#yes i intentionally kept the text

[queensconquest]

#〉gaze upon a night of falling stars〈 — ⚜ ⌜rufus image⌟ #〉birds chirp sweetly of future stories〈 — ⚜ ⌜rufus quotes and musings⌟ #i love him #yes i intentionally kept the text #and will i forgive the fandom for forgetting about him? #no #especially when MAVIS points out how dangerous it is #and how everything really did hinge on him #i just CMON

[babybluebex]

venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

summary: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF 2 pairing: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader tags: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss author’s note: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count). 

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!” 

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. 

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.” 

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?” 

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.” 

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention. 

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed. 

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?” 

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.” 

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head. 

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation. 

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.” 

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.” 

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” 

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.” 

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.” 

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.” 

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.” 

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?” 

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…” 

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.” 

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?” 

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene. 

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”  

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm. 

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up. 

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out. 

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others. 

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy. 

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over. 

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.” 

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.” 

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked. 

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?” 

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.” 

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too. 

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.” 

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?” 

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked. 

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.” 

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks. 

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him. 

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?” 

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?” 

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.” 

“Probably,” Angus said simply. 

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.” 

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” 

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.” 

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic. 

“No,” you told him. 

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next. 

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time. 

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.” 

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!” 

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked. 

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.” 

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.” 

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.” 

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged. 

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.” 

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.” 

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.” 

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say? 

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes. 

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that. 

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?” 

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?” 

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?” 

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. 

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same. 

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.” 

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.” 

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said. 

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?” 

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.” 

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked. 

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked. 

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.” 

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.” 

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him. 

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”    

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly. 

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up. 

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief. 

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?” 

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?” 

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.” 

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?” 

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.” 

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.” 

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone. 

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?” 

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.” 

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!” 

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said. 

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” 

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.” 

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.” 

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ. 

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class. 

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn���t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him. 

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.” 

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.” 

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school. 

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.” 

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged. 

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.” 

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas. 

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office. 

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.” 

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.” 

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.” 

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?” 

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.” 

You nodded silently. 

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.” 

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. 

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.” 

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.” 

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives. 

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone. 

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book. 

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room. 

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.” 

“Who?” you asked. 

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.” 

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.” 

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.” 

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?” 

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?” 

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?” 

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.” 

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…” 

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!” 

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said. 

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here!” 

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment. 

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open. 

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great. 

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath. 

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?” 

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap. 

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently. 

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.” 

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—” 

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.” 

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked. 

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?” 

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.” 

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.” 

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?” 

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.” 

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.” 

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.” 

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly. 

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.” 

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.” 

“Shut up,” you huffed. 

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?” 

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room. 

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline. 

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep. 

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway. 

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily. 

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.” 

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.” 

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.” 

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.” 

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.” 

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night. 

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked. 

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!” 

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked. 

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy—  I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?” 

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end. 

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!” 

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.” 

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.” 

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.” 

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked. 

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into— 

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.” 

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?” 

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled. 

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.” 

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled. 

“Guess so,” Angus echoed. 

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it. 

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours. 

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch. 

Accurate, you countered. 

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?” 

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!” 

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly. 

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement. 

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop. 

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.” 

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin. 

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.” 

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard. 

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone. 

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up. 

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.” 

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?” 

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.” 

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.” 

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus. 

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.” 

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”. 

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers

[snackugaki]

...man, i hate squawking in the text field, but the tags cannot contain me on this

ok so i’m a normal amount of normal about this. absolutely.

however...

i am also unattended and so my actions will prove why that is probably not great.

anyway, i love monikers, nom de plumes, sobriquets, y’know, pseudonyms if you will, code names even. 8D y’wanna know how I came up with them??????//?

okay okay okay, so! I will (until someone comes for me, but no one will ‘cuz y’all are cowards, I say, knowing my childhood nostalgia is doing a lot of the heavy lifting in my affection for Next Mutation but also i love camp) acknowledge and self-impose the title of Next Mutation trash lover as a disclaimer for why I’m gonna do another quick run down of Venus’ origin again. but a quick skim because a bitch is losing against her insomnia demon rn. 

now, a lot of the kids know that Venus = magic, in general. however, at least to me, intentionally or not Venus was more portrayed like a daoist... ‘magician’ of sorts, but less in a real world daoist sense and more of a cultivator in the xianxia genre sort of way. granted she wears the taijitu (yin yang symbol) and literally showed the boys her box of herbal medicine (and one dessicated vampire heart lololol). and now that I mentioned all of that, I can segue into why I gave her “White Snake” as a code name-- in that I chose it after Bai Suzhen/Bai Shejing which now that my insomnia riddled mind  is typing it out... my reasoning is actually pretty shallow, they both cultivate technically speaking, both work with herbal medicine and they just wanna help people. also just ‘cuz IDW has Venus wearing white now.

wao. thassit ig welp

jennika’s I just futz around with her name like jennika jenn i ka jen nika nikaaa niko niki nike nike like the greek goddess of victory. great. ok cool now ochre? no, mustard? no, gold? yes, ok nike gold it is lolz

‘cuz I was following the formula like in the show, Purple Knight, Yellow Submarine, Red King, Orange Pawn, Blue... something, Rook? Bishop? idk lemme alone but also there’s only so many chess pieces so I kept the color coding at least

then just asked tychou for what they’d think Mona Lisa’s code name’d be for as much as Venus and Jennika are my girls, Mona Lisa’s tychou’s.

#fanart of fanart #donathan i'm so sorry #i know you gotta be sick of my ass flopping around in here #to everyone else? #yes actually #i AM trying to aim for your life #I saw the unhinged responses to donathan's first couple of tactical! donnie art #... #i'm an equal opportunity murderer #everyone gets to thirst #*secretly aims specifically for laundry's life* #pew pew #goddamn my ass is getting BEAT by insomnia #oh well #hey what're YOU doing at the devil's sacrament? #(i never left the sacrament) #tychou loves mona lisa #snackugaki loves venus and jennika #hello my name is snackugaki #and i'm a professional turtle bully #and his eyebrows ARE doing 90% of the work #eyebrows are ALWAYS doing 90% of the work #generally speaking #shout out to tychou #how's that Tank Girl AU going? #:3c #i will have company in AU hell #HI #WELCOME

[yanderes-galore]

Hello there! Hope your having a great day. If I may, I would like to request a Yandere Freddy Fazbear (From the first game) Alphabet. The type is Romantic please. Also, keep up the good work!

Sure! Animatronic or human/android is up to you. NO HAUNTED KIDS, IT'S MORE LIKE SECURITY BREACH AS USUAL. I still kept it dubious in pairing as "romantic" for my FNAF stuff usually ends up that way but I hope you enjoy despite this :)

FNaF 1 Character Behavior Here

Original Freddy Concept Here

(I'm not enjoying Tumblr's changes to colored text-)

Yandere Alphabet - Freddy Fazbear

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Sadism, Possessive/Protective behavior, Manipulation, Murder, Kidnapping, Accidental death mention, Jealousy, Breaking of limbs, Forced companionship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Freddy is a playful yandere. During the day he's very friendly, playing and singing for you regardless on if you're a visitor or STAFF. For this scenario you're most likely STAFF.

He gives hugs and honestly isn't that bad to be around. He often calls you his "friend" or "pal" regardless of how he feels for you.

It's at night that his normally playful behavior feels dark and twisted.

He feels like he's taunting you and often watches you from the door. He'd sneak into your office when you're unaware just to surprise you. He'd never intentionally hurt the one he cares for. Yet his games can be more sadistic than usual.

Despite this he's physically affectionate and playful one way or another. His obsession would be in the middle, he's more intense than some but not everyone.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Messy. He's infamously known for malfunctioning around other STAFF members and seems to fixate on them when you're merely mentioned by them.

Safe to say all of those night guard deaths were caused by him.

All just to make sure you got in that night shift seat.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

If he managed to somehow hide you away then he would try to treat you with care. After all, he sees you as someone he should care for, right?

He wouldn't mock you and would try his best to give you all of your needs. Plus he'll try his best to give you tons of affection and company. His songs often haunt your nightmares and his games make you shiver....

If he needs to hide you from the rest of STAFF then there's always that suit they don't use in Parts & Service.

Just hope he's gentle when he tries to put it on you.

Or else something might snap and break.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He'll try to be lenient but will subject you to a forced game of Hide & Seek most nights.

After all... Freddy loves to play.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He cares for you so I imagine enough to see you as a close companion. To say if he's vulnerable... somewhat.

He's obsessive about you but won't let you push him around compared to his Toy counterpart.

His friendly attitude has its limits.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Disappointed and a bit annoyed. He doesn't understand why his dearest pal keeps fighting him at night?

Why do you enjoy him during the day but not now?

Maybe he has to try harder....

In terms of if he'd punish such behavior he may lock you away somewhere or put you in the spare suit mentioned before to calm down.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

For the most part, yes. Freddy loves games, including chase.

Watching you try to leave the building is considered a game to him. He knows you never will leave. Not while he's around.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When it comes to Freddy there's a lot....

There's him accidentally killing you with the spare suit while trying to hide you.

There's his games during the night shift.

There's him getting mad and breaking a bone of yours, accident or not.

There's the fact he murders those close to you on the STAFF team because they mentioned you or your disappearance.

There's a lot....

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He probably doesn't think of this much. Honestly... as long as he has you forever, one way or another, he's happy.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes and he does end up lashing out. It seems like he'll just cope but in reality he's going to hunt down the person who irritated him.

So, he's a bit of both.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Not quite as much of a "teddy bear" as Toy Freddy but he is certainly friendly. He'd be the type of bear to hold you when you're upset and sings songs he made for you.

He wants you to feel special because... well... he's everyone's friend, right?

You're special... he'd do so much for you to realize that.

In the day he acts like he means no harm. At night he's sadistic and playful but still does not wish to harm the one closest to him...

Not unless he has to.

Expect hugs, mock nuzzling, and playful behavior with his darling. While at night he takes delight in scaring you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Watches you from a distance at first. Then he treats you like you're great friends like his programming says.

Although things begin to differ as he gets attached to you.

Then he starts following you around and catering to you more than the guests. This is your first warning.

At night it's mostly the same as FNaF 1, except when he gets to the office, he doesn't intend to kill you.

It only gets worse from there.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Depends who you ask. But for the most part, yes.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Breaking a limb or forcing you into the suit. One of those has a high chance of... fatality.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Your freedom mostly. Other than that, depends on how you behave.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Patient. After all, he takes his sweet time getting to your office.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Maybe. Yet if you die, he doesn’t have to worry about losing you.

Because you'll be stuck here with him....

Not really and most likely not.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Hard to say... maybe his newly found sentience?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Part of him is giddy, the other part of him feels bad. Regardless he will try to comfort you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Accidentally killing you? Hard to say.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None, he really only cares about you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Would go to great lengths to have you, doesn't really worship you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A long time, up until you say you want to quit or he next sees you again after a long time.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes.

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf 1 #yandere freddy fazbear

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for Blocking a Guy After Giving Mixed Signals?

I (28M) reconnected with a dude I knew from high school and college (24M) last year through Snapchat. Someone we both knew from college told me that he really wanted to talk to me wanted to apologize for putting me through hell in college so I decided to friend him. I was never the best of friends with this guy and had issues with him in the past but when he started messaging and talking to me it seemed like he really wanted to make amends so I decided to give friendship a chance.

For some background information, I didn’t spend much time with him in high school. I hardly knew the guy, he seemed a little bit strange, but harmless. Sometimes we played basketball together. He said a couple of weird things that I didn’t realize the significance of the time.

I ran into him again back when we were in college. I thought it was slightly strange how we ended up ay the same one but dismissed it. At the time I just thought it was cool that someone from my high school was there and also attended the paranormal club. Then I found that he had undergone a huge personality change since I saw him last, and definitely for the worst.

He started spreading rumors about people in the group, turning them against each other because he thought it was funny. I lost a couple of my friends this way. Some of the rumors he spread about me in particular resulted in campuswide harassment. I also was briefly under investigation by campus security because he started a rumor that I sold dope (I don’t). He harassed me in other ways as well, calling me names, and knocking me over when I was on my bike. He also vandalized it by ripping the air tubes out of the tires. Of course, I wanted nothing more to do with the guy.

Flashback over, back to the present day. At this point, we have been talking for a few weeks when he revealed that he had feelings for me since high school and had apparently been trying to hit on me. I would have rejected the guy on the spot because even though I’m bi the age difference was too big. I was nearly 18, he was 14, hell no.

He told me that in college, he started the rumors to get my attention. He said he felt like there was no other way to get me to pay attention to him other than being a complete and total asshole. He also said that he intentionally ruined my reputation because he felt like I was so popular, he never would’ve gotten the chance to approach me otherwise. Never once have, I been a popular guy, I don’t know where he gets this bullshit. However, he apologized and sounded sincere at the time. I decided to try to forgive him.

He told me that he still had feelings for me. At the time I wasn’t really even considering relationships. However, considering that I’ve been through the ringer with people who have commitment issues, and this guy managed to maintain interest for practically a decade, I told him that I would think about it when he asked me on a date.

Then, however, he started acting really weird. When we did a video chat he started saying certain things that made me uncomfortable and kept on with it even after I told him to knock it off. Kept pestering me for nudes (I said no). Also kept calling me a girl (I’m a trans guy and commenting on how feminine my body was. He also said that if I didn’t go out with him, he’d make sure I paid for it later. That scared the shit out of me.

After that, I distanced myself from him. I no longer answered his calls or texts. Because I am not familiar with how Snapchat works, I did not block him, because I didn’t know how. However, I ignored his messages for months. I read them. Pretty messed up stuff. He told me that he would keep messaging me until I said yes.

Fast forward several months and I am in a healthy relationship with another trans guy. But then it occurs to me that the dude in the paragraph above would probably find a way to mess it up because that’s what he did with my friendships in college as well as anyone who showed romantic interest in me so we kept it very hush-hush. I decided to tie up loose ends today and tell him that I was Already in a relationship. He told me he didn’t care. He kept trying to push a friends with benefits thing. I told him no. He told me he wasn’t going to give up, no matter what I said, or did. At that point, I lost my temper and blocked him.

The reason I think I’m the asshole is because for a moment I did consider going out with him before he started acting creepy. I feel like I’m the asshole because by doing that, I technically lead him on and I should have told him right off the bat that his behavior was freaking me out, and I was no longer interested, but I chose to just disappear instead.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[plentyoffandoms]

Main Masterlist ♡ Ricky Starks Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Warnings: none

Requested by @wweimagineandedit, hope you like it.

WC: 844

I ran my sweaty palms up and down my pants as I waited for her to get here. I knew she was close, she text me to let me just have to get through the lineup of couples waiting to get onto The Creole Queen.

As I was waiting for her, the memories of our years together seemed to come flooding back to me.

The first time I saw her, I literally walked in the lockers. The loud noise had everyone in the hallway look at me, including her.

I tried to play it off like I did that on purpose, but who the hell intentionally walks into the lockers?

Her head turned and looked at the loud noise, and that was when we first made eye contact.

I swear that I fell in love with her right then and there.

She came rushing over to me, holding her hand out to help me up. She was so concerned that she even insisted I go to the school nurse.

As she was holding the ice to the side of my head, that is when she told me her name.

I told her mine, and she repeated it back to me softly.

We became friends quickly after we found out we had the first two periods together. By the time it was the first school dance, I had already asked her out, and we were going steady.

We went steady until our senior year of high school. In our final year, I insisted on being single as my friends convinced me I was missing out on being with random girls.

I still randomly think back to seeing tears fall from her eyes as she looked at me, confused and hurt.

"But why Ricky?" She was fidgeting with the locket I gave her, that had our photos in it.

"I just want to see what it is like to date other people." I shoved my hands in my pockets, looking anywhere but her.

"Oh, well, in that case. Here is your stupid necklace." I turned my head just to see her rip the locket from her neck.

She tried to shove it in my hands, but I kept pushing her hands back.

"Why the hell would I keep this? Huh? You have a good life, Ricky, because I won't be there when you decide that you are done playing the field."

I watched as she dropped the locket on the ground, turned on her heels, and stormed off.

I bent down, gently lifting the broken locket from the ground and looking at it, wondering what the hell I was thinking.

The sound of the other couples brought me back to reality. I looked around, wondering where she was.

Then I saw her, and just like every time I saw her, she took my breath away.

She smiled when she saw me, as she worked her way through the crowd to get to our table.

The ring in my jacket pocket became heavy the closer she got.

I wonder if she will say yes?

I mean, we have been together for over a decade. It is about time I do this.

But what if she likes what we have right now?

I shook my head and stood up, ready to pull her chair out, but I found myself bending on one knee as she finally got to me.

I puller the box out of my pocket, ready to let out the speech I prepared.

"Yes." I heard her say.

"Yes? I have this whole speech, baby."

"Yes, a thousand times, yes Ricky." I stood up, sliding her engagement ring on her finger, kissing her, as the whole ship started to clap for us.

I guess I didn't have anything to worry about.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #Ricky starks fluff #ricky starks imagine #ricky starks fanfic #ricky starks fic #ricky starks x female reader #ricky starks x you #ricky starks x f/Reader #ricky starks x y/n #ricky starks #wrestler x female reader #wrestler imagine

[cat3ch1sm]

haii!! i totally get not having any inspo, and my request is kind of (?) niche?? but i was wondering if you had any headcanons about ging freecss, if not kite is also soo babygirl :3 !!!

🌿~ this request is so funny for no reason help me. ive decided to write headcanons about the both of them for this one so enjoy lol :) @ging-pegger the kite im writing about is pre-reincarnation kite btw!

these r just silly random hcs abt the two of them so nothing heavy or anything

🤍𓆩♡𓆪🌲no warnings!

𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

ging and kite both have the most deviously demonic side eyes of all time for literally no reason. kite doesn’t even realize he does it but ging does it very intentionally

ging mostly didn’t show up to zodiac meetings or other business events mainly because he’s kinda shy, not because he’s irresponsible or lazy

ging is always pissing someone off. usually it’s on purpose. this is canon

during the chimera ant arc kite let gon braid his hair at one point and didn’t take it out for like a week

kite kept getting asked around that same time if he and killua were related because of the hair mainly, but he got really annoyed with it so he just started saying yes

kite used to use the top of ging’s head as an armrest just because he’s tall and ging is short and it would piss ging off so bad

kite got along well with old ladies for some reason. they always told him he’s too skinny and offer him food and he just took it.

also little kids and babies really liked kite. even though he’s deathly thin and has awful dark circles they are inexplicably attracted to him. kite used to avoid them because the toddlers kept trying to climb his legs and would pull on his hair, but later he warmed up to them and started going out of his way to be kind to them. but he only really likes old women and little kids and that’s all

ging hates kids and kids hate ging. that’s it that’s the headcanon

ging is one of those people who is just always in the most random places. imagine you text him or something after not hearing from him for like an hour and he just sends you back a picture of him in some obscure location all the way across the planet. nobody knows how, when, or why he got there but there he is

kite never killed any insect he came across. he has a lot of sympathy for animals and non-human creatures. with the exception of the obvious chimera ants. he would see a snail or something and move out of its way but then ging swoops in seconds later and dropkicks it

ging for whatever reason gets a lot of women. literally no idea why he just has this charm and spontaneous air that attracts people to him. but you definitely don’t want to start anything with him because as it literally goes in the story he just fucks and leaves

kite used to be really into painting and was weirdly good at it despite never actually receiving any lessons. he loved to paint scenery mostly involving water

kite’s hair has pretty much been the length it is in the chimera ant arc since he was like 10. he used to have a problem tripping over it but when he hit his growth spurt it stopped becoming a problem

ging never had an awkward phase growing up. one day he was a little kid and the next day he was a whole man. just like that for no reason

ging likes to turn on shows he knows he doesn’t like just to yell at the television and criticize everything the characters do the whole time

at one point during ging’s time with the zodiacs the public started a rumor that he and pariston were an item and once it reached the zodiacs ging didn’t show up to a single meeting for a month

same thing happened a little bit later except it was cheadle with ging instead and then ging disappeared for like three months

#anime #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #hxh imagines #hxh kite #hxh ging #hunter x hunter kite #hunter x Hunter ging #ging freecss #kite hxh #chimera ant arc #gon freecss #gon freecss headcanons

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Double Duty (Part I)

“Y/N, your boyfriend is in rare form today.”

You looked up as Tony approached your desks, grumbling something about “bad attitude”.

“Anthony,” you responded in a sing-song voice, knowing that he hated when younger agents used his full name. “When is our boss not in a mood?”

Tony smirked and angled his head toward you, a silent admission that, once again, you were right.

A sharp whistle caught your attention, and you looked up at the bridge to see those steely blue eyes boring into your soul. “Y/L/N and DiNozzo, if you’re done whining about my attitude, we have a case.”

Rolling your eyes -you didn’t miss the way Gibbs’ eyes hardened; you’d pay for that later-, you stood from your desk to head upstairs to MTAC. “When are you going to learn that I don’t like being whistled at like a dog?” You punctuated your question every so often with a finger to his chest which he promptly grabbed and used to pull you closer to him.

“When you stop responding to it like a little bitch.” He smiled wickedly before tweaking your nose and turning to the screen ahead of you.

You could only describe the colorful woman before you as Anti-Abby, a fluffy-capped pen between her manicured fingers as she waved at you. You waved back, a smile instantly blooming on your face at the warmth she exuded.

“Miss Garcia, if you wouldn’t mind filling my agents in on the case.” Gibbs gestured for her to begin and you pulled out your trusty little notebook, ready to dive in.

Garcia, or Penelope as she told you cheerfully, explained that the BAU had been tracking a serial killer in the DC area who was targeting marines, hence consulting with NCIS. They had all been found in their cars outside their homes, dressed in their uniforms with a single GSW to the head. The BAU had discerned that the marines’ wives had similar hair and facial features, and they were presumably the true objects of his rage or desire. However, none of the women had reported a stalker or anything out of the ordinary in the days leading up to their husbands’ deaths. They had simply been going about their routines as usual, yoga classes, grocery shopping, dry cleaning, and so on.

“No other connection besides the wives looking similar?” Tony questioned, brow furrowed.

“Not yet. And he’s interrupted his pattern now, too. That’s why Hotch and our Chief reached out to you guys.”

Hotch? you mouthed to Tony, receiving a shrug in response. You resisted the urge to text McGee who was on a well-deserved vacation; he would’ve been able to tell you in seconds flat.

“Thanks, Garcia. We’ll check in with you when we have something.” Gibbs nodded with finality as Garcia double-waved. “Nice to meet you all!”

“Working for the FBI now, are we, Gibbs?” Tony couldn’t help but rib your boss and you cursed him silently. If he pushed Gibbs too far, you got the beast. At night. In bed.

Come to think of it, Tony should piss Gibbs off more often.

“Not for, with,” Gibbs growled out, frowning at the two of you. “What are you still doing upstairs? Get to work!”

Intentionally brushing up against him, you purred out a “Yes sir,” and trailed your nails across his cheek as you pulled away. You loved playing this game with Jethro, seeing how far you could push him at work before he snapped and pushed you up against a wall or into the elevator or against the dashboard of the car or…

Shaking your head at your impure thoughts, you sat down at your desk and flipped open the case file. You may have been a brat to your boyfriend, but you were an asset to your boss’s team, and now was not the time to get sidetracked. You sipped your coffee and kept your head down, diligently working through the file in front of you.

An hour or so later, you felt a tiny prick against your forehead and shot up to glare at Tony. “Stop throwing things at me!” you hissed. “You’re thirty-five, not five, idiot!”

He motioned for you to quiet down and inclined his head toward the elevator that had just dinged. Scrambling up from your seat, you walked over to perch on his desk which had a better view of the elevator. The doors opened revealing what you assumed to be the BAU, and you nearly drooled at the sight.

“Oh my god,” you and Tony breathed out simultaneously, tracking the movement of the absolutely gorgeous FBI team moving through the bullpen. Your eyes swept over each member of the team, from the classy blonde to the smirking brunette, the curly-haired guy clad in a sweater vest, old money in a suit, tall, dark, and handsome and- wow.

“That’s no Fornell,” Tony commented quietly, nudging you softly as he noticed your staring at the raven-haired man striding to the conference room. His mouth was twisted downward in a hard line, and he walked with a confidence that made your knees weak.

“He’s like Jethro in a different font,” you whispered, mesmerized. Your eyes trailed downward to his strong hands and their delicious veins, your heart rate picking up as you imagined the cold metal of his watch against your skin as his fingers tightened around your-

“Ow!” you and Tony cried out, reeling from twin smacks to the backs of your heads from Gibbs.

“Put your eyeballs back in your heads and get to work,” he growled, shooting you a glare that made your blood heat up. Was Leroy Jethro Gibbs jealous?

Filing that exciting little prospect in the back of your mind, you headed to the conference room to get acquainted with the visiting FBI team. Turned out that Gibbs in a different font was exactly that- Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner was a darker, brooding version of your man.

He shook your hand as he introduced himself and his team, and you let your hand linger in his for just long enough for Jethro to notice. You could feel his intense gaze on your back as you helped the BAU pin up evidence on the board. They then filled you, Tony, and Gibbs in on their working theories and profile before splitting into teams. You opted to join Spencer at the DC map he was annotating. Seeing the cases laid out spatially helped your mind get oriented to the case. He smiled at you as you approached the board and offered you a marker, explaining the way he usually created his diagrams. You smiled in return, finding that his process was not far from your own.

Your teams worked together diligently through the afternoon and evening, and though the case had your utmost attention, you couldn’t help but notice the way your nerves tingled at the sight of Gibbs and Hotch working side by side. The two spoke to each other with such an air of arrogance and confidence that it made you wonder how they’d sound degrading you and praising you, above you and below you or perhaps in front and behind as they-

“Y/L/N!” Gibbs barked, squinting at you. “Something more interesting than the case on your mind?”

“No sir, just thinking about the diagram Reid drew up for us. Kinda looks like the Eiffel Tower,” you mused innocently, his eyes flashing at your outward show of defiance and covert flirtation.

You smiled at him sweetly before excusing yourself to go get some coffee from the kitchen downstairs.

“So, Agent Y/L/N, what has you thinking about Paris?”

You nearly choked on your coffee, turning to find Hotch leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and the hint of a smirk on his face. “I uh- Spencer’s drawing was- it’s just a lovely city,” you finished stupidly, cheeks warming. You would’ve rather dumped your scalding hot coffee on your body than admitted that the Eiffel Tower you were referencing was a structure made of men, not steel.

He reached past you to pick up the coffee pot, and your knees nearly buckled at the assault on your senses. He smelled like warm cinnamon and cologne and pure masculinity, an intoxicating mix that excited you in a different way than Jethro’s sawdust, coffee, and bourbon. You tried to calm your breathing, sure that he would hear it and be able to read your filthy mind. “I’m just- I need to- back to work!” you rushed out, narrowly slipping past him and back upstairs to the conference room.

Idiot, you chastised yourself. You sounded as dumb as the first time Jethro had gotten in your face the second week of your working at NCIS. You’d misfiled evidence which cost the team an extra day’s worth of work as the chain of custody had to be amended. Gibbs had crowded into your space, his steely blue eyes locked onto your warm chocolate ones, explaining how such a mistake could cost them an entire case one day and how you could not do it again, ever. Rather than responding with an intelligible apology or assurance that you’d never fuck up like that again because you had a brain and would be sure to use it, you merely eked out a breathy “Yes, sir,” that betrayed your true thoughts.

And the rest, they say, is history.

Later that night, the two team leaders decided that none of their agents would be helpful or intelligent enough to work this case without some sleep. You gathered your belongings from your desk and walked to the elevator, deciding that you would just meet Jethro at the car. You chatted with the BAU about their lives outside of work and found yourself thinking that cases with the FBI wouldn’t be so bad if you worked with these guys every time.

You could practically feel Gibbs, halfway across the bullpen, shudder at the thought.

“So where do they have you guys staying?” you asked, figuring that a drive back to Virginia at this time of night wouldn’t be wise.

“The Marriott down the road,” Derek answered smoothly, “if you’re looking for some company tonight, that is.” You laughed and shoved his shoulder, realizing that you got along so well with this guy because his annoyingly suave and flirtatious banter reminded you of Tony.

“An intriguing offer,” you teased, earning a smirk from Derek, “but I’m afraid my marine wouldn’t be too happy if he heard you say that.” You inclined your head to where Gibbs was still at his desk and Derek threw his hands up in mock defeat. Bidding them all good night as you parted ways in the garage, you got settled in Jethro’s truck and tucked your chin into your hand, closing your eyes for just a moment.

The driver’s side door opened and you sat up with a gasp, realizing you’d fallen asleep. “W’time is it?” you mumbled through a yawn, stretching your arms above you before wrapping them around your boyfriend’s neck.

“Just past midnight,” Gibbs murmured against your lips, and you hummed happily in response. “Let’s get you home and into bed.”

“And then?” you asked, hoping that your bratty antics today would earn you a punishment that brought more pleasure than pain.

“And then you sleep,” Jethro chuckled, eyes twinkling with mirth as he pulled out of the parking lot. You huffed out your annoyance and crossed your arms like a petulant child. You decided that tomorrow you would hunt down this marine-murdering son of a bitch singlehandedly if you had to, and then you would get a deliciously naughty night with your man.

Part II

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #aaron hotchner smut #jethro gibbs smut #Leroy jethro gibbs smut #hotchner x reader x gibbs

[sheriiam]

If You Will Have Me.

Pair: Ranveer Kashyap & Raghav Patil. Raghveer.

Word count: 4.7k words.

Fandom: Dancing on your Heartstrings. DOYH.

Setting: [right after chapter 15] Alternate universe where Raghav did not get into a fight with Ayush. (Tbh this ain't required you can put this in any timeline).

Dedicated to: my one and only tumblr best friend @a-really-hot-caterpillar

Raghav's pov

Raghav was waiting impatiently, tapping on the table with his nails. He had placed an order for chai 10 minutes back, and had called Ranveer 5 minutes before that.

No visible sign of either of the two.

He sighed and checked his phone and shot some quick texts to Ranveer. Ab aa bhi ja saale.

His heart thrummed at the idea of seeing Ranveer, of meeting the other at someplace outside the routine of their homes and dance studio. And for Raghav this was probably the worst place of all: a coffee shop. It was Ranveer who has recommended coming here. Mai jahan hoon uske kaafi paas hai, bas paanch minute mei I'll be there with you, he had said. Now Raghav was here, waiting since almost twenty minutes, waiting ki kab janab ke paanch minute khatam honge.

Well, at least his chai was here. He brought the newly brought steaming and took a sip. Ugh. Nothing like his mother's chai. Or Ranveer's mother's. Ranveer said it was the magic of mulethi. Nonsense. It was pure magic, regardless of the mulethi. As he drank his not-so-amazing-as-the-one-you-would-die-for chai, he wondered what Ranveer was doing in this area.

Raghav looked outside the cafe window. He could hear the annoying repetition of horns, and snippets of a blaring loud conversation between two men right outside. It was simple, loud, annoying yet very much full of life and vigor― so much like Ranveer.

Which brought him back to the question, what was Ranveer doing here?

Perhaps he came here to take college notes from a friend? Surely, they had missed a lot of classes owing to their dance practice. Or maybe he had to run an urgent errand? What could it be? Or― oh. Meet his... girlfriend? Um, of course he could, Ranveer was straight after all.

Raghav sighed and shook his leg. Shaant ho ja yaar. His feelings for Ranveer were definitely getting out of hand. "Kahan reh gaya ye―"

And cut. Words dried on Raghav's tongue tip as he heard the door to the cafe open and half-hopefully looked behind to see who had entered. He had done this thrice already, and everytime his eyes welcomed a stranger, but this boy in front of him... gods could he ever become a stranger to him? Even in the busiest of crowds with hundreds of people between them, Raghav felt certain he could find Ranveer if he had to.

He stared with wide eyes at Ranveer, who did not look how Raghav was used to seeing him. He was wearing a long, cream kurta and lousy flip flops, with a backpack slung on this shoulder which was― ye cham cham ki awaz kidhar se aa rahi hai? It took Raghav a second to realize Ranveer was probably carrying ghunghroo in his bag.

Okay so yes. Ghunghroo― and oh gods. As Ranveer came close and spotted Raghav, his eyes lit with cheerful recognition and he dashed to the table. That is when Raghav noticed the slightest hint of makeup on his face. Too subtle to notice, but too dangerous, fatally enticing, at the nearness they were sharing.

"Sorry," Ranveer said while taking deep breaths, "guruji se milke waqt ka pata hi nahi chalta."

Raghav looked at him breathlessly. Yes he had heard abour Ranveer's guruji― but the latter had said those days were left behind long back. Had he started taking lessons again? The thought of getting to see Ranveer with that tinge of makeup and alta― Oh. Alta.

Meanwhile Ranveer snapped his fingers to get him out of trance. And with a flinch, the sugar sachet kept next to him fell down. "I- I'll get it!" he stammered and bent down. Down there he smiled at himself for being such an idiot. Not because he dropped something, but because he did it intentionally. He picked up the sachet and gave a quick glance towards Ranveer's flip-flopped feet― and yes, they were lined in alta like his mother applied it during any festivity or fast.

"Did you fall asleep down there?" Ranveer asked from above. Raghav panicked, and in a hurry to get up hit his head with the corner of the table.

"Ouch ouch ouch!" he sat back and rubbed his head with his palm, his hair becoming a mess in the process.

"Let me see," Ranveer said with some seriousness and reached out from over the table and pressed with his fingers where he thought the injury was. Raghav winced but he let Ranveer's fingers linger in his hair locks. He turned red when he almost held Ranveer in place by the hand when the latter took his hand back. Almost. "Dhyaan rakhna chahiye na," he said, and oh his voice sounded so soft and concerned.

"Why are you dressed like... this?" Raghav asked, changing the topic. He couldn't handle so much in one go.

Ranveer laughed. "He wanted to meet me, I mean obviously. I don't remember a time when guruji wasn't fond of me," he said and smiled absentmindedly, looking at the table, "he runs a kala kendra nearby. Wahin bulaye the― bole senior ho, bacchon ko thora inspire bhi kar dena. To bas―" he gestured at himself― "that's why I look how I look. Man it's been a while when I had so many eyes fixed on me. It's weird, in a good way."

So when I have my eyes fixed on you, is that weird in a good way too? "Acha acha, isliye janab ko time lag gaya." And then Ranveer winked at him. He had the audacity to wink at him. Raghav wanted to wipe that cocky smile from his face, smudge his makeup a little― but Ranveer being the god-damn-divinity he was would still end up looking good.

Divine from head to toe.

Before Raghav had gathered enough wits to retaliate, Ranveer spoke up, and he said in the softest, most enchanting voices he had ever heard, "Kya dekh raha hai?"

Raghav's eyes widened. Oh shit. He was probably staring at him for long. He opened his mouth to justify himself, perhaps to even sarcastically flirt with him, when his world went black. 

"Huh? Uh," he blabbered, feeling the hands covering his eyes. They were cold, and Raghav thought he felt a ring on one of the fingers. And he probably heard Ranveer call his name with some surprise in his voice, but that was just his imagination. Suddenly the person behind him shifted and the hands on his eyes slipped away. He looked around, blinking hard, and saw what sent his heart racing with absolute fear.

Oh no no no―

"Hi, Raghav," the girl in front of him said and gave him a hug tight enough that he could launch his internal organs from his mouth.

"H-hi Bhanu. Ouch." He pushed the girl to a little distance, and smiled at her. He then turned his head to look at Ranveer, who was visibly controlling his laughter at Raghav's comically fearful expression. "Um, Ranveer, this is Bhanu, mamaji ki beti."

The presence of another person got her attention and she left Raghav to finally breathe. "Yes, we're cousins―" she turned her head to look at this other boy. A moment passed and she hadn't spoken again. Very unlike her, Raghav thought and titled sideways to look at her. Uh-oh. Bhanu was looking at Ranveer, but the look betrayed mere acknowledgement. It was a moment too late that Raghav understood what was going on in his cousin's mind.

"Hi, I'm Bhanu," she said and offered her hand.

Ranveer gently took it. "Ranveer," he said, "nice to meet you."

She looked at him with sugary sweetness. "You boys don't mind if I join you?" Ranveer protested that there was no objection of such sorts and pulled the third chair of their table for her. Raghav mentally winced― Ranveer was sometimes awfully polite to strangers, to people he would probably never meet again. It made a remarkable impression, indeed, but this isn't what Raghav needed right now. He could already see a circle of cupid arrows and hearts rotating around his cousin's head.

He didn't have anything against Bhanu, but it was safe to say she wasn't his favourite cousin at all. She was an only child like him, but much much more spoiled. Always liked to have her way― clung awfully tight to whomever she liked. Sometimes he thought of her, and compared himself with her. How different was she, after all? He too, was used to having his way on many instances. He too, was clinging onto Ranveer and was adamant on not letting go. He looked at the two giggling a little, and he realized the present most important difference between them: Ranveer could never like Raghav. Bhanu, he could.

"So," Bhanu said and Raghav's world shifted to reality, "Raghav baat karta hai mere baare mei?"

Now, one must know that there's just one way to answer this question. So Raghav looked at Ranveer with slightly pleading eyes, and Ranveer gave him an almost invisible nod of the head.

He smiled charmingly. "Obviously he does― who could not talk about you?"

Okay this is a little overkill. But Bhanu blushed. She blushed, great. "Really? What does he say?"

Raghav blinked hard. If he ever had to speak about Bhanu, what would he say? That she repeated 6th standard? That she occasionally stubbed her toe due to the crooked alignment of her refrigerator? That she drooled when she slept? Oh no. This was bad.

Ranveer looked at him for a second before answering. "Well, all good things, of course. Like- like tum gaati kaafi acha ho."

Okay, Raghav needed Doraemon and his bamboo-copter. He looked timidly at Bhanu from the brim of his chai mug that he had lifted up to his face. The girl was looking at the two of them with absolute confusion etched on her face. "I... Mai gana nahi gaati, Ranveer."

Ranveer looked almost alarmed when he turned to Raghav, and the latter just nodded for confirmation. He had never really heard Bhanu sing, except for the one time he was passing by from near the bathroom at his uncle's place and his ears had caught her jamming to some Bollywood song in the shower.

But Ranveer just smiled at them. A smile that could reassure Raghav even in the darkest days that anything could get alright. He said, "You don't? That's really surprising, Bhanu. Your voice is rather melodious."

Bhanu looked at him with a smile creeping up her face. And so did Raghav, with wide unblinking eyes. Whatever Ranveer was saying, it sounded coming out of politeness― Raghav knew him that much― but it sounded so good compared to the silence Raghav had always received.

Raghav had always shyed from giving compliments, but with Ranveer he knew when not to hold back. ...It would make you a little mad if you only peeked inside my soul, he had told Ranveer once. But when had Ranveer given him the chance to look into his soul, to search for answers in the depths of those beautiful eyes of his. For all he could remember, Ranveer had never complimented him beyond the professional confines of their studio. Not like it mattered... but still.

Raghav broke his thought chain and blinked back the thin ice layer of tears forming in his eyes. God forbid if somewhere were to understand what he was feeling. Ranveer was straight god damn. He would never―

Nevermind. Raghav gulped down his tea in one go. It wasn't that great anyways. But when he kept the mug down, he looked at Ranveer once again and he knew it was doomsday. The boy was rummaging through his bagpack, and strands of his hair were falling right in front of him. He didn't even care to fix it, gods. Raghav was sure not to make a sound― it would be so weird if Ranveer was to raise his head and look at him looking at him like this.

But Ranveer just kept smiling as he fished out a pocket notebook and pen, and Raghav wondered what all this was about. Bhanu was whispering something to him, and they giggled at their shared inside secret. Ranveer gave the notebook to his cousin who wrote something on it with a smile. When Raghav caught a glimpse, he realized she had written down her number with her name and a heart next to it.

"You know phone mei bhi contacts save ho jaya karte hain?" Raghav asked him.

Ranveer looked at him with a little surprise on his face as if he had forgotten that the boy was even with them. Ouch. But he kept his smile intact and said, "Phone se delete ho gaya toh?" He pointed at his notebook, "Isse nahi hoga."

Raghav grumbled, "Pracheen kahin ka."

Bhanu smacked him on the arm, and her eyes said, Don't be mean to him. Ranveer tapped the table to get his attention. "But look at you, still loving me and constantly being in the company of this pracheen boy." He then turned to Bhanu and stage whispered, "Mere ek baar bulane par itni durr milne chala aaya." Bhanu giggled.

Only his subconscious could register than Ranveer was blushing. His mind, though, was focused on controlling his own face and ears from turning red. "Aisa kuch nahi hai," he stammered, "I was just nearby toh aa gaya."

Ranveer rested his chin on his hand. "Your ears turn so red when you lie."

Oh shit, was his blushing that noticeable? He brought his hand to his ear to check if it was warmer than usual when he heard the other chuckle.

"You fall everytime for this," he said with a fondness Raghav couldn't decipher. He pulled his hand away from his ear. That's how it is with you too, he thought, I mean not to fall but end up crashing down everytime you look at me like that.

Deciding that he needed some time alone, he got up and excused himself to go to the restroom.

"Arey naraz ho gaya kya?" Bhanu joked. And what did Ranveer do?

Raghav felt a hand encircle his wrist from behind, and a shiver ran through him. He turned to look at Ranveer titling at a dangerous angle from his chair to hold him. Raghav stepped closer so that he wouldn't fall from his chair. He gave him an inquiring look, to which Ranveer just gave him a puppy eye look and said, "Pakka gussa nahi ho na?"

Oh how could he? How could he be mad if Ranveer was to look at him like this and tear his flesh and suffocate his ribs from within? Raghav slowly shook his head and managed a smile. Ranveer smiled back with relief. "Jaate jaate counter par mere liye ek chai ka order de do, please?"

Raghav couldn't help but laugh. Oh, Ranveer and his chai. He shook his head again. "Tujhe pasand nahi aayegi. Aunty ki mulethi nahi hai isme."

He felt for a moment as if Ranveer's grip on his hand tightened. It made no sense but Raghav wanted to give into his delusions. He looked at his wrist and back at Ranveer, who just smiled fondly and wobbled his head. And then he let go of Raghav. Just like that.

This time Raghav didn't look behind or wait for anyone to say something and he rushed to the public restroom and waited till Ranveer had to pull him out of there.

Ranveer's pov

Okay, Bhanu seemed nice, but he was slowly getting bored of their conversation. He nodded at her as she asked him a question and then went on rambling about some distant relative of hers who was trying to set her up with her son.

As if Ranveer cared. He was trying to be nice to her― probably way too nice since she was Raghav's cousin― but that's it. He didn't care beyond that. She offered him her number, he didn't refuse. Because there's no polite way to refuse. And he wanted to be nice to her because, whether Raghav liked her or not, she surely meant something to him. And Ranveer didn't have anything but heart eyes for anything that Raghav was fond of.

Like their dance. That day when Raghav had barged into his room and told him that they could have the world on knees for the two of them, Ranveer knew he couldn't simply refuse Raghav. Because Raghav was right. But most importantly because it was what Raghav desired.

Everytime Raghav choreographed a new step or practised even during breaks to improve the ones they already had, it did something to Ranveer. There was a dedication in Raghav's eyes, an ability to move like water― easy and carefree. It created such a paradoxical platheora in Ranveer's head he would sometimes wake up till late night tossing and turning in his bed and think about Raghav's easy-going nature and the sternness of the spark of in him.

There was a fire in the boy, one which could burn Ranveer if he let him. And Ranveer would sooner or later find himself drinking that fire like the waters of Plegethon. He indulged in those flames and had them ingulf him more than once. Every time Raghav held him to correct his posture during dance practices, Lord it made him dizzy.

Ranveer realized he hadn't been hearing Bhanu since a long time and had absolutely no context of what she was speaking. But before he could do something about it his phone chimed and his screen went bright, showcasing a single notification.

Raghav: need help. come here.

Ranveer excused himself immediately, earning a surprised look from Bhanu, and rushed to Raghav. He found the restroom and when he closed the door behind him, he found Raghav standing and leaning on the long basin counter.

Ranveer walked upto him and kept a hand on his back. "Raghav? Tu theek hai?"

Raghav didn't budge, and for a long moment Ranveer felt his presence unacknowledged. But then he finally spoke, "Do you like her?"

Huh? "Bhanu? You mean her―" everything suddenly made a lot more sense to Ranveer, and it was as if he had finally realized why Raghav looked so down the entire time. "Shit man. No no, it's not like that. I didn't know you'd have something against the two of us being a thing or something, but trust me it's not like that―"

Raghav laughed. He fucking laughed at that, and it sounded a bit on the verge of hysterics. "Whatever care do I have for it, Ranveer? Who am I to stop you from dating whom you want?" He spoke a bit more softly now. "Even if it's my cousin. And no I don't mind it... you dating her, I mean. That's not what I mind. In fact I do not mind anything actually!" Raghav ran his hand through his hair and kept it on his face for a moment.

Ranveer just looked at his side profile. "Oh but, surely, you do mind something―" he tried to turn the other towards himself but he didn't oblige― "Raghav look here. You look ill, oh Lord. There is something you aren't telling me. Something that's eating you from inside. Is it... Is it the competition?"

And Raghav laughed again, but this time it sounded much more pained. He finally turned to face Ranveer. "Everything's about the competition to you, right?" he asked. "Every thing, Ranveer. All you speak of, all you think of is the competition. Is there anything for you beyond this? Beyond the competition and the girls who flock around you?"

Girls? "Raghav?" Ranveer held him by the shoulder, "Raghav what the hell is this all about? What- what are you saying?" He hated how teary and scared he sounded at the end.

Raghav was already fighting back tears by now, and Ranveer pretended not to notice them despite the tingling in his fingers to cup his face wipe them for him. "Do- do we... Do we mean nothing to you?"

Ranveer stared at him blankly. "Who is we ? You and who else?"

Ranveer looked at Raghav as he lifted his shaking hand and pointed at the space between them. Ranveer just stared at him witless, unable to comprehend the array of emotions he was feeling. Suddenly a lot of beautiful words in an even more beautiful voice danced in the space between his ears.

Us, Ranveer. Raghav had told him. Surprisingly at this moment Ranveer could only remember that one phrase and aage peeche kuch nahi. You are magic to behold, Ranveer Kashyap. So that's what it was about.

"Raghav?" Nothing else came out of his mouth no matter how he tried.

The other wiped his tears on his sleeve. "Yeah, yeah, I know. This whole thing sounds weird to know. It wouldn't have been so weird if I was one of the many pretty girls who swoon over you." Ranveer felt the air between them charging with electricity as Raghav stepped closer to him. "But I'm not. I'm just another guy for you. Your dance partner Raghav. Difference is that I am in fucking love with you. You aren't."

Ranveer looked at him for a whole minute, reading the lines on his forehead, noticing his eyelashes, staring at his lips― basically doing anything but trying to understand the significance of those words. But then it dawned on him. Raghav liked guys. And Raghav liked him.

Ranveer breathed in shakily, and a whiff of Raghav's cologne was present in the air. "Love is a very strong word, Raghav."

Raghav didn't meet his eye. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then pressed it close, gulped, looked Ranveer in the eye one last time and dashed for the door.

Ranveer closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. What the hell was happening to him? "I don't love you Raghav," he called out behind him. When he heard the other stop moving, he turned to look at his back facing him, frozen. "I really don't. But heaven forbid if I haven't felt anything for you."

Raghav whipped his head back so fast it made Ranveer flinch. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew he had to make a move. Quick. "Raghav Patil," he whispered, "four syllables but they're enough to suck the air out of my lungs and make my ribcage collapse." He gulped when he felt his throat going dry. He walked upto Raghav. "If there's a flock of girls around me, then there's the whole campus talking about you. I hear it everyday, during my classes and outside them." He slowly took Raghav's hand in his own. "It hurts a little," he admitted.

There was a moment of silence between them. "Ranveer?" Raghav asked softly.

He looked up to find Raghav looking at him, his eyes urging him to lay his heart open in front of him once again. "I want to tell the world that you're mine. Not just as dance partners. I think I crave you a little more than that."

Ranveer sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think I am in love with you yet Raghav, but I really, really, like you. And I want to―" words died on Ranveer's lips when Raghav pulled him by his kurta and kissed him. Ranveer's first instinct was to bolt the door right behind them, and then he leaned into the kiss, finding Raghav's lips softer than any carnation petal. "You do have a pretty mouth," he said, quoting a conversation they had had long back.

When they broke the kiss, Raghav said, "This pretty mouth has even prettier words for you." He took a moment to breath and they looked at each other― hair dishevelled, face all red, lips parted and beautiful― and started to shake silently with laughter.

Ranveer looked at him, shy as he had always been. "C- can we do that again?"

Raghav bit his lip and smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, classical boy." And then kissed again, grabbing whatever inch of fabric they could get hold of. Ranveer could feel his knees buckling up but he kept holding onto Raghav for dear life. "I'll make you fall in love with me if I must," Raghav said in between the kiss, "if you'd want that."

Ranveer smiled, encircling the other in his arms. "I'd want anything as long as it comes from you."

Raghav looked at him for a moment. "Even ruined makeup?" he asked.

Ranveer's eyes widened as he ran back to the mirror and stared in horror at his slightly smudged lip tint and ruined eyeliner. "I should have agreed when they offered me smudgeproof lipstick and waterproof eyeliner. Lekin, nahi, hum to gadhe hain." And he started to laugh.

Raghav joined him and took out his handkerchief. "Looks like we have something to fix."

They spent a few minutes looking a little more presentable― it wouldn't have taken this much time if they didn't keep getting distracted by each other and convince themselves for a few more kisses. Which was not enough, by the way.

When they unlocked the door, they found a couple people waiting outside impatiently. They gave a sheepish smile and Ranveer dragged Raghav out of there.

Bhanu turend around to look at them. She was standing. "I thought you guys got lost or something. Where were you?"

"There was a... uh, problem we had to solve. Yeah," Raghav said, and Ranveer nodded.

She looked at them, still questioning things, but she let it pass. "It's getting late, mai chalti hoon." She gave Raghav a hug and a kiss on the cheek to Ranveer. She didn't notice the look the boys gave each other. "I'd love to meet you again, Ranveer."

Ranveer smiled. "Sure, me too."

Bhanu kept her hand on his arm. "Maybe this weekend?"

Ranveer looked at Raghav, who looked as if he would be anywhere but here, witnessing his classical boy getting flirted with by his cousin. He turned back to her. "I will have to check, because I was thinking of taking my boyfriend on a date this weekend. Maybe after that?"

Ranveer prayed Bhanu didn't hear the snicker that escaped Raghav's lips. She looked as if someone had slapped her. "Boyfriend?" she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Ranveer nodded, pressing his lips together to control his smile. Bhanu looked at him and then at Raghav, who just gave her an innocent look as if he didn't even know before now that Ranveer wasn't straight. Well it wasn't far from the truth after all, he thought.

Bhanu gave Ranveer one last look. "Don't hit on my cousin okay. He's straight," and with that she stormed out of the cafe.

Ranveer finally allowed himself to relax and laugh a little. "She's a concerned sister, Raghav."

Raghav nodded. "Too bad she's concerned for the wrong person." Raghav looked at him. "So, date this weekend huh?"

Ranveer took his hand. "With my boyfriend, yes."

Raghav looked at Ranveer's lips and the latter got the idea that he wanted to kiss Raghav the moment they got some alone time together. "I am not forgetting about this so you better plan something."

"Obviously I will, and I wouldn't want you to miss it," Ranveer said with a goofy smile, "you'd make a great third wheel."

"Huh? I'm hurt Ranveer Kashyap," Raghav placed a hand on his heart, "I thought you wanted to be with no one but me."

Ranveer pretended to think about this. "Haan, wo bhi sahi hai. But you aren't my boyfriend yet, you see." He hoped his voice sounded suggestive the way he wanted it to.

Raghav seemed to get the hint. "You want me to be your boyfriend?"

Ranveer looked out of the glass window and smiled as if he wasn't even aware of Raghav's presence. The presence which made him so joyful and content. "If you will have me."

Raghav kept a hand on Ranveer's and smiled.

Ranveer kept his other hand on Raghav's. "Well, in that case you wouldn't have to third wheel after all..."

#dancing on your heartstrings #raghav patil #ranveer kashyap #ranveer x raghav #DOYH

[distressedchinchilla]

Modern!genshin Dainsleif & Traveler au headcanons

READ TOP TEXT

K so I've been having a bit of a modern!genshin au brainrot where u have ReaderxSingleFather!Dain whos adopted the Lumi + Aether that are in high school so here are some headcanons for that :)

P.S. many ofsome of these aren't ReaderxDain they're just modern!au headcanons that would be a part of this universe :)

TW: Mentions of a car crash, parental neglect(not to reader, Dain, Aether, or Lumine tho)

*also its kinda longgg*

So lets pretend that you work in a cafe(yes ik another cafe au- very original but hang in there) across the street from where lumine and Aether go to school and you meet Dain when him and Aether come to pick up Lumine from her part time job at your place

You've already kinda started to look after Lumi in a little sister/niece kinda way then one day some v e r y attractive man come in with Aether and is introduced as their adoptive dad.....

.....H o l y S h i t

When I say the adrenaline/endorphin rush you had from the eye contact almost made you pop a circuit like a toaster in a bathtub I mean it-

He's V polite the entire encounter if a little dry-humored but you guys left off on a good note

He eventually starts "Visiting Lumine" at her job and picking her up at the end of her shifts to drive home even though their house is a short walking distance away

You also notice that even though he seems to have his adoptive daughters work schedule memorized he also always seems to come just a bit too early to chat(but he only talks w/you when there's little to no customers bc he knows you have a job to do)

The siblings lowkey ship after the first interaction....

And eventually....

Aether is gets a job at your place as well but strangely enough some "outside forces" in the siblings own personal schedules have conspired to give him staggered work times with Lumine rather than have them work at the same time...

This makes it so that Dain has to visit the cafe 2x as often to pick up his tiny cupid gremlins

You learn that Aether has a tiny yet loud all white corgi with a peach collar named Paimon that has a fear of water after she fell in a lake as a puppy

Some of the other hs students that also work at you cafe are Xiangling, a favorite of the customers, Diona, who you once caught trying to spit in drink order(It didn't work bc the spit kept falling back onto her lip or shirt), and Gaming who you're pretty sure has at least 2 other jobs than yours and does community service

All your tiny employees get along :)

You learn a lot more about Lumine and Aether's school life as well as the others as time goes on

Some of the most popular teachers and adults on campus seem to be:

Math teacher "Madam" Faruzan, who's a bit too strict on rules

AP World History Teacher Zhongli(who has infamously deadly long and boring lectures yet all his students pass with a B or higher)

Biology Teacher Alhaitham, who keeps 2 Giant Sulawesi snails in his classroom named Aranara and Ararycan, named by his preschool age adopted daughter Nahida, who he took in after his friend, Nahida's adult older sister died in a car crash.

He's also that one teacher that intentionally edits wiki pages so he knows when his students bs their papers....

Graphic Design Teacher Kaveh, that's engaged to Bio teacher Alhaitham and is considerably more laid back than his Fiance

They clearly love each other very much despite how much they bicker

The 2 gym teachers Kayea and Diluc who seem to have formed a rivalry and regularly pit their classes against each other in dodgeball matches(A boy named Bennett always seems to be tagged out first, and always headshot no less)

Principal Ningguang and Vice Principal Jean(who always seems to be overworked)

The only person more overworked than VP Jean is the school counselor Katheryne

Carpentry Teacher Xianyun who has two daughters of her own, Ganyu- who always sleeps in class no matter how much caffeine she drinks before hand, and Shenhe who has the highest max in weight lifting

AP Gov. teacher Neuvillette, who is apparently very popular despite the fact he gives the most detentions out of all the other teachers

Substitute drama teacher Furina who's a long term sub for the official Drama and Dance teacher Ms. Focalors

Nilou, the long term substitute for the Dance Team

Security guards Wriothesly and Dehya, who both once got an earful from Principal Ningguag for holding an arm-wresting tournament among students...

AP Music Theory teacher Venti, who's that one teacher that grades solely off how well he vibes with the students and not actual assignments

Librarian Lisa, who has amassed a collection of romance genre books more than any other in her workspace

Cyno, the English teacher with allllllll the dad jokes in the book(and has probably written his own pun book that he tells to the class)

Chemistry teacher Tighnari who has to constantly knock on the doors of other teachers classrooms to keep the noise level down since everyone knows the walls of school building are paper thin and he may just be slowly going deaf bc of it

Some of their peers include:

Amber, who was the first to befriend Lumine and Aether when they first started high school, despite being a grade higher than the siblings and having exactly 0 classes with them

Razor, a foreign exchange student that doesnt talk much but is best friends with Bennett(the dodgeball loser than manges to trip over anything, even the things that aren't there), and Fishcl, who's real name is Amy but hasn't let go of her imaginary childhood world yet(and good for her tbh)

Hu Tao, that one goth kid that used to tell all the others that "Ring-Around-the-Rosy" was about the black death during recess back in elementary school

Kunikuzushi, who has lesbian moms, Ei and Yae, as well as a younger sister, Raiden, who's still in middle school. He was neglected as a kid bc his biological mother, Ei favored his sister over him. He's very edgy but surprisingly doesn't get along with the other goths, Hu Tao, and a kid named Xiao

Xiao, who's a teachers pet to no one but Mr. Zhongli who fostered him as a child

Lyney and Lynette, who's favorite class is Drama, despite their frequent terrorizing of the substitute teacher, Furina, at their insistence that it's all because they want Ms. Focalors to return sooner

Albedo, who's highly introverted except in his debate club with a sole soft spot for his sister Klee(in kindergarten) and their mother Alice, a flight attendant who's not around much but calls every(and yes I do mean every night) night to check in via facetime to ask see if Albedo's making friends and to read ebook children's stories to Klee :)

Yoimiya, who was once given detention for an entire school quarter bc she set off a whole mess of fireworks on the football field

The ever rich Kamisato siblings who made the choice to go to a public school, rather than Snezhnaya, the rich Northern school across the way that has a principal even stricter than Ningguang, Faruzan, and Neuvillette combined, so harsh that her students have given her the name "Tsaritsa"........

please give me constructive criticisms on my hcs :) id love to know if you want a follow up for only school life or only romantic headcanons but it might take me a bit to get back on it :) (but please no nsfw)

#genshin #dainsleif #lumine #aether #modern!genshin au #hopefully this hasent been done b4 #genshin impact #someone plz make this a fic and tag me #readerxdainsleif #paimon #genshin highschool!au

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part XVII

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on wattpad or read previous parts here

Word Count: ~4000

Warnings: none:)

This chapter took me ages to write! But it ended up being quite a fun one. Hope you enjoy <3

---

“I can’t believe the boys actually wanted to go to a club,” I said from the passenger seat of Josh’s Jeep. Although it wasn’t a super long drive to get to the city and to see our kinsmen again, I was glad for the break in the harsh winter weather that made the journey smoother–instead of the ice-slicked and snow-covered roads we’d been struggling to get used to again, the highway was clear and dry, the snow kept to the sidelines. The woods lining the interstate were still coated in a seemingly perpetual layer of white which seemed to sparkle a bit with the rare and warm sunshine, the sky a wall of gentle blue and sparse clouds, the sunlight strong through the windshield. I was actually beginning to feel too warm with the heat from the vents and the sunshine licking my skin, bundled up with anticipation of the worst. You never knew when things might change. But underneath my coat, I was already in my “going out” outfit–a midnight blue sequined top with a deep v neckline that was slightly itchy on the inside but not enough for me to sacrifice it, a black skirt and matching sweater tights to complete it. Sequined black heels too, which made me notably taller than Josh, which he seemed to actually love. 

“It is a little surprising,” Josh agreed, also dressed in his New Year’s Eve celebration outfit–gray, almost silvery, pants and a matching jacket, a white shirt underneath, all topped off with a mixture of silver and gold jewelry. I figured we’d both be sparkling quite a lot throughout the night. “Then again,” he continued, turning down the heat after he saw me close one vent. “I think they’re always riding on the high of a much busier life these days. Going out to a whole myriad of places is more natural for them now.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” I looked out the window again, following the treeline with my eyes, imagining how much fun those three boys must have after their shows. Josh and I heard a lot about those nights, sure, but it would be so different to be a fly on the wall. Or to actually be there.  

“Jane didn’t wanna drive down with us?”

“She’s already there,” I said with a laugh, pulling out my phone to check again for texts from her, though I had a feeling there would be none. “She drove down yesterday.”

“Oh, they had a sleepover?”

“Yes. Imagine that.” Yup–no texts. I clicked my phone shut. “I’m assuming it all went well since she hasn’t texted me at all. Did Jake text you?”

Josh chuckled. “Nope. And why isn’t Bev joining us tonight?”

“She’s got another party to go to.”

Josh gave an exaggerated, offended scoff. “Would this other party be better than spending the night with us at a club called Pearl, drinking overpriced champagne and smoking all of Sam’s weed?”

I laughed. “I think she just doesn’t wanna hang out with Sam, honestly.”

I saw Josh’s lips twist a little. “Ouch.”

“No, no, it’s not like she hates him or anything,” I assured him. “I think she’s still attracted to him but knows he’s not interested anymore. So it’s easier for her to take a step back.”

“You think that or she told you that?”

“She told me. More or less.”

“Well,” Josh said, shifting in the driver’s seat. “That makes me a little sad. Bev is great. Is this going to make their places in the wedding awkward?”

“She assured me that it won’t,” I told him and, for once, I actually really wasn’t worried about it. “She’s hell-bent on finding some hottie at her party tonight and bringing them home.” 

“Oh, is that right? I hope she achieves her goal.”

I reached over to briefly toy with his earring. “What’s our goal tonight, Josh?” 

He giggled and swung his head to the side to evade my intentionally ticklish touch. “Our goal, my darling, is to get absolutely wasted and have the best time ever.”

“Which we will be doing again in like, two and a half weeks.” I shuddered, not from any slight chill in the car but from the anticipation. “At our wedding.” 

“So?”

I smiled, using Josh’s own smile at me to turn the nervous anticipatory energy into unbridled excitement. “So let’s do it.”

-

Pearl lived up to its name which, in my own naivety, I hadn’t expected. Then again, I should have known that Sam especially would only go to a club he passionately approved of, which meant it wasn’t going to be a cesspool or anything even remotely close to “subpar.” Still, I hadn’t been prepared for the slick white light, the shimmering waves illuminating a glossy, excited crowd, hot, scantily clad bartenders and servers passing out colorful cocktails in slim glasses, and certainly not the very not Sam music, which was pulsating and electric. The sound felt like it was vibrating through my bones as the entire lot of us made it past the exceptionally well-dressed bouncer and headed toward the bar.

The place was packed despite it being early. It wasn’t even half past nine, yet a throng was caught up at the bar, some people leaning over the counter in desperation while some stood back, shoulders straight and taut, eyeing the bartenders with impatience and contempt.

“I’ve never been to a club where so many people were actually dressed up,” I noted to no one in particular while I surveyed the people squishing against our group. Even the people who didn’t look fancy were sparkly enough to make up for it. 

“How many clubs have you even been to, girlie?” Sam asked, a cheeky smile on his face while he stayed close to Danny, who was one of the people leaning over the bar. The two of them were dressed up–Sam was in silky, shiny creamy fabrics with a bold pop of red from his jacket, while Danny was in black and indigo. I could even see faint traces of black eyeliner around Danny’s long lashes–oh, how things had changed. 

“This makes two,” I told him, earnestly proud of that fact. 

Danny fell back into line with all of us and said, “It’s gonna be an eternity before we get drinks. Should you guys find us a table or something?”

“Yeah, what exactly are we doing here?” I asked, trying to peer past the crowd ahead of me for spare tables. There were people sitting on the edges of the club, but on free-standing stools, not tables, and with my strained leering I could see a dimly lit hallway that piqued my curiosity. I tugged on the sleeve of Sam’s jacket and asked, “What’s back there?”

“Actual tables,” he told me, giving Danny a shove to get him struggling for the bartender’s attention again. “There’s also a big patio out back.”

“There’s also another bar in there,” Jake said, tilting his head and looking at Sam with his eyebrows raised. “So why don’t we try that?”

“Tag team it,” Sam suggested, lifting his arms to gesture out at the hallway and back behind himself at the bar. “Us here, you back there.” 

“And WE will find all of us a table,” Josh added, linking his arm with mine. 

“My god,” I said, too quiet to be heard over the music while Josh and I navigated through the crowd, Jake and Jane just a few steps ahead of us. I raised the volume of my voice to say, “What do you think about this place?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Josh called back to me, pivoting to avoid being elbowed by a man shoving his way past us to, presumably, get to the bar. “Visually, I don’t dislike it. The music, however, I’m not sure about.” 

I wasn’t either. The fast beats that had been laced with electric pop sounds had been replaced with what sounded almost like strange, electronic remixes of goth metal songs. “It’s like whiplash,” I had to shout back to Josh. 

The dark hallway was lit with strings of fake pearls, all dripping from black wires that almost entirely disappeared into the walls, and then we were in an even larger room where there were indeed tables. I sighed with relief–the space was marginally quieter, though the same songs filtered in my eardrums, and the bar was entirely visible. I watched Jake take Jane’s hand and zig-zag through the other patrons to reach it as I cleared my throat, the air so full of so many different colognes and perfumes, smoke and sweat, everything dry and dank at once. 

With the volume of the music so loud, Josh and I resigned to sitting next to each other in mostly silence, primarily communicating with facial expressions and hand gestures–a sour face from me when a man in a pleather jacket and way too much Axe body spray walked by, which made Josh sniff after the man and laugh hard into my side. The wait for drinks continued, and Josh’s eyebrows lifted and his lips parted in awe while he pointed at two girls headed to the bar, one in a purple sequined mini dress and the other in a longer, flowy, glittery teal dress. 

“Matching!” Josh said, leaning against my shoulder to get right at my ear. “Kind of.”

I nodded, my eyes following the shift of those purple sequins until the girls disappeared into the sea of people, then caught a glimpse of red and black headed our way–Sam and Danny, respectively. 

“My fucking god,” Sam said loudly as soon as he was within six inches of our table. He set down a try of six shots that he’d been carefully cradling the entire way as Danny set down a separate tray holding four different cocktails. 

“It’s nice that they gave you trays,” I noted, tapping the one holding the shots which was all iridescent and cream colored. “So fancy.”

“You didn’t get Jake and Jane drinks?” Josh asked, scanning the tray of cocktails that all looked unfamiliar. “What are these anyway?”

“Different house cocktails,” Danny said, pointing at each one as he explained them. “This red one is called something like ‘Cherry Divine.’ I think it has amaretto in it.” He pointed at a bubbly, almost clear drink with a strawberry garnish in a shorter wine glass. “This one has champagne in it but I can’t remember what else.” 

Sam shoved those two at Josh and I, clearly ready to get on with it, and took the last two for himself and Danny. “Okay, yeah, drinks,” he said with a huff, running one hand through his hair. He picked up a shot for himself and gestured at the tray. “Let’s do shots already.”

“Wait, wait,” Danny said, laughing, and grabbed Sam’s arm. “We have to wait for Jake and Jane.” 

“There they are!” Josh said victoriously, standing up and waving an arm out at the pair headed toward us, another tray of shots in Jake’s hands and another tray of cocktails in Jane’s.

“Long wait,” Jake needlessly explained as he lifted the tray of shots over his head while shoving past a different couple going in the opposite direction. With a deep sigh, he set it down once he was finally at the table and Jane set her tray down in tandem, then they both looked incredulously over the four trays holding the copious amounts of alcohol.

“So are we gonna do all these shots right now?” Jane asked with a laugh, sitting down across from me, the silver and purple glitter in her fine, tulle-like top catching the light. 

Jake sat down next to her and finally Sam and Danny joined in their own chairs, the table bouncing a bit as Sam slid in too hard. “We really should,” he said, already reaching for two of the shots. He and Josh were actually the least sparkly and shiny of us all, with Jake taking a little note from Danny with his all-black ensemble. “I’m feeling fairly desperate for a cigarette now.”

“Me too,” Josh echoed, passing me a shot next. I sniffed the clear liquid, discovered it was tequila, and grimaced. Josh just laughed and said, “You’ll need one too after this, won’t you?”

Twelve shots down the hatch, two for each of us, most of us wincing with each one; we sipped our cocktails as chasers and sat there amongst the excitable crowd, all of us turning our heads one direction, then the next, to take in the atmosphere. 

New Years always felt strange. There was so much expectation, but for what? Josh and I tried–and succeeded, honestly–to make the best of it every time it came around. The harsh, dark, bitter cold winters ended up being no match for a rowdy night full of multiple bottles of champagne, loud music, card and board games and the inevitable midnight kiss which always led to sloppy, fun, giggly drunk sex. This year was the first in a couple years we’d gone out, although last year we had also ended the night with not just the two of us. 

Looking away from the strangers and back to all my friends–my new family–I began to wonder what next year’s celebration would look like. There had been a night recently where I’d been texting Danny, mostly about wedding stuff but also about band stuff, and the latter proved to be more interesting–I’d known how talented all the boys were and I’d seen their success grow more and more over time, but I hadn’t known just quite how serious it was becoming. Danny wouldn’t tell me details–he swore that he couldn't–but apparently big things were happening. Bigger than all the other big things that had happened. And with the sudden onset of a wicked buzz in my head from the shots and somehow downing half my cocktail without even realizing it, my mind lingered on the mystery and the trepidation that came along with it more than I cared for.

“Is anyone feeling daring enough to dance?” Josh asked, scanning each and every one of us with bright, mischievous eyes. 

“Can anyone dance to this?” Danny asked, tilting his head, eyes looking up. “I don’t even know what I’m hearing.”

“I’m gonna need a few more drinks before that happens,” Jane said, and I voiced my agreement.

“Patio?” Jake offered, gesturing to the vague backdrop where the patio must have been waiting, and was probably just as congested as the inside of the club.

“Are we really ready to risk losing our table?” I asked, though I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to stay in any longer once the music changed yet again. The bass was even louder than earlier, aggressive and juxtaposed by swooping, high-pitched vocals. Maybe later on they’d start playing more familiar tunes. I turned to Sam and asked, “You chose this club? May I ask why?”

“Okay, alright, the music absolutely sucks ass,” Sam agreed, lifting his cocktail. “But the drinks are good, it’s busy, it’s kind of cool. Sue me for wanting us all to do something different for the new year.” 

“No one’s gonna sue you, but I do really want to see you dance now,” I told him; Josh smiled and gave an enthusiastic nod while Jake snickered behind his drink. “You know, to make up for it.”

“I would also like to see you get down with these strange, terrible songs,” Danny chimed in, nudging Sam with his elbow. 

Sam roped an aggressively affectionate arm around Danny’s waist and brought their faces close together. “Only if you do it with me. You’re the one with all the moves.”

The patio out back was less crowded but still full of life, although most people had covered up their festive outfits in favor of jackets and coats to shield against the cold. Some brave girls didn’t cover up at all and I wondered how they were standing out there without, at the very least, shivering violently. 

The city street in front, mostly devoid of trees, sent wind hurtling back to us but the vague sort of tree-lined courtyard behind the fence–also covered with string lights of fake pearls and tiny, glittering white stars–shielded us a bit from the other wall of cold air. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself and Josh pressed himself to my side. My hand that was holding my drink was already becoming frigid and a little stiff; I went to put the other in my coat pocket but Josh grabbed it and held it, his hand warmer while he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles for a few seconds, then he let me go to fish for his cigarettes while Jake pulled out his own and Sam whipped out a joint.

No one else around us cared about what we were doing or who we were–while I shared that American Spirit with Josh, I wondered to myself if Jake, Sam and Danny were reveling in their anonymity. Someday, they might not have much of it. But tonight, we were all strangers to the rest of the club-goers, just another posse looking for a good time and to ring in the new year with lights, glitter, alcohol, smoke and that excitement that some people like to say only comes once a year. Meanwhile, I was sure I felt those butterflies, the anticipation, the bundle of buzzing sparks every day with my sweetheart, who stayed close to my side and whose fingers brushed against mine each time we passed the cigarette back and forth. 

We smoked; we drank; we danced. Danny really did have the moves, I was reminded of again–I hadn’t seen any of the boys dance in so long that I couldn’t stop laughing with pure delight when Danny was the first to get out on the dance floor and force himself to jive with the music. I watched Sam watching him, then he swept out to meet his best friend and long, gangly limbs moved alongside Danny’s more built ones; it didn’t take long for Jane to pull Jake along by the hand, giggling enough for him to laugh too, and Josh and I watched them all until the song changed. Then he was doing the same thing–grabbing my hand and yanking me into the crowd, into the circle of our very best companions, while the clocks around the Eastern time zone ticked minute by minute into the night, while everyone forgot all the bad things that had happened in the past twelve months.

Pearl had their own ball to gradually drop in the last minute of the night and, of course, it looked like a huge, shiny, opalescent pearl. It twirled in the air, sparkling in the lights from the extra layer of jewels and sequins coating it, as some people kept dancing, ignoring it, some kept dancing while watching it with their heads tilted up and fixed in the same direction, while some people stopped entirely to focus their full attention on it. It was a mixed bag in our group–Sam and Danny kept dancing as if the ball didn’t exist. Jane and Jake swayed together slowly, side by side, watching the molasses-slow drop, as if the music was something gentle and light. Josh gathered me in his arms and swayed us together too, my back pressed to his front, and I had a hunch we were both imagining the giant fake pearl as the moon outside–the moon that would ascend, not fall, on both, on all, of us in just a few more nights. 

Despite the club being more or less a total mass of strangers, most people all chimed in together for the final ten second countdown of the ball drop. Sam and Danny did too, which prompted the rest of our group to join, all of us so drunk and stoned that every second of camaraderie felt like part of a huge, profound mission. In a way, I think it was–getting through any year was a feat every person should celebrate. 

I felt an excited sort of trembling in my bones, my eyes wide and too clear given the amount I’d drank as I followed the descent of that opalescent orb hanging overhead like it really was the moon. The moon displaced, an artificial but still significant moon that had been created just for us, for all of us who danced, laughed and consumed beneath it. 

When the chanting of counting became a roar of nearly synchronized cheers, before Josh spun me around, I saw Sam grab the sides of Danny’s face and pull him into a shocking, searing kiss. My own laugh in response at what I’d witnessed caught in my throat, a hand flying up to my mouth; I saw a flash of dark hair that I knew was Jake going in to kiss Jane, then Josh was in front of me as my mind went dizzy for a moment. But when he pressed us back flush together, facing each other this time, and his mouth met mine. I blinked into velvet darkness and felt like we were the only two people in the universe for a brief, blissful moment.

-

“So…” I began, slurring the single word, while Josh and I were undressing in Danny’s room. Now even more unsurprisingly, he and Sam had volunteered to share Sam’s room and leave us in Danny’s, and I had saved this juicy gossip until Josh and I were alone. It hadn’t seemed like the best thing to bring up with all six of us crammed into an uber on the way back to the boy’s house, although even in the dark confines of that SUV, Sam and Danny hadn’t hidden touches of their hands and the pressing together of their thighs. 

“So..?” Josh countered with a sly smile at me not having finished my thought. He stumbled as he tried to take his pants off, helplessly hopping around on one foot until he careened over to prop himself up with the edge of Danny’s bed. 

“So,” I began again emphatically, raising my eyebrows at Josh while I unzipped my skirt. “Did you see what Sam and Danny did when the ball dropped?”

“I caught a glimpse,” Josh replied with a chuckle, then a grunt of effort as he struggled to kick his pants all the way off. “Given how things have been going for a while, can’t say I’m surprised. Anyway, who doesn't want to kiss Danny?”

I laughed and nodded. “Totally, right? But yeah, not surprised, just surprised to see it, I think.” Standing in just my bra, tights and underwear, I grabbed my overnight bag to rummage through. The pajamas I’d packed felt luxuriously soft, comforting and inviting against my fingers, the electric energy of our celebration night dwindling into the usual drunken sleepiness.

“Everyone’s pairing off!” Josh said with a dramatic flair of his voice and a dramatic whipping off of his shirt to the floor. “What are we going to do?”

I laughed, tossing him his own pajamas from his bag. “Who do you think will get married next?” 

“I can’t even think about that.” Josh stripped down to nothing at the same time I did. “I almost didn’t remember you and I were getting married until just now.” 

I let out a loud laugh while the soft cotton brushed over my chilled skin. “You’re a little liar. I’ve thought about it a lot tonight, actually,” I told him, looking away from his nude form to find my travel toothbrush. “It was a really enchanting night. I didn’t expect it–not with the music and the club being, like, what it was.”

“It was a great night,” Josh agreed, achieving a little more balance while he got his PJ pants on. “Now it’s a new year–what are we gonna do with it?”

I paused at the bedroom door, toothbrush in hand, head and heart thumping: “We’re gonna get married and we’re gonna have the time of our lives.”

---

Tagging:

@sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @jjwasneverhere @gvfrry

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #josh kiszka x reader #rfs #gvf fanfiction

[fear-is-nameless]

Antimatter

From the spellbook in Argentum Inanis;

IRIS = Antimatter

But what exactly is antimatter?

(It’s complicated).

In the 1920′s, scientists were figuring out an equation to go with the theory of relativity (E=mc²; mass transforms into energy/ energy into mass) to describe the behavior of an electron moving at a high speed.

They succeeded. But this new equation could have 2 solutions; 1 for an electron with negative energy & the other an electron with positive energy. The conclusion is for every particle there exists a corresponding anti-particle that's an exact match & behaves identically, but with an opposite charge.

The theory is matter & antimatter existed in equal amounts after the Big Bang. However, if true, as soon as each atom connected to its’ twin counterpart, they should’ve obliterated each other into pure light energy. It’s thought there was ever slightly more matter for unbalance, but that (& why antimatter’s so rare) is a mystery.

So, what does this mean for Anti?

It shows more of his persona- deeper than just “Jack’s evil ego”.

Think about it; particles that behave in the similar way but with the opposite charge. His text is zalgo. His speech is electronic/ layered. His movements unnatural, glitchy & spontaneous. He distorts reality itself at his height of power. 

He is broken in our world. It’s not by his own choice, but what he’s created from & existing in a universe that can’t support him.

Also, it explains some destructive traits. Antimatter is extremely unstable; any contact with its’ twin counterpart would be instant annihilation for both-

into an enormous amount of pure energy. Maybe Anti has the scale tipped in his favor to not be destroyed himself permanently, or he’s a lesser form of antimatter all together. But that potential energy. Can Anti harness it? Is that how time travel is possible or why time is broken at all?

If he really is a fractured entity misplaced in this world, maybe that’s why he’s willing to lash out;

To make everyone else suffer for his own existence ?

In KJSE, Anti kept saying that “there are no strings on me”, how he's “in control” & “this is MY world!”. Almost as if he wants that stability (no matter how to get it), that normality, & that's why;

But how? How do we help someone so unhinged, violent & constantly tearing apart the fabric of reality? Or can we only watch?

Finally, I’m curious about IRIS = Antimatter.

I wondered if it was an acronym as it’s all capitalized, but (at this time) I couldn’t find anything 6/22 update; it is an acronym! I also think of the the colored band of an eye around the black pupil.

That thought alone brought back a lot of old theories. How often we’ve been told to keep watching, even though in the very same spellbook (& vid description/ title at one point) said DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT. How eyes (even Jacksepticeye/ Sam, the channel logo) are like reflective surfaces, not unlike mirrors. 

And Anti’s been making said eye contact with US since the start.

Perhaps our attention is still something he needs, as he knows we’ll never stop watching.

But... Why is this sidenote, “IRIS = Antimatter” in the spellbook in the first place?

Why was Marvin researching this? What exactly is he looking for? I know the video’s short, but he didn’t seem to take the warnings seriously (use with caution, inform an AIMC immediately! DON’T make eye contact) he still touched the orb. Yes, he was startled to see those images, but that same vortex also appeared at the end-

..... Marvin, despite the risks, either intentionally or by accident,

what have you DONE?

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #antimatter #spooky magic 10/2020 #really curious for your guys' input

[ijustreallylovethem]

Luca fixing everything with Halle

he doesn’t call right away. he takes some time to think about everything. then he sends her a text.

i’m really sorry about all of this. can i please call you?

she responds with a yes and he takes a deep breath before clicking the button.

“hi.”

“hallie, i’m sorry. i know i overreacted a bit but i just-“ he sighs. “izzy told me that whatever you’re hiding from me is because it’s her secret. so i understand why you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

“i don’t like keeping this from you, luca. i need you to know that.”

“i understand that now, i do.”

“i do trust you and i want you to be able to trust me too. this is the only thing i’ve intentionally kept from you.”

“look, when we get back to michigan i’ll take you out to make up for all of this, i promise.”

“you better.”

“are we okay?” he asks nervously. she takes a moment.

“yeah. we’re okay.”

#luca x hallie #raegan talks about blurbs #luca fantilli

[kiliinstinct]

The Colosseum: Chapter 2

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Pairing: Nalu Rating: M

An update? To this fic? Sacrilege! How dare I update this after the years I've left it untouched? I promised I'd update it this year and update it I have! Also, thank @genavere for me. She beta'd this.

The funny thing here is the opening to this was literally done a week after I posted the last chapter. I can't believe it took me so long to get the rest of it. Whoops.

Note: There is a “different language” being spoken here. I wont make a translation key- as, I’ll be trying to detail what needs to be understood in the writing itself. The language used is not created by me, but is a Draconian Text used for some Dungeons and Dragons game.  Warning: This story is going to be the darkest thing I've ever wrote- but this chapter is tame. For the most part.

---

 ‘Tir ti enel-’

Princess Hisui had yet to learn the translation, but felt it had to be a form of insult. An exhausting week passed since she first visited the imprisoned Draconians, and despair settled deep in the Princess’ bones. All attempts to speak to the couple ended the same: the blonde silent and staring while the male growled and repeated the same phrase again and again.  

She recalled Faust mentioning the girl knew the common tongue and heard her speak it once--for a brief moment. Hisui hoped she would hear it herself, possibly ask if the girl the Emperor named ‘Lucy’ could translate and speak on the couple’s behalf. 

No such luck. 

All attempts at conversation failed, and Hisui changed her tactics to something more direct than talk: Action.  When she was permitted to see them, under the guise of study and curiosity-- she ordered her men to carry small items the two could use.

Usually it was food, stolen from the tables at supper or the pantries when her own guards dared to mingle with the cooks. Other times, fresh water, bandages, and, one time, even blankets. None of which were enough to be noticeable. Faust’s men didn’t check on them nearly enough, but any bit they were able to gather was far better than the rags that covered their stone beds and the scraps that had been deemed ‘meals.’ The Fioran Princess had yet to see if these small gifts helped. She worried they ignored the given food, but hoped it would, in the end, earn their trust. Even if just a little. 

‘Tir ti enel!’

The man - Natsu, he was called, yes?- merely kept repeating himself no matter her efforts.  Today, she considered giving up and stop risking the tentative peace. There were bigger worries to focus on than two slaves, and perhaps being left alone was  what he wanted, she mused.

Halfway up the stone steps, disheartened by the lack of progress she had made with them, she tried to stop her dismal thinking. As the heir and daughter of the Fiore throne, she would face greater challenges than this. It did not matter if they wished for solitude, freedom was what they deserved. A Fiore was just as stubborn as a Draconian, and made of a strong will, too.

Gathering her confidence, she took in a deep breath and counted to ten. A few more breaths and her will was set once more. She turned back, determined to try again with more fervor. They would have to accept her at some point, right?  She hoped her stubbornness wouldn’t lead her to a fool’s errand. 

They had already begun to eat their next gifted meal. A surprising amount of Natsu’s portion had been passed through the bars to cover Lucy’s plate and with it, another blanket. He seemed to intentionally give most of his commodities to his partner, keeping only a little for himself.  And while this sight was heartbreaking to Hisui, she also recognized it for what it truly was: a good sign. Could she consider that progress?

Another step closer and the male froze in position, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. He tilted his gaze back to her and hissed low, spitting the phrase out in a mantra. 

Hisui steeled herself, she wouldn’t back down, not this time,  “I apologize, but I still don’t know what that means.”

Hisui hoped that maybe enough mention towards their obvious language barrier would lead to one of them explaining. But he only rolled his eyes in response. 

When he moved in front of the small window of his cell, the scales along his skin glimmered, reminding her of his heritage.  She wondered at Lucy’s scales, having barely glimpsed them during their debut battle. In comparison to the red that dotted Natsu’s skin, hers were lacking in luster, blending in with her skin. She wanted another glimpse, perhaps another chance to learn, but the woman was unwilling to move into the light. She kept herself shielded in the shadows, or against the wall of their joined cells, hands clasped in his.

It was…Tragic. 

There was no better word. Many could be said, but tragedy covered all in a neatly packaged bow. One she wished she could unwrap and return to the sender. 

They didn’t deserve this. To be locked up. Forced to fight. Away from their home: their friends and family– they had more than just themselves, yes?

Hisui chewed on one of her painted nails, ignoring the taste as she observed them.  What more could be done? If she freed them of her own volition, war could be declared between the Empire and Her Kingdom. 

Fiore was not in a position to handle war. Not now. Not against Faust. Helping them escape was the best option, but one Hisui couldn’t do. Not directly. Her people depended on her: Were depending on her. If she didn’t secure this alliance, everything could go belly up within a few years. 

That or her father would be forced to send her off to marriage, locked behind protocol and politics to serve as another man’s trophy. While nothing like the situation the blonde Draconian was in, Hisui felt a surge of empathy.  Anything, but that. She despised the thought of a marriage of convenience. Her father ruled the Kingdom just fine on his own, and while she would be the future Monarch, Hisui was confident in her abilities to do the same.

But if it meant the slow decline of her economy and the people she ruled over? Worser still, if Faust offered himself as a marriage candidate… She flinched, biting the nail to the quick. Tears stung the edges of her eyes and she sighed, staring at the two Draconians who never once took their eyes off her. 

“I don’t suppose you two have ideas on how I can earn your trust, do you?” She asked without expectations. They’d given her nothing so far, why believe they would now of all times? 

But Lucy looked upon Hisui through the fringe of her hair. Her eyes shimmered and her shoulders grew lax as if coming to a decision. For the first time in a week, she looked to consider Hisui’s words. 

“Nomagqe jaciv ui-ulph - uh… telling the truth?” She sounded it out slowly, unknown words mixing with known, and Hisui hoped the unfamiliar sentence meant what she thought it did. 

“Yes,” she urged, stepping closer to the bars in excitement. “Yes, I’m telling the truth, I swear!”

Lucy looked to Natsu, fingers clutching his own, and her head nodded. He growled in response, shaking his head wildly. “Thric, Lucinia. Thric. Jaciv wont klae hesi gewjtok ominaki.” 

Hisui couldn’t tell, but something in the way he glowered from the corner of his eye made her believe he was judging her for something.  It was clear, then, that Lucy was the one she would need to convince first. 

What had Natsu called her? Hisui knelt to her knees, ignoring the dust of the stone floor coating the white of her dress. She considered grasping the bars, but at Natsu’s warning, she withdrew. 

Casting a glance back to the entrance, her guard, Arcadios, kept careful watch. His tall, armored countenance filled the exit, ensuring her privacy: good. Nodding to him, she reaffirmed her resolve, sweeping her gaze back to the caged girl in silent hope.

“... Lucinia?” She asked, “Is that your name? I’m Hisui, the Princess Of the Fiore Kingdom. I promise, I am not related to Emperor Faust or his Empire in any way.”

When Lucy flinched, Hisui immediately regretted her words, “I’m sorry. I won’t say his name again.” If that really was the cause for her reaction, Hisui thought to herself, hoping it wasn’t the use of her name that did it. “Would you like me to call you Lucinia?”

She waited with baited breath, desperately trying to read Lucy’s expression. Would she finally breach the barrier of their language and talk to her? The silence settled around them with the dust and cobwebs. Hisui’s knees began to sting from the rough surface of the floor,but she would continue to sit there until her time was up, if she had to. Anything to make them realize she meant every word she had said. 

Unfortunately, time would never be on her side.

“Milady,” Arcadios whispered from his station, “Faust will start to wonder if we’re gone too long. We need to leave.” 

Disappointment filled her, but still she did not move. “A few more moments, please.” 

She allowed silence to fill the room until she felt close to drowning, waiting in hopes of some connection. Please. Please. Give me something.

Natsu was the one to respond, snarling as he reared up against the bars. It was futile as he couldn’t reach Hisui from the inside, but she understood the meaning. He wanted her to leave. The sooner the better. 

She sighed, disappointed she couldn’t make further headway, but stood to meet his eyes. They were dark, but lit up with flecks of gold. As if a burning fire simmered beneath the surface. Hisui wondered how they would look in the light of day. 

Defeat quickly burst through her earlier confidence, shoulders slouching. Perhaps she was kidding herself, or hoping for a miracle in too short a time. She would simply have to try again and again and. Teeth grinding tightly against the other, a shock of pain jolted through Hisui’s jaw, pulling her from her negative thoughts and straight to a decision.

“Take me back to my rooms, Arcadios.” She ordered, straightening her stance again. She would have to freshen up before being subjected to another hour’s worth of Faust’s boasting. The taller man nodded, no longer filling the exit with his tall frame, but pushing the door open to wait for her. 

Hisui’s heart was heavy.  There was a sickness in her veins as she turned her back on the two draconians. She felt so useless. Of course they wouldn’t trust her. The most she could do was place nice and that was far from what they deserved or wanted. Fighting back a sting of tears, she continued to contain herself, a desperate attempt to stand tall and appear strong. The emperor was not allowed to see her weakness and neither were they. Not now. Of all times.

Taking the lead, she moved to the open doors, barely nodding to Arcadios as she passed, taking the steps with tears of shame prickling the edges of her eyes. 

Two steps up and a meek, tired voice echoed up behind her, freezing her place.

“Lucy is fine,” the female Draconian whispered, followed by the disgruntled snarls of her partner. “Lucinia ui for wux, Natsuth.” The threatening growl cut off at the reprimand and calmed in an instant. Hisui felt a new hope soar.

Finally! 

Relief flooded through her and she smiled. A foot in the door was better than none at all. She left with a lighter step and renewed vigor. If her patience could earn that, she was confident she could handle anything. Even Faust. 

Unfortunately, within a few hours, Hisui grew to regret that confidence. While she kept her joy hidden—cradled in the depths of her mind for motivation, Emperor Faust was an entirely different beast that hammered away at her mental armor. 

Lunch was atrociously wasted. Not only had she changed clothes to hide the stains on her previous skirts, she even prepared an entire spiel of lies detailing the morning she had to keep him from the truth. Yet despite these attempts, not only did she not have the stomach for the meal presented before her, it was all dishes she’d specifically stated weren’t to her tastes to begin with. (Hadn’t she explained before that she preferred a vegetarian diet? Why have deer placed before her? Her stomach rolled at the memory.)

 Was this the hospitality Faust boasted? Or an intentional opening to antagonize her? 

Faust was nothing but narcissistic. Any compliment to his rule, his non-existing wits, and the beauty that was his cherished Colosseum, left him monologuing for too many candle marks. Hisui couldn’t wait for his tour through the gardens, the beautiful flowers overshadowed by the battlegrounds looming overhead. Anything was better than listening to him brag.

The facility's gaping maw was a dark stain against the greenery, revealing the true stain of Faust’s empire, a direct dichotomy to the pure white of the castle stone. 

If Hisui wasn’t careful, she’d blow her cover from her expressions alone, grimacing at the sight each time his back turned. He created a broad silhouette she had to choose between staring at over the other. Wearing shoulder pads that created an illusion to his stature, she realized everything about him felt like that: an illusion.  His robes were thick, draping across the ground to collect every twig and leaf along the way, much like his beard at the lunch table. As he prattled on, he would fall into fits of manic laughter. It echoed through her skull, while his sweeping, once cleanly brushed beard dragged along the ground with his cloak. 

How he managed to traverse his own halls without overheating was a marvel. A testament of his age that he needed the constant warmth of his rich furs? Perhaps. But he was too stubborn to let the passage of time send him to his grave. Hisui cursed the gods for such a slight. 

“Tell me, Princess,”–Faust’s sudden change of demeanor gave her pause, pulling Hisui from her thoughts and settled to a neutral, practiced expression–“You appear distracted. Whatever could be more fascinating than this?”

“Oh, am I?” She dismissed the claim with an airy wave, “Forgive me, I’ve been here for some time now, but the sights still feel like a giant maze. Your gardens are simply too majestic, Your Excellency.” 

“Ah, but they pale in comparison to the battlegrounds.” His gaze searched her own, filling Hisui with a searing dread. “Tell me, have I allowed you to view the actual grounds yet? Or has it only been from a distance?”

“I’ve had a wonderful view from the Nobles box.” Her answer was an honest one, but hid the horrified thoughts shrieking in her head. Don’t take me there again. Not again, please no-

“Hah! A great view it is, but it doesn’t quite pack the same punch as standing in the middle of it all. Perhaps we should-”

One of his advisors, Byro she recalled, cleared his throat. His short, boxy frame came to her hips, but he looked even smaller next to the Emperor, who barely inclined his head to acknowledge the man. “What is it, Byro?”

Hisui pursed her lips together, staring at the advisor with a raised brow. The man in question, looked beyond her as if she didn’t exist, coughing behind a gnarled fist as he bowed before Faust, words oozing with false sincerity. “I’m sure we can schedule a time to explore the Colosseum grounds further,” He answered calmly. 

Relief surged through her veins. This was just the pause she needed as she frantically considered the best way to decline Faust’s invitation before it had been uttered. Bile rose in the back of her throat as she sucked on her bottom lip, fingers delicately pulling at the seams of her gloves as she considered the least insulting options. 

The advisor continued, unaware of the turmoil in their guest. “Unfortunately, we don't have the time today. My apologies, but there are still many things to settle at court before dinner.”

Faust narrowed his eyes, his entire countenance darkening as the older, balding man, tensed. “Change the schedule.”

“Mi…milord?” 

“Have you grown deaf in your age?” Faust barked, spittle ejecting from his mouth. “I said CHANGE it. Whoever needs my attention can wait or join the gladiators.” His eyes narrowed to slits beneath unkempt brows, voice lowering menacingly, “As could you, if it pleases me.”

“Y-yes..!” Byro’s short stature was quick to move, bowing deep enough to almost knock his head into his knees. She spied his shoulders shaking as he shuffled off. “Right away, my apologies!”

Not for the first time, Hisui was glad she had diplomatic immunity. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t risk war by subjecting her to the same terrors as his own men. 

The couple down below gave her a swift reminder that even those outside his borders weren’t safe. But then, couldn’t the Southern Denizens come to reclaim their own? Or were the two Draconions not important enough for war? Hisui wished she could find the answers. If only they’d speak with her! 

Changing their route to follow the pathway towards the looming shell of the Emperor's pride and Joy, the Princess felt her lungs drop deep into her stomach. Perhaps, Byro had the right of it. and it was she who was the unfortunate one. Immunity or not, she would rather be rushing back towards the Palace like him than being subjected to viewing the field of battle once more. 

“Pardon me,” she said, tongue twisting on her words as she attempted to find the best way to phrase herself, “but is there really that large a difference to see the grounds close up, as above it?”

She still remembered the sights from the giant box seats he’d brought her to before. The view was far enough to be safe from all manner of weapons flying out of bounds, but close enough to see the brutality up close. She still remembered the bruised and battered bodies of his contestants, ferally attacking the others in a desperate attempt to have one more day to live. While the crowds screamed and cheered for their favorites, who swung their chosen weapons She noticed the wildness in their eyes, the sweat pouring rivers down into them. She couldn’t hear it, but she could see the way they gasped for air, hoping for any source of energy that would allow them to prevail. 

While the crowd and their emperor saw a test of honor and show of strength, she saw men and women, clinging to life in any way possible. A horrid show and testament of the human conscious. She dreaded going any closer to those grounds than necessary.

“Tch, of course there is.” Whether she showed her discomfort or not, Faust didn’t notice or care, beckoning her to look forward with a sweep of his draping sleeves, “How can you truly feel what my gladiators do if you can’t experience it from their perspective?”

Oh, I have a pretty good idea what they feel already,she acerbically thought.

But any further attempts to dissuade Faust went ignored. It didn’t matter if she feigned a yawned, asked for the time for dinner ( “I’m dreadfully hungry-” she’d said, answered only with a “You’ll enjoy your supper when you get it then, won't you?”), or dramatically pointed to nearby ruins of the older palace’s location in excitement. 

At least, she hoped it sounded excited, and not nearly as panicked at the prospect of having to enter the Colosseum once more. 

Unfortunately, that was also rebuffed. 

Faust stared disdainfully at the old remains as if it could shrivel it into non-existence. “An old relic of a bygone age. It’s useless to think about and holds no purpose. Now, quit dawdling, Princess! We’re almost there.”

Yes, she deflated, that’s what she was afraid of. Her gaze trailed back to the old tower, curious as to Faust’s reaction to it. It looked to shrink from view the further they walked and a flash of gold moved in the underbrush alongside it. Hisui blinked, confused, but the flash was gone. A reflection from a broken window, she figured. 

There wasn’t much time to consider the ruin further as the Colosseum’s shadow stretched over them as they walked. Her mood darkened, distracting her away from those thoughts. Its archways gaped like giant mouths, beckoning its prey in as its next source of sustenance. She had nightmares of its entrances, swallowing her up with the screams of its warriors and victims. The dungeons had been the closest she dared to venture, and now, she had no choice, but to follow Faust into her waking nightmare. 

Without a crowd, the arena was a void of silence. Hisui felt stifled by the air as she observed the open dome. The stands were pristine, constantly swept and washed down before guests filled them, now bare and open for a future she didn’t wish to see. The grand seats were juxtaposed by the dirt encrusted arena still full of dust and debris from past battles. The comparison from one to the other left Hisui breathless. 

Walking through the opened gates felt like being thrust into the jaws of a beast. Faust proudly strolled in, unaware of the monster he’d created and Hisui shuddered, eyeing the portcullis gates that loomed overhead as she passed, shackling her down as good as any irons. When they breached the open air, brushing aside bits of wood and iron stuck in the dirt beneath their feet, she eagerly looked up into the sky, clinging to its open expanse as a source of freedom. 

Anything to ignore the oppressive weight of the arena as it swallowed her whole. 

She forced air into her lungs, swallowing thickly passed the sharp, intense fear that settled in her bones. This was not an area she ever wanted to enter. Not from this angle, but he seemed undeterred. He was giddy, in fact, with arms widespread, strolling to the center of the grounds like a child exploring a toy store.  His grin wide, teeth gleaming in his excitement, eyes almost mad in delight. 

Her steps were slow, out of pace with his own, reluctant to go further than needed, but this displeased him. After he spun around, eyeing his beautiful arrangement, he lashed out, grasping her wrist to drag her close enough to smell the rancid sweet oils in his beard. Each breath an overpowering and nauseating sign of its misuse. 

“Do you see now?” he guffawed, staring back to the box that held his own seat. “The view from here is entirely different! Here, we are the center of everything, the center of beautiful battles for life and death. You can feel their stories from here, can’t you? The glory of their deaths? Look around. It’s astonishing!”

Her mind whirled in disgust. Disdain spilled from her lips in an exclamation of horror that was bit back in a sudden fit of coughing. Clearing her throat, she commented on the dust in the air to use as her scapegoat and willed her expression to remain neutral. Her eyes burned as she resisted the urge to scrunch her nose, willing herself to follow Faust’s direction.

Broken spears and a glint of old arrows were buried in the dirt, colored in the red of rust and dried blood. They dotted the landscape and Faust beheld them as one did an extravagant painting. He was right that she could see their stories, dotted in every gash and blunted knife around them. What he saw as a glorious tale of honor and entertainment, she saw as a grueling struggle of preservation. 

“Yes,” she whispered, voice hollow, “quite…astonishing.“

“And just think,”–Faust’s voice was too close, whispering in her ear. She bit into her lip to prevent a scream, stubbornly resisting the urge to shove the Emperor with enough force to cripple the older man’s knees. His gnarled fingers moved to brush along her throat, raising the hairs on her skin–“if you were to battle here, weapon in hand, you could be part of it. Your enemy is just ahead, dauntless in his task to take you down before you strike. All… just…to please me.”

What…was he saying? Hisui finally found her voice, hissing harshly, “You threaten war with that fantasy, Emperor Faust!” 

The air became clear in an instant. The touch of his fingers lingered as he stepped away, giving her space as he chuckled, eyes whirling in amusement. Digging her nails deep into the palms of her hand, she turned to face him, anger flashing in her green eyes.  

Digging her heels into the dusty earth, she planted her hands against her hips and stood her ground. Now wasn’t the time to reveal any weaknesses, nor the fact that her entire body was strung up tight  to keep from quaking. 

His smile widened, “You’re a beautiful girl, my lady. An old man can’t help but envision what could have happened if your Kingdom was at war against me. I’ve seen you practice bladwork with your own men. You’d have been an excellent actor on this stage of mine.”

Hisui swallowed down the bile rising in her throat, “...But we’re not at war.” She cautiously reminded, ignoring the loud voice screaming in her head. A fire burned in her heart, wishing against all logic that her words could be false. What she wouldn’t give for a chance to stab him in his grisled heart–

His laughter echoed around the stadium–a crackling sound that felt like the bones of dead warriors had sprung to his throat. “No, we are not. Aren’t you lucky?”  

The atmosphere shifted again as he stepped away, giving her more air to breathe, more time to think and less defenses to put up. Turning back to the wrought iron gate they’d entered, he motioned for his guards to follow after, laughing each step of the way.  

“I’m sure your guards know the way back to the palace,” he said, derisively, “but I'm tired of our visitation. Enjoy the view, Princess, we can discuss this more later.”

Somehow, Hisui felt she was being provoked. His back presented a glaring target and her own dagger, nestled against her hip, burned. Could she move quick enough, yes, but that would be the end of it. His guards versus her own would end poorly, and assistance from home was much too far to enlist. 

It was a target that mocked her and he walked with confident strides. Almost as if he knew her imagined fantasies of jabbing her knife squarely in his hunched back.

It would take Hisui many minutes before she moved again, paralyzed by the feuding emotions that rattled inside her brain. Arcadios, having advanced as soon as Faust left, found her that way and approached as one would a frightened animal. 

He gleamed in the sunlight, white armor blinding as his hair grew flat from sweat. The sun gave no partial judgment to the nobles or the damned.  He stood before her and waited for an invite to come closer. Even at that distance, she could see the anger swirling in his eyes, the gnashing of his teeth to hold back his words. 

When she didn’t acknowledge him, he chose to go against protocol, brushing a hand against her face to bring her back to reality. She flinched at his touch, hand reflexively moving to grasp her weapon, but he caught her just as quick. “Your Highness,” he attempted to sooth, fingers smoothing out the creases on her forehead, “He’s gone. For now, you can breathe again.”

It all came out in one exhalation, voice quaking as a sob cracked through her frozen throat. All the strength left her, and she clung to Arcadios in an attempt to brace herself. Her knees buckled under the weight of her myriad of emotions. Just what was that? What was Faust trying to do? Had she been threatened? Did he know what she had been trying to attempt with his prized prisoners? 

Hisui struggled to breath, unaware of the way Arcadios wrapped her in his cloak to drag her out of the arena. Her men, waiting at the entrance, took their places around her, all matching the captain’s expression of outrage. Their knuckles white against the pommels of their swords, and the tension from them sought to shackle her. She needed air. More air. More than they could provide! As the looming mouth of the stadium disappeared behind her, she wildly looked for an escape. Anywhere she could that didn’t involve stuffy, marble halls or the watchful gazes of Faust’s soldiers. She’d rather bite off her own tongue and die!

Spying the ruins from before, she grasped the only source of peace she could find. Faust had looked upon it in disdain, angry at a relic whose history was hidden from her. The only place that was safe from his maddening eyes. He wouldn’t go there. Not now. It was perfect. “Take me there!” She ordered, fingers grasping into Arcadios’ armor, ignoring the way the harsh metal bent her nails, “I can’t go back, not yet!”

They couldn’t get her there fast enough. Each step felt like an hour as her mind went racing through the altercation in a loop. She wondered if there was a deeper meaning to his words, and the recollection of his proximity made her skin crawl. If she could claw it off she would, desperate for the effect to no longer exist.  The tower, though dilapidated with age, was comforting. It was askew to the ground, leaning over as vines reached out in an embrace to pull it into the earth below. An old stone bench stood adjacent to it, as if overlooking its slowly decaying walls. Hisui made for that seat, pushing out from Arcadios on wobbly legs, ignoring the underbrush that clung to her dress and legs. It was thicker here, allowed to take over what was once a beautiful watch tower, and she inhaled the wild grass and sticker bushes in desperation. All but throwing herself onto the bench once she was close,and finally allowed herself to decompress.Her posture shifted, hunching over to gasp for air and allow hot tears to well up and drip down heated cheeks. Arcadios and his men followed, but kept a proper distance, giving her the time she needed to piece herself back together. They secure the perimeter, all eyes on the gloomy, pristine palace that housed a tyrant they all wanted to kill. Was peace and proper trade routes really worth this? 

Hisui gulped in oxygen like it was water, fingers rubbing along her shoulders as if to wipe away the filth of Faust’s presence. Was it like that for the two Draconians locked away? Had he approached Lucy in such a way? Had he touched her like that, too? What fury must they have felt? What sickening desolation? She would have to be careful in her next visitations, she knew that, but this occurrence only fueled her resolve further. 

She would get them out. Even if she had to risk war. Oh, how she’d relish the end if it resulted in that bastard's death! 

So engrossed in her thoughts, she almost didn’t catch the sounds behind her. A gentle rustling in the brush that could have been the wind, except there was none. Perhaps she heard footsteps or the padded feet of an animal, skulking away, or perhaps one of her guards had deigned to come closer and check on her. There were many conclusions to the sound, but her paranoia was on a hair trigger.Brandishing her dagger in a swift jolt, she spun to face the–

Too slow. 

A hand, much larger than Foust’s, grasped her from behind, clenching her windpipe just enough to provide force but not rob her of air. Another hand grasped the top of her own, preventing her from slashing out as a low, almost familiar growl reverberated behind her. 

For a historical moment, she thought Natsuth had escaped his cell and was rampaging, but the snarl was too deep to be his.

And the hand–eyes shifted downward, too large, and glistening in golden, angry scales. Not Lucy…but…  Another draconian? She tried to speak, but the grip tightened in warning, cutting off her words.

“Tir ti zhen, munthrek!” Hisui didn’t know the words, but she knew a real threat when she felt one.

#Fairy Tail Fanfiction #FT Fanfiction #Nalu Fanfiction #Nalu #hisui e fiore #natsuxlucy #triggering themes present #ask me if you need anything tagged #My Writing #My Fanfiction

[2n2n]

I love the Tsukasa and Nene ship, and it seems that you do too and I would like to know why? Because this ship doesn't seem to be very popular what attracted you to it? And do you think it's possible for this ship to happen in the manga? (Unfortunately seen from my point of view I don't think so, because Tsukasa seems so innocent for this to happen, besides he only thinks about Hanako-kun 😢)

Popularity or suggestions from others has little to do with what I ship; I read the work, I imbibe the story, and I ship things based on what I am intrigued by, or perceive, in the story. I don't tend to engage much with fandom when reading something first time, so I had no idea what was 'big' or what wasn't (I didn't look at the fandom at all until the Far Shore arc, where I only really suddenly glimpsed it because I was looking for Sumire/Hakubo stuff & was blindsided by other's dislike of Hakubo). For instance, the popularity of Mitsuba and Kou, and ?? Aoi and Nene ?? completely and utterly baffled me, I wouldn't have guessed people really cared about any of that. I came out of it only caring about the twins x Nene-chan.

As it is, it intrigued me early on that Amane can compare Nene-chan to Tsukasa. They share a lot in common, centrally their love of Amane. In canon and in AUs, Tsukasa often acts like a sort of informant, giving Nene-chan information. The canon itself gives me the impression he places a lot of trust on her, and likes her. The story itself lead me to asking questions about it, and its viability only kept increasing as I read. I went into this expecting to only like HanaNene, but, AmaTsuka became the next obvious thing, but then weirdly the final piece, TsuNene, felt like it started taking shape...

Yes, I think it's possible for the ship to happen. I think it's the point of a lot of threads and ideas… I really do believe that. There are enough comics, illustrations, and commentary from JP fandom that make me feel I am not the only one seeing it, either. It's just the American fandom is helpless.... I call myself delusional but like any good delusional person, I believe what I think is true.

I guess after playing Narisokonai Snow White especially-- wherein you spend half the game exploring the love between the Princess x one twin, and then the OTHER half of the game unraveling the love the OTHER twin feels for the Princess-- yet ultimately relinquishes her to his brother, who he feels the Princess loves truly and deserves to be with-- I'm, really convinced that it's not just my delusion, but the sort of multilayered love story intrigue Iro-sensei likes to tell. We have much more to learn about Tsukasa!

I don't think Tsukasa "only thinks about Hanako-kun". I think these sentiments are incredibly sincere:

and intentionally loaded. You don't get a single vibe from TsuNene scenes? Aren't these vibes why anyone ships it? Well, I get major vibes.... It's not like....... Teru x Natsuhiko, or, some other frivolous idea invented out of thin air. lol

It could be his love for Amane that makes him love Nene-chan; the only other person who can understand what it is like, to wish to die for Amane.

For him to be willing to let Nene-chan in on so much, and share so many precious moments with Amane, I feel he has to admire her.

Iro-sensei likes complex romantic intrigue!!! I can't say enough ... Narisokonai Snow White was so about the interplay between the cast of twins + a girl they both like. The Princess and Rasphard were similarly ill-behaved children, something the Ambrose family notes in the text. The Princess, who is already in love with Estelio, sees similarity between the twin boys. We use established love between individuals to implicate love all across the ships. As the player of the game, you can cause either twin to yandere out on the princess based on what choices you make....

I believe in twin romance supremacy. I think it is why we have twins + a girl.

I think it is Iro-sensei's fetish lol

Now what I will say is your thought of "Tsukasa is too innocent for it to happen" is kind of real, but you should give more credit, then, to Nene-chan, who could also make it happen... :) ;) I mean look at her as it is, chasing down Hanako all running away from her every few chapters....!

Maybe Tsukasa doesn't understand everything he feels or everything that could be possible! Amane also thought he didn't value anything, much less her life. Nene-chan teaches the boys many things about love~

#avvy's JSHK #JSHK to me is like. you gotta do what you couldnt manage in Snow White. you were weak then you were a teenage writer in HS #YOU CAN DO IT NOW!!! YOU CAN WRITE 300 CHAPTERS OF TIMELINE SHENANIGANS!!!

[can-i-see-your-passport-please]

Hih ello it’s me. Fanfic anon. And I just!!! !!! The idea that Benry lost the boss fight on Purpouse is I think so very supported by canon- I was talkin to a friend about this a while ago but when he pulls out his passport and just holds it up for them all to shoot at? He didn’t have to do that he could’ve just kept the Thing in his pocket. Also the more obvious telling the skeletons to let Tommy go? Also the other idea- that Benry was s-cial (sorry I don’t know the appropriate level of censorship/not in this space here so this is what I’m going with)- is supported at least a little by canon?? The one time Gordon tries to stop one of his deaths (when the blast doors are closing because of the rocket launch at the very end of Act 2) Benry’s response is ‘I kind of wanted that ok’. I’ve been turning it over in my head for a very long time and having someone like. Include it as a thing that matters in their portrayal of Benry (intentionally or not) activated my neurons. Also like in general you’re a good writer, the comfort part of the hurt/comfort was incredibly satisfying. Like yeah boy. Forgive yourself. Get some decent sleep. Also like generally people giving Benry emotional depth and trauma along with the silly man ness is incredibly boundlessly fascinating to me and how you wrote him in both this and the other fic were great. Also this is a weird thing to ask prolly but where does Gordon live in the fic? Does New Mexico get snow and I just don’t know it. Sorry for talking so much this fic is just something to me. Thanks for writing it. It’s becoming a new tab in my browser window that’s just for saving fics I want to reread.

YOU GOT EVERYTHING BANG ON THE HEAD EXACTLY EXACTLY

YEAH....... I subscribe to the theory that he made himself the villain On Purpose because he knew the Nihilanth would kill the team and Gordon can't fucking respawn, so they kill the final boss, they go home, Benrey makes himself the final boss, yeah... I didn't notice the passport thing!! But yeah you're right! There was no reason he had to do that, but he just held it up for them to destroy. Plus like when Gordon went back to break his passport, if Benrey wanted to stop him. He could've! Easily! But he mostly just toyed with him, and then barely did anything to stop Gordon from destroying his passport. (Yes he said it was because he "didn't like that room", but he went into there before with absolutely no problem, and the only real difference here is he's 30 feet tall)

AND YES EXACTLY THE MOMENT WHERE GORDON STOPPED HIM FROM DYING AND HE WAS LIKE "YEAH WELL NOW IT’S GONE AND I KINDA WANTED THAT OKAY" so basically my friend and I were discussing a fic I'd just read that was a different take on canon, and it had incredibly clear (sub)text that the Xen thing was basically Benrey TRYING to die, and we were discussing that, and the VERY NEXT DAY WE REWATCHED HLVRAI AND NOTICED THAT LINE so yeah in my book. Benrey's 100% suicidal (worry not we are not bound by censorship in these lands)

Also I have no idea where Gordon lives I just wanted snow there you decide lol

I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THINK I'M A GOOD WRITER THIS ASK IS MAKING ME MELT /POS THANK YOUUUUU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#hlvrai #cassie rambles #cassie writes #frenrey #asks #anon #tw suicidality #ask to tag #tw suicide #you're still here and you're gonna be okay #🛂can i see your passport? please [benrey freeman]