloquently. I've only ever seen him do that with me as of now, so keep that in mind. You're not nearly as far in the shit as you think you are." 

He leaned back as he continued, "Secondly, Franc keeps grudges. For what feels like forever. And when he reverts back, he brings them up. You saw it with the handcuff thing that got you into your mess. It's how he copes. Is it the most ideal thing in the world? Of course not, but everyone has flaws. The best thing you can do is be aware that he does that and if/when it happens, instead of getting upset, just remind him that you've already apologized and that what he's doing isn't fair. Eventually it'll work. And lastly, the best thing you can do for Franc is to just be there as much as possible and constantly remind him that you're there for him.Acknowledging that you wanna improve and learn from your mistakes is nice, but that's more my Love Language than it is Franc's. Franc wants attention, Franc wants affection, and Franc wants to know that people aren't going to leave him. He's... kinda like a kid that way--" he shrugged. He felt bad using the comparison, but with as drunk as he was, he couldn't formulate a better one--"In fact, sometimes I swear he brings things up and picks fights like that because they're subconscious tests he does to make sure we're not gonna decide he's too much and leave him one day. ...Or maybe not. I'm about 3/4ths through a bottle of wine at this point, so who fucking knows." 

He sighed, then stared down at the cup in his hand for a second. He probably shouldn't drink the rest of that, right? He shrugged, gulped it down, then continued: "My main point is this: shower him with love and affection whenever you can. Start with verbal until he's ready for something deeper, then know that the first time you cuddle him, he's never gonna want you to let him go. Do that, work through the hiccups and the tests as calmly as you can, and you'll be surprised at how much love he gives you back once he's ready to. He's my little muscle lovebug. I wouldn't change one thing about him."

Topher nodded along as he listened to what Benji said and did his best to save those mental notes about Franco for later. After all, this was a learning experience, like he'd said. The former Serpent was all about learning new things, absorbing information and always trying to get it from all sides of the story when the moment called for it. But at the same time, his fucked up self esteem just had to crawl out from the back of his mind and twist everything around. 

That Franco and Benji were better off without him among many other similar, colorful remarks. Instead, he just took another deep breath then pulled his hood back up again as he responded, "Thank you for the info. I'll be sure to keep it in mind for the future. Don't know if I've said this before, but if I have then fuck it, I'm going to repeat myself. You are one of the sweetest people I know, Benji Karofsky, and I hope you never lose that quality because it's something that I will always love about you."

"I love you too," Benji whispered, leaning in and cupping Topher's cheek, pulling him into a kiss.

Topher returned the kiss and for a just a few moments, allowed his mind to drift to much better things.

After a few moments, Benji pulled back, looking lovingly into Topher's eyes. "I can't believe I actually get the best of both worlds. I've got to be one of the luckiest guys alive," he whispered, giving Topher another soft kiss.

"I do declare that we both some of the luckiest guys alive," Topher answered before he gave a soft kiss of his own. "Don't know what I'd do without you and all that related, sappier than maple syrup business."

Benji playfully rolled his eyes. "You're so cheesy. But I love it." He kept his hand cupped around Topher's cheek for a second or two longer, then let his hand finally fall, laying back down on the sofa. "I think this relationship is gonna be great once it really starts going. I can just feel it."

Topher plopped back in his chair and gave a light smile of gratitude. "Love you too and I couldn't agree more. I do have a touch more hope for the near future than I did at the start of the night, I'll be the first to admit that. Fingers crossed that once things are on the fast track to getting better, great things will start happening."

Franco had sat on the steps outside, smoked 3 ciggerettes to calm himself. His hands were a little shaky but he knew it was his bodies way of coping with things. He didn't know how to be a little adult about this? How do you watch someone you love, love someone else. 

 He re entered the apartment and gulped, "Look. I ain't saying that I'm gunna jump into this and throw myself into a heap of upset and hurt, cause that's just not me. I want to make this work. I can't change who or what I am or what happened to me in the past and I can't help how I cope with that shit either". He turned to Topher and walked towards him, "You gotta understand, you saw me after what happened. You came to the hospital when I was laying there with broken bones and didn't look a thing like I do today. You watched me recover and then watched me fall to pieces, so you gotta give me time yeah? My life seem to give up" he said with a pause, addressing both men in the room, "First I'm kidnapped and left for dead, then I'm saving Dares life when I was still injured, then I'm a junkie who has to go through withdrawal and now this... it's a lot to take in a few months. So give me time yeah". 

 But it didn't matter, his speech didn't stop his body reacting and within seconds, he was at Tophers side, smashing there lips together.

Topher had started to formulate a response after a new round of attention-confirming nodding, but the kiss from Franco totally caught him off guard. It was fine though, more than fine because he'd honestly run out of things to say without repeating himself. Plus, this was part of the whole poly thing that they were trying out. Twice the amount of kisses, twice the amount of just about everything. Although the latter part was just a theory that remained to be confirmed or denied. Everything aside though, he returned the kiss.

"Wooo!" Benji shouted, giving the boys a round of applause. Obviously his alcohol consumption had made his reaction more comedic than normal, but this didn't change the fact that this happening was exciting for me. At the end of the day, he wanted the three of them to be together and happy; this was a great start, albeit a little out of nowhere.

Franco pulled away from the kiss and nodded, feeling pretty damn proud he'd tried. He stepped backwards and took a deep breath, "I told you I would try" he said to Benji, "And I'm trying to be a man of my word babe".

"And like I said, I'm more than willing to do my part as well. After all, team work makes the dream work," Topher chimed in. He held a hand out to Franco then the other was offered to Benji as he added, "I've got both of your backs, no matter what."

"Alright. You guys are having too much fun without me. I'm coming in," Benji teased, taking Topher's hand and pulling himself into the middle of Topher and Franco, wrapping his arms around both of them and pulling them into a close circle. He gave them each a dramatic kiss on the cheek, smiling brightly.

Franco took Tophers hand, and then turned to kiss Benji as he joined them, "It's the closet thing your gunna get right now to working on it" he said, "You might wanna warn him about me though babe".

"Don't worry," Topher started then trailed off in order to return Benji's kiss. "And you both should know that no warnings will stop me and whatever lessons there are to be learned, I'll take them into account."

"It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but we'll work through it." Benji said with a smile, still holding them both close. "I love you, Franc. I love you, Toph."

Franco stiffened slightly when Benji said he loved Topher but he took a breath and loosened his shoulders, "I love you too Benji and I like you Toph" he said, trying to show his changes, "Excuse me boys, I just need to..." But he slid out of the hold and started walking to the bedroom.

"Love you too Ben and like you too Franco," Topher answered then watched as the latter slipped out. He cast a slightly confused glance at Benji before he whispered in the lowest tone possible, "I know you probably just covered this, but do we follow or what?"

Benji looked at Topher for a second, then at the doorway Franco had just left through, then back to Topher. "I'm... gonna be honest," he answered, equally as quiet, "he definitely wants someone to go after him. And I'm, like... spacing out-levels of drunk. So, want your first real test?" he offered.

"In that case, off I go," Topher replied then leaned over to press a kiss to Benji's forehead. He pushed himself out of his chair one more time and headed off after Franco. "Yo, Franco, wait up."

Franco had climbed onto the bed when Topher caught up to him, "Sorry man but he said I love you and that is just, a little too far" be breathed out. His hands were shaking and he knew drinking and his past was the cause, "I wanna love you Toph but I just can't".

"It's alright," Topher responded as he took a few more steps into the room and sat down on the bed. "I know that I sure as hell haven't made it easy to love me recently, but you've got nothing to worry about in that department. Whatever happens, I will respect your decision and I mean it."

Franco sighed as Topher sat on the bed, "Toph, you know being with me is a rough ride. I'm not easy to handle, I act out and I can be horrible when I'm not getting what I need. Drugs are in my past, but I have urges and desires and if I'm caught wrong, I'll do whatever I can to get out to get them... Can you even handle that".

"You underestimate how much I'm willing to walk though what might be basically hell for the people who matter most to me or those affiliated with said people," Topher fired back, although his tone lacked any evidence of a real desire to start an argument. "I've got your back just like Benji's got your back, simple as that. Through the good, the bad, and in between." He held an arm out in an unspoken invitation for a side hug.

Franco shook his head, "You don't get it do you" he breathed out, "I'm not a good person. Benji deserves so much better and now he's got it, what hope do I fucking have" he spat. He knew he was being harsh but he couldn't handle this, "I might as well give up"

"Franco, dude, please try to slow your roll. You and Benji have been together longer, okay? You have more romantic history with him and you two are fucking engaged. Logic dictates that if it came down to it, you have a better chance than I do," Topher stated in his usual even tone. "You're a far better man than I am in a variety of other ways. I'm not walking away and I'm not backing down from this stance."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "Says the man I actively encouraged him to keep away from by convincing him you were straight when I knew different. He was majorly in love with you and I fooled him into believing you were off limits".

"And I'm willing to move past that. Hell, I've already moved past that," Topher started as he changed tactics and held a hand out to Franco instead. "I'm not asking you to love me right off the bat, okay? I understand that I've made more than my fair share of dick moves recently and it might take some time to move past it. All I want is to work on building trust with you again, building a friendship. Your lead is the one I will follow, just like Benji's. I will listen to you guys and won't walk away just because things hit a bump in the road. I've already said I've got your backs, so please give me a chance to follow through on it." "You won't regret it," he simply added a few beats later.

Franco moved forward and took Tophers hand, "OK so you gotta not say you love him in front of me right now, I can't handle it and it's like I'm watching him fall out of love with me". He took a breath and sighed, "Toph, one day I'll love you but there is so much you don't know about me".

Those few words felt like someone tossed a few darts into his heart in rapid fire style, yet Topher gave a light nod of agreement. "Alright and it's okay. I'm willing to wait, willing to learn, willing to do all that. However long it takes," he answered. With that, he gave Franco's hand a light squeeze along with a small smile.

Franco nodded, "You can say it when I'm not there, cause I know you love him but it's just super hard for me to hear it" he breathed out. He bit his lip and nodded, "Look dude, go back and have fun yeah, I'm just gunna chill for a minute".

"Yeah, gotcha," Topher responded as he stood up. "I mean, if you'd prefer me heading back then that's cool. But before I go, are we cool? Like, we're on the path to making things better between us and all that slash you won't be upset if I go back to the living room?"

Franco nodded, "Dude we are fine I just want five minutes to chill out before I come back. Why don't you go give him a kiss or something? Whatever it is you guys do".

"Alright, I'll go do that or something similar. Think I'll just chill and watch a bit more of B99," he remarked then gave a light yawn. "Then after that, it is off to bed for me."

Franco nodded, and waited for Topher to leave before jumping up and darted over to his chest of drawers, rummaging for his supply and clutching it in his hand. He didn't need to use it, just needed to feel it was there.

As luck would have it, Topher had just reentered the living room when he realized that he'd carried his Pepsi back into the bedroom. So he made his way back, only to stop right in his tracks when he spotted Franco. "I'm kinda frozen to the floor here, can you hand me my Pepsi please?"

Franco's eyes widened and he shook his head, "No...It's.... Shit Toph, it's not what you think it is" he said, quickly hiding it in his jacket. This was not going to go well for him, "Toph, please do not... Just... Fuck, pretend this didn't happen".

"Not what I think it is, huh?" Topher inquired once he finally found his voice again. He leaned against the doorframe as he crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at Franco. "Look, I imagine that we're all tired here so I'll just drop it and grab my Pepsi then walk out like everything is normal. But I do want to talk to you about this as soon as possible, okay?"

Franco took a deep breath and nodded, walking over to the bed and grabbing the drink, handing it to Topher and leaning in a little close to him, "You gotta not fuck this up for me Toph, I can't handle this right now" he breathed out, fear coursing through his body, "Please Toph" he begged.

"First, thank you," Topher stated as he accepted the Pepsi then listened and his features softened just a hint. "Second, please don't make me regret giving you the benefit of the doubt. Ben's got enough on his plate right now and I want to make things work with you, that's why I'm not screeching like a banshee. But I want to talk to you about this later and I want to help you get past this whole using drugs thing." He started to leave, but then decided against it. "On second thought, do you mind if I stay here?"

Franco took a breath, "I'm not using drugs, I just have them" he explained quickly, "And I'm not stupid, I know you want to stay here so you can go through my stuff. All I have is what's on me right now" he breathed out, "Nothing more, nothing less".

"I'm not going to go through your stuff," Topher promised as he held up the hand that held his Pepsi bottle. "Got no free hands for that and even if I did have one, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, remember? Besides, I hate it whenever people go through my stuff and that risk is what makes me jumpy when someone asks to borrow my phone or laptop. Long story short, I get it."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "Then what the hell do you wanna stay in mine and Benji's room for?" he asked, confusion on his face. He shrugged his shoulders, "Fine, you know, do whatever you want. Not like I got anything to hide in here any more" he said simply, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Mostly to keep an eye -," he trailed off when he noticed that Franco had walked out. Topher gave a sigh as he followed him out then headed for the living room. "And there goes progress," he remarked under his breath as he plopped back into his favorite chair and proceeded to tap his fingers against the armrest in order to expel some nervous energy.

By the time Topher had made his way back into the room, Benji, in all his drunken glory, had managed to fall asleep. However, his best friend plopping down next to him managed to shake him awake. "Huh?" he questioned groggily, slowly sitting up as he started to rub his eyes. "Toph? Where... where's Franc?" He yawned. "Did you guys make up?"

"Yeah, we made up and we're hopefully on the fast track to making things better. But I'm pretty sure I just set progress back either a bit or to square one," Topher answered. "Franco? You still in the house?" Then as he carded a hand through his hair, he addressed Benji once again, "I promise you that I'm trying to go with what you told and learn as I go. I'm just a chronic idiot when it comes to stuff that isn't book smarts."

Franco walked back into the lounge and smiled a fake ass smile, sitting in his previous seat and looking at the floor. He did not trust Topher right now and gulped, "Yeah just needed a moment. Thought I could handle it.... couldn't" he said playing with his hand.

"But hey, now I know what to do in order to ensure smooth sailing," Topher replied with a soft smile. He had no intention of making things worse and planned on keeping his mouth shut. But after a good night's rest, there were more problems to be tackled, which was what he definitely wanted to do as soon as possible.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Toph. I'm sure things are fine," Benji replied sleepily, curling back into a ball on the sofa. He stayed silent for a moment, then finally processed what Franco said. "...couldn't handle what?"

Franco narrowed his eyes at Topher and shook his head, "Just you two babe. I kissed him so I'm trying but I couldn't handle seeing it. You know me, a big old pathetic let down" and he stared directly at Topher as he said those last words.

Topher had been the middle of yanking his hood up once again because there was no way he was moving from this chair, even if his bed was much more comfy. But Franco's words caught his attention and the hood fell right back down. "Franco, that couldn't be further from the truth. Neither of you are a let down and even if it takes me a thousand encouraging words to convince you of that, I've got all the time to say them," he responded in a meaningful tone.

"Franc, if you don't want to do this, you can say no. I don't know how many times I can stress that, Baby." Benji sighed. "Maybe I integrated things a little too fast. We'll be a little more private about the affection for a while. But the same's gonna go for you and me, y'know. It's only fair," he explained, hoping that would be a good compromise. As he re-closed his eyes, he couldn't help but smile lightly at Topher, happy he was trying to kill Franc with kindness like he suggested.

"Whatever you guys think will work best," Topher remarked before he yawned and stretched in the chair a little as he did so. "Sorry guys, but I'm going to call it a night. But I believe tonight was an alright first step and things can only get better from here as long as we keep hashing things out, making progress, all that." Another yawn escaped then he murmured, "Night Benji, night Franco. Stay cool, but not cold."

Franco scoffed at Topher and stood up, "I think I'm gunna head outside for a bit and have a smoke" he said, almost testing the other man, "I'll see you in the morning... Where are you staying tonight Benj?"

"Night, Topher. Good job tonight. Hit the showers," Benji teased, starting to sit up when Franco spoke again. "Uh. No you're not. You just had a smoke. Come on, we're going to bed too." At Franco's question, Benji couldn't help but make a face in reaction. "...I'm staying in my bed. Just like every night. So c'mon."

Franco sighed and shook his head, "I wanna smoke babe" he said, clenching his jaw a little. He saw the look on Ben's face and nodded, "OK, you'll stay with me tonight... But soon you won't? How am I meant to handle that? I'm trying Ben, I even kissed him but it's just... It doesn't matter"

"Franc, don't you get it? I know you need me to fall asleep. I'm not sleeping anywhere but my bed with you." Benji rolled his eyes, then sighed. "Maybe we should just call this off, huh? You're not handling it well and it feels like it's putting a strain on us. There's no point in doing a relationship this complicated if it's not healthy, Baby."

Franco nodded, "I don't need you... I just wouldn't sleep" he tried to defend himself. He rushed over to Benji and shook his head, "No baby, I don't want to call this off, I'm just scared and worried and I don't know how else to deal with his other then acting out babe"

"Not being able to sleep is exactly why you need--" Benji started, cutting himself off in surprise when Franco rushed towards him. "What is there to be scared and worried about? Our relationship hasn't changed. We've talked about this over and over." He sighed, "Franc, If we're gonna keep this arrangement, it needs to be healthy--which means we need to be able to talk things through openly and rationally. You don't get to act out every time you get negative feelings. It's not fair to Toph. And it's not fair to me either, although it's my fault for humoring it as much as I have been."

Franco shrugged his shoulders, "It's just in my head babe that I might lose you or something and it freaks me out cause I'm just getting shit back on track". Franco sighed, "I know babe but I'm really trying. People who are in recovery shouldn't even have relationships and here I am trying to juggle two of them... It's hard and I need space to breathe every once in a while"

Benji couldn't help but rub his temples in annoyance. He loved Franco, but dealing with this over and over was getting tiring. "I don't know how else to say this: this poly relationship is not something that would make you lose me. For the millionth time." 

 He turned to look at Franco, "Yes, it's hard. I understand. But I give you space to breathe every time you need it, multiple times a day. Do you think this is easy for Topher either? Of course not. But he doesn't have a temper tantrum every time you and I interact with each other." He sighed. He really didn't want to open up this can of worms, but playing nice was showing to be ineffective. He tried to choose his words carefully as he continued, "I understand that there will be bumps, but there's a difference between a road having bumps and acting like the road's made of gravel."

Franco shook his head at the words, "I don't think it's easy for him but he's used to it. He wasn't in this relationship the whole time we have been" he breathed out. He took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm trying. I kissed him. I spoke with him. I'm sorry that my brain struggles to comprehend everything that is going on".

Benji pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to keep his annoyance from being too obvious. "Let's just... go to bed, okay? We've done enough tonight."

Franco sighed, "You go and I'll meet you in there" he spoke out, "I just really need a cigarette right now"

Benji threw his hands up in defeat and stood up. "...Fine," he murmured, turning and starting to head for his bedroom.

Franco sighed and went down to smoke. He needed to hide his drugs again and somewhere different. He finished up and went back upstairs, nudging Topher, "Hey, you gunna come to bed" he asked, knowing he needed to play nice, "You can come with us but I get the middle" he offered.

One of Topher's eyes opened then both when he heard Franco and felt the nudge. His sleep addled mind didn't want him to move anymore from his favorite chair, but he also knew that he'd regret it if he didn't. Plus he wanted to help make this work, didn't he? So Topher gave an understanding sort of nod as he pushed himself out of the chair and headed off for the bedroom.

By this time, Benji was facing his dresser, changing into a pair of pajamas. "Hey, Baby." he said to the sound of footsteps, not bothering to turn around. In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to stop babying Franco at some point, but he also knew that that day wasn't going to be today. "Cuddle time?"

Franco had walked through to the bedroom with Topher and pushed him in the direction of Benji, "Cuddle him" he'd breathed as he'd made his way to the bed, laying down in the middle, shurugging of his clothes and dropping them on the floor until he was only in his boxer shorts

Topher lightly stumbled, but managed to recover his footing then started to rest his head on Benji's shoulder before he second guessed himself and just leaned against the dresser. "Fair warning to you both, I talk in my sleep," he remarked in between yawns. "Feel free to roast me for what I say or don't. Whatever."

"Toph?" Benji questioned, turning around when the head on his shoulder felt different than what he was expecting. "You're sleeping with us? Awe, this is perfect," he said happily, wrapping one arm around Topher and starting to drag him towards the bed. "Franco in the middle," he stated, clamoring onto the bed and opening his arms for both Topher and Franco to climb into.

Franco was already in the middle of the bed, "Yeah I thought he might not wanna sleep on his own tonight so invited him in with us" he said and then gave a small laugh, "Of course I'm in the middle and, if this works out, then I'm always in the middle".

Topher's tired mind almost made him jump when Benji started to lead him toward the bed and he almost started to voice the obnoxious amount of potential concerns, yet his mouth remained closed. He shuffled over to the empty side then climbed into it. "This might sound weird, but hell with it. Thank you both."

Benji smiled softly, moving the boys so Franco was cuddled into him and his arm was wrapped around Topher’s back. “I’m sleeping well tonight,” he whispered, squeezing them both close.

Franco felt a little out of place but kept himself wrapped into Benji, "Clean slate" was all he breathed.

"The cleanest slate possible," Topher sleepily mused before he drifted back to sleep once more.

#para #para22 #Topher #franco

[robertdowneyjjr]

nursey the tech disaster and dex the apple support guy: an au

a conversation between me & @brandnewfashion

(interspersed with random hockey commentary)

kayytx

au where nursey keeps having IT trouble and every time he goes online to use that quick chat help service (bc he doesn't want to call. that's awkward af) he gets dex as the service guy

brandnewfashion

oooooh

nice!!!!!!!!!!!!

TELL ME MOER

kayytx

i'm trying to decide what products nursey's using that he keeps having issues lmao

i feel like fandom consensus states nursey is a mac guy?

brandnewfashion

yeah i can't see him not using them

kayytx

so basing off of my experience trying to update my software for FOUR HOURS at staying up until 3am bc of that shit ugh

the first time he has to contact apple support online he's trying to upgrade his OSX to the latest software, but it keeps stalling a quarter of the way through

so nursey borrows chowder's laptop to go on apple's website for support help and dex answers

and legit, that shit takes...four hours

brandnewfashion

lol i wouldn't know

sounds annoying tho

kayytx

it's supposed to be only half an hour but my laptop just decided to be a little shit

but anyway

in between dex telling nursey what to do, and nursey following instructions and waiting for his laptop to show some progress

they start chatting

bc nursey is bored and it's late at night and there's nothing else for him to do, especially since his computer isn't working

imagine nursey like, suddenly thinks of a few verses for a poem and types them in the chat bc he couldn't find anywhere else to write atm

and dex is like ??????

brandnewfashion

yesss

kayytx

YASSS HABS WIN

ok anyway

brandnewfashion

GOOD

kayytx

so that obvi leads to a convo where dex asks what nursey does and nursey talks about being an english major

and dex tells him about doing comp sci and working for apple part time

brandnewfashion

FINALLY THE FLAMES SCORED

and yes good i'm liking this au

kayytx

idk how many call locations there are in the US though so i'm trying to figure out where dex is based rn

like i'm kinda tempted to have him live in nyc

but i don't work for apple so idk how true this is

brandnewfashion

dude that'd be cool though? and nursey could be like "YO I'M FROM THERE" and dex, who just started school there, could be like "ok is there any place to get decent ____ bc i haven't found one yet"

kayytx

yeS EXACTLY

so nursey recommends some like hipster coffee places and one day dex remembers this convo and goes and at first he's like, what the FUCK this place serves out of mason jars NO

but he tries the coffee and he honestly thinks it's liquid cocaine so he keeps going back

brandnewfashion

lolllll

kayytx

anyway so like after three hours of chitchat and apple support nursey's computer finally boots properly and installs the update

so they say goodbye, it's been really fun talking to you, thanks for the help, etc. etc. and sign off

then three weeks later nursey's iphone spazzes out

and the nearest apple store is an hour away and he just doesn't have the time to go there, wait another hour for the genius bar to have an opening, and then go back to campus

so he goes online to apple support and clicks the chat option

and it's dex again

dex recognizes him from his apple ID, which usually never happens but bc they had such a good convo last time nursey left an impression

and so again in between helping out nursey he's just like, oh HEY i went to that place you told me about!

so nursey tells him about more places to visit

brandnewfashion

ok ben bishop is in net for the kings (no surprise) but he's wearing his lightning mask and it's really throwing me off

kayytx

god that's so weird

brandnewfashion

ANYWAY

what places does nursey tell him to go toooooo

how long does tihs go on before they get the opportunity to meet?????

kayytx

OKAY OK so

idk i think this happens like four or five times?

apple products arent THAT terrible lmao you can't have that many issues with your products

but nursey's a disaster so

he manages to fuck up something every few weeks

and like after the third time he enters the chat dex's coworkers recognize him also and they just pass him off to dex immediately hahaha

brandnewfashion

lmaooo

kayytx

oh FUCK stars tied the game

anyway

brandnewfashion

RUDE

kayytx

honestly after the fourth time nursey goes online with an issue about his ipad's storage issue or whatever dex is just really tempted to give nursey his number bc for the most part he's been able to solve his problems without referring to the resources at his desk

OH SHIT STARS IN THE LEAD

brandnewfashion

EXCUSE ME WHAT

FUCK U STARS

kayytx

UGH

anyway so yeah dex wants to give nursey his number and nursey wants to ask for it, but they both know the chats are monitored and that's just highly inappropriate and nursey doesn't want to get dex fired

so they both resist but like

it's kinda killing both of them

brandnewfashion

D:

kayytx

yeah like they're both p sure they're gonna die before they ever meet bc they're Dramatic af

BUT!! THIS IS FIC!!! and i love them and want them to be together so DO NOT DESPAIR

nursey goes back to nyc for winter break

and he doesn't want to be all cooped up at home with nothing to do

so he decides to go out, find some inspo, write a bit

AND THEN this suddenly becomes a coffee shop au

nursey goes to that mason jar hipster cafe to get some work done

but in the middle of writing his computer shuts down and he panics REALLY LOUDLY

and what??? dex is THERE???

brandnewfashion

LOL

AMAZING

HOW CONVENIENT

kayytx

R I G H T

he had the day off and was also there to work on some freelance coding projects he has on the side and in the middle of coding he hears this really loud person screaming at his laptop and he's like, what the FUCK

so he looks up and sees nursey doing SOMETHING with his computer. he's not even sure what

and in teh cafe there are like three other people with their laptops out, but dex is the closest and he looks the least busy (nursey is wrong. dex is the busiest, he just looked up at the wrong time and Eye Contact happened and now he's stuck)

so nursey goes over to him and he's like, "yo bro can i borrow your laptop to go on apple support and get some help"

bc that response is just like ingrained in him now. anytime something happens he just. goes on apple support

dex, being the lil shit he is, just goes, "have u tried turning ur computer off and on again"

brandnewfashion

HA

kayytx

nursey: it won't even turn ON dex: maybe its out of battery nursey: it's plugged in??? do u not see it????? dex: maybe your cord doesn't work

dex just. doesn't want to help

he does enough of that at work

brandnewfashion

lollll

kayytx

but nursey is really annoying and he figures the easiest way to get rid of him is to help him so he's like, ok fine i actually work at apple i'll help you

brandnewfashion

wow

the pens are gonna lose

to the STARS

kayytx

.....that's so depressing

brandnewfashion

they got too fucking cocky

ugh

kayytx

D:

brandnewfashion

anyway

dex helps him?

kayytx

dex helps him!

and meanwhile nursey's chattering on and on about how this is the first time someone's actually physically helped him with his laptop bc he never goes to the genius bar even though he probably should and he's terrible with technology and things always just die on him so he always has to get help from online support and it's kinda funny how he always gets the same guy who helps with his problems and it's actually kinda nice talking to him, and he kinda really likes him, but he doesn't think they'll ever meet bc why would that ever happen right? hey maybe dex would know him since they're both working for apple? but what are the chances?? surely there are thousands of people who work for apple

and like all this time dex has sorta just been tuning him out while he works on nursey's computer but he catches a few things here and there

and he's like

wait

rewind

dex: holy shit nursey: what? what is it, is my computer really dead this time? dex: you're derek nurse nursey: umm? yes?

and for a sec nursey thinks that he's just somehow become notorious within apple support center circles or something bc he's gone for help so many times

but then dex introduces himself and he's like OH HOLY SHIT

brandnewfashion

NICE

kayytx

and like sometime during nursey's little ramble he mentioned how he thought dex is funny and really nice and seems like someone he'd like to date and of COURSE dex totally heard all of that

dex: so. you think i'm funny. and you want to date me huh? nursey: ...well i mean maybe? dex: okay well just do you know just because we're both in a coffee shop right now declaring our feelings this ISN'T our first date okay bc i refuse to have our first date be one where i fix something for you again nursey: oh so YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR ME TOO?

brandnewfashion

HA

kayytx

dex: well yeah. i wanted to give you my number but i couldn't do that without a monitored chatroom nursey: i wanted to give you my number too! dex: well? technically? i have your number? because it's in our systems dex: but i didn't want to seem like a creep if i'd just randomly texted you

but anyway they finally exchange numbers like normal people and nursey Officially asks dex out on a date

but then internally he's struggling bc he basically already gave dex a list of all the best places in nyc and now he has nothing to impress dex with lmfao

brandnewfashion

HAHAHAHA

kayytx

they end up going to brooklyn for smorgasburg bc you cant really ever go wrong with that

wait jk that's seasonal so it wouldn't be open for winter break LMAO

brandnewfashion

oh gosh they're gonna become a disgustingly sweet long distance couple

kayytx

yeah nursey's fucked

YES THEY ARE

they're so gross honestly

brandnewfashion

they always have shit going on

there's ALWAYS something hapening haha

kayytx

and dex's coworkers notice that this dude hasn't been on the chat in a really long time??? and they kinda start feeling bad for dex bc they knew he had a bit of a crush on nursey lmao

brandnewfashion

ok but then dex has them all over to meet his "new boyfriend" and they all walk in on nursey screaming at his laptop and they're like "OH"

kayytx

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

and at this point dex is already at the fondly exasperated stage and he's like, jfc nurse you should just give up on technology altogether

#nurseydex #dexnursey #omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #i love this pairing with my whole life #brandnewfashion #kay writes things #honestly i should just start a new tag #kay has ideas #bc i have ideas but i never actually write the fic lmfao #anyway

[game-refraction]

Game Review: Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon - Wildlands (Xbox One)

Mission Failed.

It’s a phrase that this game is too keen on shoving in your face after something goes wrong, and you can bet it will. I lost track of how many missions I had to re-attempt well over a dozen times, usually due to the awful detection system or because of the too-many-commands attached to a single button. Ghost Recon: Wildlands is as every bit as frustrating as it can be entertaining, providing you set the bar very low, and then set it even lower.

With the release of its first DLC expansion, Narco Road, I finally got around to finishing the main game, eliminating all the cartel leaders and ensuring I completed each and every story mission, including replaying the last mission for the alternative ending, both of which imply there is more for this team of ghosts to tackle in the inevitable Wildlands 2.

Ghost Recon: Wildlands is your typical Ubisoft open world game that has its copied and pasted locations sprinkled around with the same care as its thousands of icons that share the same map. While it seems that the publisher is looking to make nearly every one of its franchises some form of an open world, it does so with the least amount of care and passion. There isn’t a single frame in this game that has any sort of polish or, like I just mentioned, passion, behind it. Nearly every aspect of this game is repeating almost immediately after it’s given us something unique. Whether it’s reasons for taking down a cartel drug lord or a random line of dialogue, you will end up doing the same things, hearing the same things, again and again. I must have heard one of my AI companions repeat the same joke well over twenty times, or one of them asking why I would not let them drive; which the game doesn’t even allow, so why ask it? If I had to hear “and baby makes three.” one more time, I fully expected I would just uninstall the game right then and there.

Upon arriving in Bolivia, you are tasked with tracking down a Cartel Warlord named El Sueño and you’ll need to dismantle his empire in order to flush him out. While this is the typical way these stories usually play out, it does so in the most boring way possible. There are several locations on the map with a cartel captain in charge that needs to be flushed out. While the outcome with the cartel leader is making them spill the beans on El Sueño, or just flat out killing them, the setup to locating them is the same for each and every captain you’ll encounter and this game seems built upon you reliving the same hour of gameplay over and over again. While you are free to tackle the captains in any order you wish, the story is never connected in a way that shows the level of threat you possess as you eliminate leader after leader. Each province you clear of a captain is checked off as if it doesn’t matter to the core story, and aside from a phone call from El Sueño late in the game, he seems almost disconnected from the very narrative that is built upon taking him down. I would have loved to have seen the few remaining captains band together to stop you, and since the order is up to you, these scenes would play out differently depending on who was left remaining.

As you enter a new province on the map, your contact will radio you with information in regards to your target, this info is also joined with a narrated cutscene that introduces you to who the target is and the backstory of who they are. These scenes are ok but the use of real people mixed with their awful character models is very distracting and these moments stand out in a very bad way. The problem with each of these leaders is that apart from some flimsy backstory, they become nothing more than background dressing and are so two-dimensional that none of them really stand out. Had each of these characters been involved in more of the missions leading up to them, then maybe, and just maybe, the game would have been far better for it.

Once you’ve been prepped with this intel and are ready to explore, yellow folder icons will populate the map. These are the intel needed to find people or items required to find your target. These missions at the start of the game are fun, sometimes enjoyable and depending on which province you head into, can offer you a wealth of variety. The problem is there is only a small handful of variations on how these story missions play out; Elimination or retrieval.

While the circumstances regarding each mission will vary, this two-fold approach is constant throughout the game. You will either kill your target, destroy property, or retrieve someone to become a snitch or take items like a car to lure out your target. There are small variations on the elimination and retrieval types that do worm their way out of these labels, but they are so rare and frankly, they still operate very similar.

This repeated structure is semi-broken up with another form of repeated structure with its side activities like protecting a radio cart, flipping switches on a few towers or recovering some supplies for the rebels, usually in the form of a plane, helicopter or another type of vehicle. These missions are ok, but if you play by yourself and not online with actual people, then prepare to fail on every attempt protecting that damn radio cart. These missions will help you upgrade your support skills like calling in a mortar strike or requesting a vehicle for a getaway.

Despite my ramblings of disappointment with the title, I did have many moments of enjoyment with the 50 some hours I spent with it. Among the echoing nature of how it disperses its content, there is still an enjoyable game here. The character creation system could be a bit better in the variety of clothes and hairstyles, but overall it allowed me to make a fairly enjoyable character. The shooting aspects of the game are handled well and with a quick tap of a button to change shoulder perspective, it allows you to get a solid shot no matter the way you play.

I’ve played a good portion of it solo as while I did have an ok time playing with other people, I find that most players don’t approach the game in the same way I do and this can lead to frustration when your playstyles clash. There is something very satisfying when a plan comes together in this game as a few missions do give you the ability to tackle a mission in a variety of different ways and then you’ll head into the next mission that is structured in such a way where there is a clear way how to go about this and any other attempt will be met with a mission failed screen.

What I rather liked about playing solo was the Sync shot system of my NPC companions. When you play online, even with just one more person, this AI team is nowhere to be found, taking your team down from four to two, for some odd reason. This Sync shot can be upgraded to three one-shot kills and this tactical method of clearing out a base comes with a swift delight of a pop, pop, pop and they drop. I lost track of how many bases I cleared without myself firing off a single shot and while the Sync shot can be done in co-op online, it lacks the same flair unless you are playing with a group of friends and not some randoms that can just go Rambo at any minute. The multiplayer is fun when you can stay connected, and I like the fact that your 3 other co-op partners retain any progress made on the map and missions can be easily replayed to catch up with a friend who may have fallen behind. There was one aspect of playing solo that did rather annoy me; the nonstop window that would pop up asking me to hold A to join an online match.

The best aspect of playing with a large group of people is the variety of ways you can infiltrate the base. Having a team conquer a base from all sides is something that is rather difficult to do with an AI team. Flying over a hillside with a group in several vehicles is extremely fun, as is the rush of almost getting caught until your teammate drops a nearby enemy who just spotted you. For as much fun as I had with my AI companions, some experiences in this game are vastly improved with real life players, regardless of how long you’ve known them. Going back to infiltrating bases, I found it rather odd that for how the ghosts are a team of professionals, that no one has a set of wire cutters for a chain link fence or a grappling hook for a difficult climb.

The detection system is probably one of the worst ways this type of mechanic has ever been done in a video game. I’ve been spotted through buildings, from distances that make no sense for detection, and through walls when the enemy is not even facing me. I’ve gone prone on a hillside and taken out a whole base and then a random car will spot me from below and fail the mission for me. The worst is when you are minutes away from completing a mission and a random helicopter will spot you and then the proverbial you-know-what hits the fan, and when it does, then my word does this game ever throw whatever it can at you, and then it will pile on even more enemies in such force that you’ll beg to reload the checkpoint and try again, but you have to die since there is no manual way to reload that checkpoint, and even then, the checkpoint will be either at the start of the mission or at a distance that is rather far away from where you were.

As you find guns and grenade-like items on the battlefield, you’ll level up your character and earn skill points. These points are used to purchase skills like more ammo capacity, upgrades for your reconnaissance drone, or being able to take more damage. There are dozens of skills that can be unlocked and they will require resources as well as those skills points. The resources; Medicine, Food, Gasoline, and Comm Tools are scattered around the mini-map with green icons. You can earn higher quantities of these resources from the side activities that are also green icons on the already populated icon-filled map. Other items that join the collectible hunting are upgrade stars that add perks to certain skills you can purchase, and parts that you can equip to certain guns to give them better scopes or enhance other traits to make them more lethal. While collecting items can bring out the OCD in you, depending if you are a completionist or not, the icon-filled map is just ridiculous. I’m all for adding content to a game, but this method of making your game a collectible hunt is just filler, plain and simple.

Vehicles can make or break your experience here as they can come off a bit weightless and far too bouncy. I love the motorbikes, when you don’t get flung off one that is, and was my main method of transportation. I loved that you don’t have to wait for your AI companions to get in the vehicle as they will teleport to a seat in the car as you speed away, even if they are dead. Vehicles do tend to bounce around far too much and this can lead to accidentally rolling a car down a hill or getting it wedged between some rocks while racing down a rocky mountain. Helicopters I found a bit slow to take off and the learning curve of how to properly fly a plane can take some getting used to.

The development team spent two weeks in Bolivia taking in the location and looking to make the game as visually impressive as they could, as the Anvil engine is fairly impressive. While character models are quite bad, the environments are not and can look rather great at times, if a bit copied and pasted. Bases all tend to look the same and you will get moments of Deja Vu as you take a few down. The variety in Bolivia here is decent as you’ll take to jungles, arid deserts and snow filled mountains. There are also many locations that are based upon real-life landmarks that add a bit of credibility to the world Ubisoft Paris has created.

The audio in Wildlands is a mixed bag for sure, as radio stations became so annoying that Ubisoft themselves produced a patch that allowed you to turn them off. The audio between the team is fantastic, at first, but starts to repeat itself so much it became painful to listen to. The voice acting itself is split down the middle with a few actors giving solid performances while a few of them really looked to ham it up.

As I mentioned in my opening paragraph, Wildlands tends to put a lot of commands on the controller, especially the A button if you are playing on Xbox or the X button on PS4. When you go to target an enemy for the Sync shot, you’ll press A/X to lock them in. The A/X button, however; is also the climb button. I’ve had so many times where the enemy moved slightly and my character would then mantle over my cover and expose themselves, to either the base then going on alert or part of the instant fail mechanic they use far too often, all for my attempt at locking them in for a Sync shot.

Another few issues that caused a bit of frustration is the climbing mechanic and the inability to swap to the driver’s seat should you select the wrong door. There are several instances in the game where you can climb and it works well when it wants to, but not when it needs to. Your character will have no problem scaling a 5-foot wall when it’s required but will be unable to when it’s a short 2-foot incline where climbing isn’t allowed. I’ve tried to use a vehicle as a step ladder of sorts to climb over a fence and it just wouldn’t allow it. When you enter in a rear passenger door you can only swap to the other seat and not to the driver’s seat. While not a huge issue, it has caused me a great deal of time wasted having to exit the vehicle and re-enter it to the proper seat and more often than not, my target got away. I also found that backing up in a vehicle would swing the camera around to see the front of vehicle and this can cause you to drive in a direction you don’t want too and the time needed to swing the camera back around can lead to a target getting away or your vehicle taking a lot of damage.

Apart from the minor, but frustrating control issues, the game is rather buggy and glitches were fairly constant throughout my time with the game. I’ve had NPC’s stop their role in a quest, as several times where I was to tail or protect the NPC as they proceeded to their end location just stop and stand there, with a few cases of them getting stuck in traffic because other NPC’s got in an accident on the road, as you can see in the picture here. I’ve had one time where as I was driving my captive to my home base just suddenly die in the car. I’ve had enemies discover me through walls, or shoot at me through them as well. There was even a time where I went to snap a guard’s neck and he dropped to the floor before I could touch him, but the animation still played out. I’ve had the game lock me out of my gun and not allow me to fire, forcing me to turn the game off and start it up again. I could go on and on with more examples of glitches and bugs, but basically, my point is that the game is just full of them.

Ghost Recon: Wildlands is a mess, plain and simple. Yes, it can be fun, enjoyable, and with the right group of people, a blast. That being said, the game looks to repeat too much of itself and wears out its welcome fast. The copy and pasted approach to how the world is constructed is lazy and environments lack that wow factor to make their set pieces memorable. As a game, Wildlands is a bare minimum effort, stretching its mechanics across a map that is so densely packed with collectibles that it can ruin the pacing of what the story expects from you.

Ubisoft has taken a franchise that could easily go toe to toe with the likes of Battlefield and Call of Duty and turned it into a Division meets Far Cry game that at no point feels like a Ghost Recon title. While I am not opposed to a developer changing up their franchise and breathing new life into it, the fact you are slapping a new coat of paint on recycled and overused mechanics isn’t new, it’s giving us the same thing again with a new name and expecting us to reward you for it.

Ghost Recon: Wildlands was reviewed on a digital copy purchased on the Xbox One Marketplace. All Screenshots were taken via the Xbox One and uploaded to the Windows 10 App.

Game Review: Tom Clancy’s Ghost Recon – Wildlands (Xbox One) was originally published on Game-Refraction