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levi-lover · 3 years

Text

New Light Part: 2

College Levi x Reader(Modern AU)

W/C: 5.2k

T/W: None

A/N: Levi is a moody English major who spends his free time reading at the local cafe. I’m having a lot of fun writing this ! (pic from pinterest)

I’ve put all the parts in one list here: New Light Masterlist

Levi’s POV

Levi and Erwin sat in silence on their drive home. The blinker would occasionally fill the car with a strong click. Levi counted the lit up rooms in the passing apartments. Five, Six, Seven… He wanted to keep his mind off of you, the way your hair framed your face, your hand caressing the mug, the way you pressed your lips together when you listened someone speak.

“So, how long have you known (Y/N)?” Erwin asked as if he knew Levi was thinking about you.

“A couple of months,” he responded.

“Do you like her?” Erwin prodded.

“She’s nice,” Levi said.

Erwin nodded, he knew better than to ask further.

This was how their conversions normally went, Erwin would begin with a blunt statement and Levi would respond in a short manner. From an outsider’s perspective, it might have seemed like the two men weren’t friends but this dynamic worked for them. Erwin was straightforward with what he wanted and Levi didn’t like talking about personal subjects, even with one of his closest friends.

When they arrived to their shared apartment, they said their goodnights and went into their rooms. Erwin had to be up early tomorrow for a debate meeting and Levi wanted to be alone. After they moved out of the dorms they decided to keep living together because it was the most cost effective option and plus Levi liked that Erwin was as neat as him, almost as neat. They lived in an old, walk-up apartment ten minutes away from Wall Rose University in a quiet neighborhood. They’ve been living there for three years now and had no plans to move out anytime soon.

Levi opened the window slightly to let the cool air in, raindrops fell from the gutter and filled the dark bedroom with gentle taps.. He laid down on the bed and breathed in the smell of the city and old books in his room. He closed his eyes and let his body melt into the bedsheets, he used the same lavender fabric softener his mom loved. Mmm, I should give her a call tomorrow, he thought. He felt his thoughts bounce around in his head but he was too tired to unravel them. Levi focused on his breathing and eventually his thoughts subdued into lenient bystanders.

There was silence around him when suddenly, you popped up in his thoughts. Levi let out a small sigh. Fuck, what are the odds of her knowing Hange. Hange of all people,the one person who doesn’t know how to shut up, Levi thought. Frustration began to fill his chest. He wanted you to meet his friends and he wanted to know more about you but he didn’t want it to happen like this. Levi wanted to do it right with you. He knew wasn’t the most charismatic or hospitable person and romance wasn’t his forte. Romance, Levi thought and chuckled. He remembered Erwin’s earlier question. Do I like her?

He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index and forefinger. He didn’t have a ton of experience with romance. His only relationship with Petra ended in a disaster, she broke up with him after feeling neglected for months. That was never Levi’s intent, he loved her but he didn’t know how to express it. Whenever he saw her on campus she would always give him a smile and wave which Levi would reciprocate. He regretted the way everything ended but he was thankful she didn’t hold a vengeance against him. He was 18 and foolish but he was older now and slightly less foolish.

Levi looked out the window and started to form a plan in his head. It was evident he had some sort of feelings for you, you were funny, pretty, easy to talk to and you cared about what he had to say. He smiled as he remembered how earnestly you looked at him while he explained the latest book he was reading, he started reading books he thought you might like. Shitballs, maybe I do like her. There was nothing he could do now, he didn’t want to do anything until he had a better understanding about what you were thinking. He nodded his head, proud of his plan.

The hardwood floor creaked as Erwin walked over to the bathroom. Outside of the window, the sky was beginning to glow with a soft orange hue. Levi closed the curtain, pulled off his clothes and tucked himself into bed. He curled his body around a pillow and slowly began to drift off, eager to wake up to begin his plan.

The crisp autumn hit your face as you opened the doors to the lecture hall. You felt light and airy after finishing your genetics midterm. It was one of the hardest tests you’ve taken but you felt okay about it. Hange had helped you study for the past week and their enthusiasm and studying techniques helped you out immensely. I owe them big time, you thought. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, it was Hange.

Hange: U FREAKING DID IT!!! IM SO PROUD XD

You: thank uuu, i feel good about it!

Hange: YAY! We’re out in the park blocks! Join us!

You: ok !

You stared at the screen and re-read the conversation. Join us...they must mean Levi and Erwin. You scoffed the tip of your boot into the pavement, the familiar feeling of nerves began to dance in your stomach. Slowly, you made your way to the park blocks, the on-campus park where students would have picnics and study sessions. Students began to pour out of lecture halls and other buildings, eager to celebrate the end of midterms week. There was an undeniable feeling of excitement as they cheered and laughed.

You stood at the edge of the park looking for the trio. Levi waved his hand from a picnic bench and smiled at you. Your heart momentarily stopped and you realized you’ve never seen him outside of the cafe. He was wearing a hunter green sweater and his black overcoat. The wind feebly moved through his hair but even from farway you could see the deep circles around his eyes. You made your way to the trio and gave out a half-hearted hello.

“(Y/N)! How do you feel?!” Hange shouted.

“Fucking relieved,” You said. Levi smiled.

“I’m proud of you, (Y/N). Hange told us about all the hours you studied for the exam.” Erwin gave you a thumbs up.

“Thanks, dude. How were your midterms?” You asked as you sat down next to Erwin.

“They went well! I think I got an A on my Political Theory exam but we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Erwin, you clown, you know you aced that test.” Hange rolled their eyes. “But thanks to the lovely Levi, I know I got an A on my essay.”

Levi frowned. “Tsk, I was surprised you even knew how to spell.”

Hange hit Levi’s shoulders and he swiped back.

“Hey, stop it you two,” Erwin scolded. “I swear, they’re like children.”

You laughed and nodded. The Levi you knew was always stoic and calm but Hange brought out a different side of him. He looked happier even when he was annoyed. You grabbed a dead leaf from the table and started to pull it apart, rubbing the dead plant bits between your fingers.

“Are you good?” Levi’s voice broke your concentration. You looked up and met his gray-blue eyes.

“Yep, all good here.” You smiled at him and he returned one back.

“That’s fantastic! So tonight. Ymir’s Bar at eight. Got it?” Hange ordered.

Erwin and Levi nodded in response and looked at you. Your eyes darted between the three of them.

“Uh, I would love but I’m hanging out with a few people tonight.”

“Please, join us! Your friends are more than welcome to come, the more the merrier,” Hange begged.

“I beg to differ…” Levi mumbled.

“Shut up, grumps.” Hange elbowed Levi and returned their gaze back to you. “It’ll be fun, I’ll buy you a shot.”

You rolled your eyes, “fine, but I’m buying you a shot. I owe you, Hange.”

Hange squealed and clapped their hands. “Yay! My friend, Moblit will tag along too. You haven’t met him yet but he’s great and such a talented artist. You’ll love him.”

“Sweet, I’m excited, can you send me the address?” You responded. Hange nodded.

“Who are you hanging out with?” Erwin asked.

“Oh, uh. My boyfriend and some of our friends,” You muttered.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. (Y/N) why didn’t you tell me?” Hange asked, heartbroken.

Erwin glanced at Levi. He was looking at the grains in the table, his heart sank but he knew better than to let his friends know.

“I don’t know. It didn’t seem like the most important thing to talk about during our study sessions.” You were unsure why but you felt defensive over Hange’s comment.

Hange looked hurt at your response, you felt a pang of regret. You didn’t mean to keep your relationship a secret but your life didn’t revolve around your relationship so it felt pointless to bring him up. The air around the table was tense and cold. The sun was setting and the four of you were on the brink of being enveloped by the shadow of a large lecture hall.

“Regardless, I’m eager to meet your boyfriend and friends,” Erwin said in a strained voice.

“Yeah, I’m excited for all of you to meet. I think I’m going to go home and get ready.”

“Of course, we’ll see you soon,” Erwin said in a quiet tone.

You waved goodbye to all of them, the trio waved back and you made your way to the bus station. As you waited for the bus, you sent your boyfriend a message to meet your new friends at Ymir’s. He sent back a simple thumbs up emoji as a response. You pulled out a pair of headphones and blasted music to drown out your thoughts. Yet Levi’s face kept on appearing in your head, the way the sunlight caressed the hard lines of his face, his honest smile when he was with his friends, the way his eyes lost their glow when you announced you had a boyfriend. We never did anything. Hell, I didn’t even know his name until last week so why should I care what he thinks. We’re just coffee shop friends, that’s it. The bus pulled to the stop, you waited for everyone to exit before entering and made your way to the back window seat. The glass was cold on your forehead but it felt nice. You sighed, preparing yourself for a night out with your new friends and your boyfriend.

Levi’s POV

After you left, Hange and Erwin looked at Levi with concern in their eyes. Levi noticed their stares and glanced up at them.

“The fuck you looking at,” he growled.

“Levi, I’m sorry,” Hange whispered.

“About what?” He scoffed.

Erwin was about to speak but Levi abruptly got up and buttoned his coat. “I’m going home. I’ll see you both at Ymir’s.”

Erwin and Hange exchanged a look and nodded. When Levi made up his mind there was no stopping him. They watched him walk away, his head was slightly lower than usual. Levi walked over to the bike rack and unhooked his black low handle bicycle. In one smooth motion, he drapped his leg over the seat and began to peddle home. The wind hurt his face and burned his lungs but he pushed harder and harder on the pedals. Crouching down on the seat as he biked up the hills, hoping to ride away from the bench to run away from his disillusion that you could love him.

A few hours later, Erwin, Hange and Moblit entered the apartment. Hange called out to Levi.

“Hey, Mr. Grumps! We have something for yoooou!!” They called out.

Levi moaned and rolled out of bed, his bare feet hit the cold ground as he dragged himself to the living.

“What is it, Four Eyes? Hey, take off your disgusting shoes,” he scolded. “Oh, hey, Moblit.”

Moblit raised his head slightly as a hello. He wasn’t a man of many words. Hange held up a bottle of whiskey and grinned. “So we could pre-game. Take this as a thank you present for helping me write my essay.”

Levi rolled his eyes and smiled. He was touched by Hange’s generosity but he would never dare show it to them.

“I’ll grab us some mugs,” Erwin said and began to walk towards the kitchen.

“No, Erwin! Tonight’s a shot type of night,” Hange said deviously.

The three men looked at them and hesitantly nodded. They wanted to relax and unwind but a night out led by Hange always ended up with someone’s head in the toilet. Still, they each filled a shot glass, cheered and downed the alcohol. They drank for a while, everyone’s faces were glowing. Hange was blasting music and dancing. Moblit watched them with admiration. Erwin and Levi were giggling over something stupid Erwin said.

Erwin looked at the clock, it was closing in on 8. “Shit, we should get going.”

“Hey, man watch your mouth. And maybe we should stay in. It’s cheaper,” Levi said.

“Levi, noooo. We can’t do that. We told (Y/N) that we would meet her at Ymir’s!” The alcohol was already getting to Hange.

“Who’s (Y/N)?” Mobit asked.

“My friend from genetics! And Levi’s too,” Hange proclaimed.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tsk, she’s not my friend. I hardly know her.”

“Mmm, if you say so.”

“Whatever, let’s go,” Levi said curtly.

The four of them grabbed their coats and headed to Ymir’s. It was only a ten minute walk from their place. Hange let everyone know that you had already arrived and saved a table on the back patio. As they walked, they talked about their finals and plans for the upcoming break. When they arrived at Ymir’s, they pushed open the door and entered the humid room. The bar was full of people celebrating the weekend, a couple was making out in one of the booths and people were lined around the bar. They ordered their drinks and walked through the back doors.

Levi’s hands began to sweat and he felt a lump in his throat when he saw you. You looked beautiful under the glow of the patio lights, you were smiling and had a beer glass on your lips and you were laughing. Erwin stood in place and Hange stopped their chatter.

“Oh, so that’s what they’re doing now,” Hange spouted.

They were referring to Zeke who had their arm around you and to Porco and Pieck who were sitting across from you and your boyfriend.

You saw the group at the back entrance and waved. Your nerves from earlier were completely forgotten after your second beer. Zeke rubbed his thumb against your shoulder and you smiled out of habit. You made eye contact with Levi and gave him a toothy grin, his eyes darted away. Your friends looked at the party headed towards them and stopped talking but you didn’t notice.

“Hey, I was wondering if y’all forgot where the bar is,” you joked but no one laughed.

“Erwin. Levi. It’s been a while,” Zeke stated.

You looked at him confused. “What? You know them?”

Zeke chuckled, “yeah, I guess I do.”

“Zeke, it’s nice to see you again. Same to you Porco and Pieck,” Erwin stated.

Porco and Pieck looked at each other and smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Erwin,” Pieck said in a sweet voice.

Levi glared at the way Zeke’s arm was draped across your shoulder. He gritted his teeth. Hange noticed how tense he was getting and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What a small world! I’m glad everyone knows each other. Guys, sit down!” You motioned at the empty seats at the table, completely misreading the space.

Hange was the first to sit and the rest followed. The table was quiet for a few minutes, everyone sipped on their drinks.

“Levi, I like your scarf,” You pointed to the black scarf draped across his body.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s such a nice scarf,” Zeke repeated.

Levi gave Zeke a dirty look. Hange looked at him nervously and Moblit put a hand on their knee to calm them. You took another sip of your beer.

“Yeah, Zeke, it is a nice scarf. That’s why I complimented it. Anyways, how do you all know each other?” Confidence surged through your veins thanks to the alcohol.

“We were floormates freshman year,” Levi’s dry voice said.

“Wait-oh, I see,” You said.

Erwin began to make casual conversation with everyone while Levi stared at the bottom of his glass. Hange and Moblit joined Erwin and conversed with the other two at the table. Wait, is Zeke the one that called Erwin’s kickback lame? That’s the only possibility, right? Your head was dizzy from the alcohol but the puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Porco called out.

“Huh?”

“You good? It looks like we lost you there for a second.”

“Yeah, Porco. I’m fine,” You said sarcastically.

“Zeke, you and (Y/N) make a good couple,” Erwin said.

Zeke chuckled and squeezed you closer to his toned body, “I know but thank you.”

You kept your head down unsure about what to do. It was evident that Zeke had an issue with Erwin and Levi but you didn’t fully understand why. From what you heard, Zeke was the one who was mean to the other two but Zeke was your boyfriend so you should be on his side, right? You took another swig of your beer.

“Levi, are you still with Petra?” Pieck asked.

Petra? Who the fuck is that, you thought, anger coursed through your veins.

“No,” Levi said.

“Oh, that’s too bad. She was such a lovely girl,” Pieck sighed.

“Who’s Petra?” You asked.

No one answered your question. You looked at Pieck but she kept her eyes down. What the fuck is up?

“She’s a girl I dated freshman year,” Levi explained.

“Oh.”

Hange broke the tension by shouting, “(Y/N), I promised you a shot! Who else wants one?”

Pieck, Moblit and Erwin raised their hands. Hange called over a server and asked for a round of shots for everyone. A few minutes later, they brought tequila shots for the table. Everyone grabbed their lime and raised their glass.

“To finishing finals!” Hange exclaimed.

The table repeated what Hange said and took their shot. You and Porco laughed at Pieck’s face and she stuck her tongue out at you. Zeke kissed your cheek and you leaned into his warm body. For a second, it felt like it did at the beginning of your relationship. You felt safe and hopeful but those feelings disappeared when you caught Levi looking at you and Zeke. Immediately, you pulled away and Zeke frowned. You weren’t one for PDA but after a few drinks you didn’t mind showing your man some love but under Levi’s eye it felt wrong.

“Let’s do another shot!” Hange shouted.

“Hange!! Let me buy you a shot!!” You shouted back.

“(Y/N), you’re the best!!” Hange exclaimed, their cheeks glowing under the lights.

Everyone took another shot and the mood around the table began to lighten as everyone got drunker. Porco made a few jokes that made Erwin laugh. Zeke talked to Hange about their senior thesis. Everything seemed to be falling into place except for Levi. He didn’t make an effort to hold a conversation with anyone. He stared at the empty shot glasses and occasionally smiled at whatever Erwin said.

The patio lights shadows made Levi look heavenly, the soft glow bounced off his pale skin and you tried not to stare but you couldn’t, he looked so pretty.

Zeke could sense that your thoughts were taking you elsewhere so he gave you a kiss on the check. You gave him a smile in return.

The bar was packed and everyone at the table was talking after a new round of drinks. It should be a perfect night, all of your friends seemed to be getting alone but something didn’t feel right. In that moment, you wished it could have been Levi holding your body. Stop, Levi is just a friend, that’s it. I love Zeke. You repeated in your head over and over.

As the night dragged on, you slowly began to lose touch with reality, everything became a happy, surreal blur. Throughout the night, Zeke kept his hands on your body. Before that would have kept you grounded but now it felt off, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol but you didn’t want him to touch you. You kept on smiling and talking to everyone until the bartender called for final orders.

“This was nice but I think we should get going now,” Erwin declared.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Pieck said.

Everyone gathered their belongings and started to walk towards the front door. Zeke walked ahead with Porco and Pieck but you stayed behind with the others. Erwin, Hange and Moblit left you and Levi together alone. Hange’s arm was wrapped around Moblit’s shoulder. They leaned against their body and continued talking.

“Hey, I had a good time tonight,” You said to Levi who barely acknowledged your existence.

“It was okay,” He stated.

The two of you followed the others.

“But what are the odds of us forming a friendship in this way, right?” You said.

“Tsk, a friendship? We hardly know each other, I wouldn't push it,” Levi responded.

“I guess you’re right,” You muttered.

Levi felt bad about his harsh tone but he didn’t know what to do. He still had the same warm feeling in his chest from before but watching Zeke touch you hurt him. All of you had exited the bar and you walked over to Zeke and he placed his jacket over your shoulders.

“Well, it was, uh, nice to catch up with all of you. Hange thank you for helping my girl study. Get home safe,” Zeke said. You smiled and everyone and waved.

“Zeke, the same to you too. Glad to know you’re doing well. (Y/N) congrats on finishing midterms. See you later,” Erwin said.

“I love yoouuu! I love all of you!” Hange shouted. Moblit still had his arm around Hange to stabilize them.

“Love you too, Hange!” You blew them a kiss.

They all turned and began to walk home. Porco and Pieck had already left in their Uber. You looked at Zeke and he gave you a smile and you smiled back out of habit.

Zeke made conversation on your way back to his place. You wrapped your arms around your body and counted the steps in between each street light. The air around you was dry and your breath fell to the ground in a transparent cloud. Eventually, you made it to Zeke’s apartment, it was highrise close to downtown. When you entered the apartment your attention immediately went to the large windows. They faced the city skyline and the lights poured into the living room and gently outlined the minimal furniture in the room. Zeke led you to the bedroom and began to kiss the back of your neck. His beard tickled your neck and left goosebumps on your skin. You rolled your shoulders and stepped away.

“Come on,” Zeke groaned.

“No, not tonight. I’m really tired,” You said.

You made your way to the bathroom and turned on the harsh lights. The lights bounced off the white tiles and highlighted the bags under your eyes. You stared at yourself for a while, the longer you stared, the faster your thoughts swirled in your head. Is Levi made at me? You splashed cold water on your face and tried to wash off the awkwardness from tonight but no matter how hard you scrubbed, you couldn’t get the image of Levi staring at the empty glasses out of your head.

When you walked back into the bedroom you saw Zeke passed on the bed. You smiled at him and placed a blanket over his body and brushed his hair away from his forehead. You curled up on the opposite side of the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. Zeke’s soft snores filled the room, normally that was enough to lull you to sleep but lately it was becoming more of a nuisance. Why am I feeling like this? I love Zeke and he loves me back, that should be enough. So why do I feel so unsure? Zeke wasn’t your first partner but he was your first proper love. Everything beforehand had felt like practice for this.

The two of you had met in the spring term of sophomore year. The sun was shining and you we’re sitting on a blanket with Rico bouncing off ideas for research projects. You kept an eye on the baseball team who were practicing near the two of you. Rico was in the middle of explaining her ideas when a baseball flew in your direction.

“Heads up!” shouted a deep voice.

Both of you covered your heads as the ball flew over your blanket. The footsteps of one of the players was nearing your spot.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that.”

You tried to look up but the sun was blinding your eyes. You were able to make out the outline of a tall, man with broad shoulders and wavy blonde hair. He flashed a charismatic smile and said,“the name’s Jaeger. Zeke Jaeger.”

You introduced yourself and Zeke knelt down so his head was at your level.

“Nice to meet you. I feel about almost hitting you. Not sure what happened, normally I have perfect aim.” He winked at you. “Let me make it up by taking you out for a drink, your friend is more than welcomed to come.”

You blushed and thanked him and began to decline your offer when Rico interrupted you.

“She, I mean, we would love that. Here’s her number and mine, too.”

“Thanks, I’ll shoot y’all a text.”

Zeke stood up, grabbed the ball and gave you a wave before running back to his team. From that point on, the two of you had been inseparable.

You drifted off thinking about those first memories, the sweetness of his touch, the excitement of loving Zeke, the hopefulness you had. If you kept on thinking about those moments then maybe they would manifest back into your life. You wanted back that stability in your love so much it hurt your chest.

The next day you rolled over to an empty bed. Your hand traced the cold sheets and you kept your hands in the sunlight, the warmth felt good compared to the draft in Zeke’s bedroom. He preferred a colder bedroom, he said it was better for the body. The front door opened and you pretended to be asleep. Zeke’s footsteps got closer to the bed and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek, he smelled of sweat and musk. Who goes on a run after a night out? You thought. The showerhead turned on and you heard Zeke sing.

You got up and rummaged through Zeke’s drawer and pulled out a navy cardigan. You wrapped the fabric over your body and padded your way to the kitchen. The kitchen was colder than the bedroom.

“Fuck, who lives like this?”

You poured yourself water and stared at the tiles on the walls. Re-playing Levi’s comment in your head. Tsk, a friendship? We hardly know each other, I wouldn't push it. You didn’t blame Levi for his harshness but his comment hurt. There was no denying that you two shared a kinship that was a bit deeper than friendship. Romance wasn’t the word for it either. The relationship you had formed with him felt safe, you felt understood and respected in a way you haven’t really before. Your concentration was broken when you heard Zeke enter the kitchen.

“Hey, babe. Good morning.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I bought you a smoothie.”

“Thanks, Zeke,” you responded.

He grabbed the smoothie from the fridge and smiled at you. You sat on the counter and began to sip on the drink. Zeke hummed to himself and began to pull out a pan from the cupboard.

“Whatcha thinking about?” you asked.

“Life.”

“Like, the gameboard?” You joked.

He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I’m thinking about last night. I never thought I was going to see those guys ever again.”

“Mmm, why did something happen?” You said nonchalantly.

Zeke chuckled, “stupid freshman things. We were all young and dumb.”

He stayed silent afterwards as he went on to fry some eggs. The eggs sizzled in the pan and he whistled quietly. You knew him well enough to know he wanted to say something else.

“I mean, I did dumb stuff when I was freshman so how bad can it actually be?” You prodded.

Zeke stared at you with a series expression. “Look (Y/N), I don’t really want to hash out what happened but-” he hesitated as he looked for the right words to say, “-be careful around Levi. There’s something off about that guy.”

“Oh,” you muttered.

You continued drinking the smoothie, the smell of the egg was making you nauseous and you started to feel the hanging over. You went back into the bedroom and laid down. Your phone buzzed and saw a text from Hange.

Hange: OMG i’m so hungover, i don’t remember getting home

You: Hange, WTF that’s not good lol but I know you were in good hands ;)

Hange: wut does that mean??

You: Moblit lol he was so nice and caring

Hange: … no comment but what are you doing

You: nothing really, why?

Hange: do you want to get brunch?

Hange: it’ll just be the two of us :)

You: yeah, i would love that, send me the address !

The smell of egg had entered the bedroom and you gagged. You hated the smell but Zeke insisted that it was the best way to get protein in the morning. You grabbed your belongings and walked to the kitchen again. Zeke was sitting at the counter eating the eggs and drinking his smoothie while reading the paper.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out!”

“Really? I thought we could spend the day together before I leave,” Zeke responded.

“You’re leaving?” You paused while putting on your shoes.

“I thought I told you. My internship is taking me on a trip for the next three days and then I’m heading home for the break,” Zeke said in between bites of food.

“Shit. You didn’t tell me. How about we hang out later today?”

“Yeah, I guess that sounds good to me. I’ll see you later,” he said.

“See ya.”

You went back to your apartment to freshen up and hurried to the diner Hange was it. You stepped through the doors and immediately saw Hange’s smiling face. They were waving you to their table. You greeted them with equal excitement and walked to them. For the past few weeks, some of your favorite moments have been hanging out with them. They always brightened your mood with their cheerful banter and love for life. You were excited to eat brunch with them and question them more about the history between the trio and your boyfriend.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #levi fic #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi fluff #college levi ackerman #modern levi ackerman #aot fic #attack on titan x reader #levi snk #levi x reader #levi lover fic #new light #aot fluff

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just a Friend

So I finally started to write another story...

I will try and post weekly, but can’t promise on account of real life and my inability to actually focus on translating what’s in my head onto paper (or screen!)

Getting the courage to post never gets any easier, but here goes. I hope you enjoy this frothy bit of fun. I will also post on AO3.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for being an excellent beta.

Chapter 1: From Airport to Aggravation

Bank holiday crowds, on the whole, are hell.

And this one is rapidly turning into an even deeper level of purgatory. The hottest May for years in Scotland and I’m stuck at Glasgow airport with a dozen women, collectively known as ‘Geillis’s Hen Party Posse’, each displaying varying degrees of inebriation, hangover or general sleep deprivation, and all aiming for the luggage carousel showing the flight from Barcelona. Which apparently is where several hundred other disembarked passengers are also heading.

Eventually, I manage to get a view of the bags and cases slowly making their way around the belt. They’re pretty picked over by this time, apart from the couple of boxes covered in gaffer tape that always seem to be first off a plane—any plane—and last to be collected. They’re always there, on every flight. Why is that?

I pause from my musings to wave frantically at Geillis, who now has a trolley and is clearing a path straight towards me.

“I got us a trolley.” she informs me, stating the obvious. “I thought it’d be easier. Have ye seen ours yet, Claire? I canna see the others. They must have already gone through.”

“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes firmly on the little hatch, willing our bags to appear. All I want is to go home, put my sleep mask on and try and get some sleep. Three days in Barcelona celebrating Geillis’s forthcoming nuptials have worn me out, and, I glance at my watch, I am due in theatre in approximately seventeen hours time.

"It's there, it's there," Geillis points excitedly at the neon pink and green leopard print bag making its way towards us.

She makes a grab for it as I continue to look for my bag. Predictably, it’s one of the last ones on the carousel. I recognise it immediately from the piece of red gift ribbon tied to the handle of the plain black Samsonite. I load it onto the trolley and Geillis and I head through customs to join the rest of the posse.

We say our goodbyes loudly, with much hugging and kisses. A stranger viewing this scene might imagine we won’t be seeing each other again for weeks or even months. In truth, I’ll be seeing most of them in the next week or so at the hospital as our schedules coincide.

“Shall we two get a taxi, then?” Geillis asks me.

I start to answer as my mobile pings — a text from Frank...very nice, very caring, very predictable.

Darling, it’s been a long three days without you. I am ready to collect you from the airport if you would like. If not, might I see you later this evening? xxx

And that is very clearly Frank. Correct grammar and punctuation, even on his texts. I shake my head as if to drive away my inner bitch and pretend I haven’t read it. I will respond, of course, just later when I’m back at home.

So, I smile at Geillis and agree. “Of course, we can go halves.”

***********

As I walk into my flat, the peace and quiet and sheer bloody calm wraps itself around me like a swaddling cloth. It’s blissfully cool too, with all the shutters closed.

It’s not that I didn’t have a good time in Barcelona. It was actually great. But being in the company of others twenty four hours a day is wearing, much as I love them. And we all had to do everything together. No sneaking off for a solitary walk, or escaping to bed for a little siesta.

I deposit my suitcase by the bedroom door, slip off my converse, pour myself a glass of orange juice, settle down on the sofa and figure out how best to tell Frank not tonight without offending him.

Frank, Sorry but tonight isn’t —

I delete and try again.

Thanks for the offer to pick me up. I was already in the taxi when I got it. Can we give tonight a miss? Theatre in the morning and I’m knackered totally exhausted. You know what Geillis is like. Speak tomorrow, I promise. C

Frank knows what Geillis is like. Frank thinks Geillis is a bad influence on me, with her larger than life personality and wild ideas. I think Frank doesn’t really know me at all if he believes I can be influenced like that. I hang out with Geillis and my friends because they’re fun and we laugh… a lot.

Without realising, I feel my shoulder muscles relax as soon as I’ve sent the message. These are not good signs for my relationship with Frank. He’s investing far more into ‘us’ than I am willing to do. But as long as I’m honest with him…

There are advantages to being with Frank, of course. He’s punctual, very organised and a proficient and considerate lover. He always makes sure I come, even if I sometimes...er… exaggerate my reactions to hurry things along. So much for honesty, then.

I finish my orange juice and plan my evening. Four things to do - unpack, grab some food, shower and sleep. Not even going to wash my hair. That would really be too much effort, struggling with my untameable mane, and it’s going to be stuck under a surgical cap for most of tomorrow anyway.

It takes a bit of effort to actually move from the sofa. I could quite happily fall asleep there. But then I’d wake up in the middle of the night—starving hungry and still smelling of sweaty airports. Reluctantly, I haul myself into a vertical position and head for my bedroom picking up my suitcase en route.

Opening the suitcase, I am not greeted with the expected haphazard mass of sun dresses, t shirts and shorts—all with the evocative aroma of Hawaiian Tropic—but a layer of white dress shirts, immaculately folded and the faint scent of a musky cologne.

Shit, shit, shit!! Some else has walked off with my black samsonite with the red ribbon on the handle. My evening plans are rapidly going awry. I delve into my handbag praying that I kept my boarding pass with the sticky bar code luggage receipt. The relief when I find it lurking in the bottom of my bag is immense. Quickly I google the airline lost baggage number and dial.

After a few bars of some god awful plinky plinky hold music, I hear a recorded message. “Your call is important to us, please hold. Your call is important to us, please hold.”

Good to know, then back to the plinky plinky before another message. “The office you are trying to reach is now closed. Please try again during office hours nine am to five thirty. Thank you.”

“If my call is so important to you, why is no one there at six o’clock?” I yell down the phone, but the plinky plinky ignores me and continues its irritating melody.

I sigh. I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow morning to sort this out. Besides, by nine am tomorrow morning, I will be somewhat unavailable - reshaping the hip bone of a seven year old boy. So, I have no alternative. I will have to have a bit of a dig around this stranger’s suitcase, looking for any clue or contact details.

As I start to have a feel around, it occurs to me that some stranger might, at this very moment, be doing exactly the same thing — having a poke around my suitcase in the hope of finding my details. No doubt judging me based on my choice of holiday attire. And, I suddenly realise, his judgement may well be coloured by the discovery of some items of a more adult nature.

I say ‘he’, based on the XL white shirts, the pair of battered jeans and faded Scotland rugby shirt, but I could be wrong. I don’t have to dig any further into the case as I spy, in a mesh pocket, a neat rectangle of card with a name — James Fraser — a mobile number and an email address.

Relief sweeps over me. Perhaps we can get this all sorted tonight. Unless this James Fraser lives miles away and was just passing through Glasgow on his way to, say, the Outer Hebrides. That could be a whole other level of problem.

I quickly reach for my phone. Another message from Frank awaits.

Are you sure, darling? I’m looking forward to seeing you. Would tomorrow evening work for you?

I ignore it for the moment. Let me sort my luggage issue out first.

I dial the number on the card and begin to pace around my bedroom as it rings and rings. I am just about to give up when, thankfully, it’s answered.

“Hello?” A female voice asks warily.

I clear my throat and put on my most pleasant phone voice. “Is there a James Fraser there please?”

“Ye’ve the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry, I must have mis—“ I begin, but find myself apologising to dead air.

I try again, carefully comparing each digit to those written, very neatly, on the card.

“Hello?” The same female voice answers, more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but this is the number I have for James Fra—“

“And I already told ye, ye’ve the wrong number. Dinna bother again.”

In the days before mobiles, I’m sure this would have been accompanied by a deafening crash as the receiver hit the cradle. Pressing a soft key doesn’t have the same dramatic effect. But I get the message anyway.

So, new plan needed. All I can do is email this James Fraser and hope he actually has written down the correct email address. If not, I’ll have to sort it out with the airline tomorrow afternoon.

My stomach rumbles and I suddenly realise that I’ve not eaten since breakfast, unless you count the slices of fruit in my jug of sangria. I wander into the kitchen and peruse the contents of my cupboards and fridge. I’m not the most gifted cook, but I’m not too bad and can usually rustle up something edible and fairly tasty. The bread feels a bit on the dry side but will be fine toasted, and I know I have eggs.

I put a knob of butter in a pan and text Frank while I’m waiting for it to sizzle.

Think tomoz will be ok. Talk 2morrow. C

I don’t normally use text speak at all, but something about Frank’s perfectly formed text messages always makes me want to rebel. I can imagine him wincing right now. He’s a professor at the university and is forever complaining about the standard of literacy amongst his undergraduates. If he thinks he has problems, he should try dealing with junior doctors.

With my scrambled egg on toast all eaten, I focus my attention on the email to James Fraser. I write it quickly, brief and to the point: I have your suitcase and therefore presume you have mine, can we meet to swap them over and here’s my phone number.

The longing for a shower and then bed is now overwhelming. I strip off and bundle all my clothes into the laundry basket, tie my hair up with a scrunchie and step into my shower. This is undoubtedly one of my favourite places on earth and possibly the reason that I bought this flat. Large enough for two, I suppose. Although none have yet been invited to partake in this heavenly experience. Maybe I’m saving that for someone extra special. It has a huge overhead rainfall shower head and a handheld shower head too.

My indulgences are all in here — a selection of expensive shower gels, scrubs and lotions and an assortment of huge fluffy bath towels. I choose a lavender scented gel and scrub all traces of the day from my skin.

Wrapping myself in one of my pristine white towels, I slather shea butter lotion on my slightly sun-burnt skin, noticing the uneven red patches where the sun cream hadn’t quite reached but at least it’s not sore.

A quick check of my emails shows there’s no word from James Fraser as yet, so I decide to just settle down to sleep and leave luggage worries until the morning. Fortunately, I had changed the sheets before my weekend away, so I simply unwrap my towel, leaving it in a heap on the floor and slide into bed. The feeling of the cool, crisp bedding against my skin is wonderful. I assume a sort of diagonal starfish position, not having to worry about any other occupants. It crosses my mind whether to reach for the tiny vibrator in my bedside drawer, but I’m too comfortable and drowsy for that, so instead I check my alarm and settle down for sleep.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Just a Friend #chapter 1 #Here goes

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albertasunrise · 3 years

Text

Coffee and Crisis - Chapter 1

So this is my first Mentalist Fanfiction with Marcus Pike. I loved the Mentalist and only recently realised that it was our dear Pedro that played the perfect Pike.

Summary: Marcus has been pretty unlucky in love. With a failed Marriage and engagement under his belt, will his luck finally change when he meets a pretty, young English girl in his favourite cafe?

Warning/Content: Angst, Blood and Injury,

Paring: Marcus Pike/ Original Female Character

It was a chilly day in September. The trees were almost bare of their leaves. Branches waving in the city breeze, sounds of wood knocking together joined the cacophony of city sounds. Marcus scrubbed a hand over his face as he approached the cafe that had become a staple in his morning routine, always stopping for a coffee and a muffin without fail before heading into the office across the street. This morning was no different except for one tiny detail. Her. His eyes locked with her's almost as soon as he pushed open the door, the small bell above jingling as the wood knocked against it. She was stood in line, eyes staring off towards the door as she waited to be served. He was instantly struck by her, giving her a smile as he pushed the door closed behind him and stepped towards her. She had dirty blonde hair that that was wavy and thick, sitting a little below her shoulders and framing her oval face. Her eyes were a seductive shade of green, accentuated my neat black eyeliner that flicked out at the edges and a subtle brown eye shadow on her lids. Her clothes told him the most about her. She was wearing a Retro Print Star Wars t-shirt that was tucked into her pale Levi jeans that were folded up at the ankles and a black, wool-lined denim jacket. He was instantly drawn to her. She wasn’t like the other women he saw here on a daily basis, tight work dresses, perfect hair and makeup with ridiculous heels that they couldn’t walk in. Not this girl, in her white converses and geeky, acid-wash t-shirt. Her eyes watched him as he came to a standstill behind her, glances and smiles being all they shared for a few moments as Marcus plucked up the courage to speak to her.

‘I like your shirt.’ He said finally, motioning to it with his chin.

‘Thanks.’ she replied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she gave him a warm smile.

‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ He stated, quickly glancing at the muffins to make his selection before returning his attention to her.

‘I’ve just moved here.’ She replied.

‘You’re English!’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yeah.’ She giggled, trapping her lip between her teeth ‘Well I’m half English.’ She continued ‘Mum’s English, Dad's Canadian so basically, I’m cursed to be too nice and apologise for everything.’

He laughed at her reply, his smile reaching his eyes as they held each other's gaze for a while. It was only broken when the Barista asked for her order. Latte and a Lemon and Poppyseed Muffin. She knew exactly what coffee Marcus wanted, asking his muffin selection for the day before getting to work making their orders.

‘So are you a Star Wars fan or did you just like the shirt?’ He joked.

‘Oh no, I love it.’ She replied, laughing nervously ‘I’m a huge geek.’

‘I’ll let you in on a secret.’ He said quietly, leaning towards her slightly as she looked at him with anticipation ‘So am I.’

She laughed at that, covering her mouth in embarrassment at her sudden outburst. Her laugh was like music to Marcus’ ears, her smile addictive and he found himself wanting to see it more, hear it more. The sound of paper cups scraping against the stone countertop then pulled their attention away from each other.

‘That's Seven dollars.’ said the Barista.

‘It’s on me.’ said Marcus suddenly, handing her the money for both orders.

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ she replied as she looked at him with surprise.

‘Call it a welcoming gift.’ he stated, giving her a genuine smile before holding the door open for her.

They came to a stop outside, Marcus holding out his free hand ‘I’m Marcus.’ He said, smiling as she took it and gave it a shake.

‘Ada.’ she replied.

‘Nice to meet you, Ada.’ Smiling he glanced across the street towards his offices ‘I better get going,’ he continued.

‘Uh yeah, same.’ she replied, her smile dropping slightly at the thought of them parting ways ‘Best not be late on my first day.’

So they parted ways, giving each other a small wave before Marcus sprinted across the street and disappeared through the tinted black glass doors. From that day on, he saw her every morning. She would wait for him and they would queue together, taking it in turns to buy each other's coffee’s whilst they talked about movies, books and art. Marcus learned that she’d studied it at college back in the UK but had decided against pursuing a career in it. He learned that she was a personal assistant but that she worked remotely from her apartment around the corner. She had been engaged to a guy she’d met in college. They’d been together for almost 7 years when she was offered the job in the US and he’d told her that he didn’t want to move with her. So they had ended things, her moving a few weeks later.

‘So have you spoken to him since you arrived?’ he quizzed, sipping his coffee.

‘I spoke to him a few days ago.’ she replied, taking a bite out of her muffin ‘He’s been dating.’

‘Ouch.’

‘No, I’m happy for him.’ She replied, her tone surprisingly genuine ‘He’s never done the dating thing really. Just sort of fell into relationships… Hell, he was single 3 days before we got together.’

‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘Are you dating?’ He asked, his question making her choke on the coffee she’d just sipped.

‘No. Wouldn’t know where to start.’ She replied, taking another bite of her muffin and shifting in her seat.

They'd both agreed to meet in the cafe earlier that day, sit down and have breakfast for once.

‘I attract odd people.’ She continued, sipping her coffee.

‘Odd how?’

‘Well, I’m a girl… who’s a geek.’

‘Ahhh.’ He replied, understanding exactly what she meant.

‘You’re the first guy I’ve met that has been normal.’ she replied, her cheeks flushing a little ‘I don’t meet many people working from the office in my apartment either.’

‘I imagine not.’ he chuckled, giving her his signature smile that made her knees go weak.

‘Well, Marcus.’ She started, standing and throwing her coat over shoulders ‘This had been lovely but I need to get to work. Those meetings aren't going to arrange themselves.’

‘Yeah… Right.’ Replied the agent as he stood suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he knocked it back.

‘I guess I’ll see you Monday.’ she replied, giving him a small smile.

‘Well unless you’re free tonight?’ he suggested, his brown eyes ever hopeful.

‘I’m free.’ she replied, pulling her bag over her shoulder ‘What were you thinking?’

‘Dinner?’ he shrugged, giving her a small smile ‘Take you on your first date in the US.’

‘I’d like that.’ She replied, her heart racing.

‘Great! I’ll pick you up at 7?’

‘Perfect.’

He was there at seven on the dot. Ada had spent much of the afternoon panicking about what to wear, knowing that it was a date but not wanting to overdo it. She’d fallen pretty hard for Marcus, the man invading her dreams and leaving her flushed when she woke up. She looked forward to their morning talks, missing them when he was away and over the weekends. When he’d asked her out, she’d almost passed out from the excitement but somehow managed to keep her cool. As soon as her day had ended she tried to figure out what to wear, realising that she had brought very little with her. She pulled a black lace skater dress her friend Liv had given her just before she’d moved. She wore it with some grey heels and minimal jewellery. She did smokey eye makeup and a subtle pink lip stain, her hair in a loose bun with a few loose waves hanging down to frame her face. When three soft knocks sounded on her door she felt her heart in her throat, hands shaking as she grabbed her bag and keys before opening her front door. She felt her nerves melt away when she saw him. He was wearing smart jeans with a Burgundy shirt tucked in and a smart leather jacket that fit him perfectly. He beamed at her as he checked her out, feeling his own heart flutter in his chest at the sight of her.

‘You look beautiful.’ He stated, watching her as she stepped out and locked her door behind her.

‘Don’t look bad yourself.’ She replied, winking at him as they made their way down to his car.

The restaurant wasn’t far from hers and after a fair amount of convincing on her part they ended up walking instead, arms linked as they talked about each other's days.

‘Here we are.’ he stated as Ada looked up at the sign and laughed.

‘A Canadian restaurant?’

‘You told me that you were half Canadian.’ He started, smiling sweetly at her ‘A colleague of mine told me about this place the other day at work and I knew I wanted to bring you here. Is this okay?’

‘This is perfect.’ She chuckled as he opened the door for her.

The inside reminded her of Christmas’ with her grandparents in Canada. The walls we clad with wood and decorated with hockey jerseys, pictures, sticks and pucks. It was the cheesiest place she’d seen in years and she loved it.

‘I feel a tad overdressed.’ She stated, looking around at the other people in there.

‘’You look perfect.’ He replied sweetly, grinning when she got all shy.

They ordered their food which, true to Canada, was oversized and terribly unhealthy. The conversation was easy, new subjects easy to find when old ones were exhausted.

‘So you know all about my dating history.’ she said suddenly ‘I bet someone like you has had women throwing themselves at you.’ She finished as she shovelled some waffle into her mouth.

‘Hah!’ He laughed as he took a swig of his beer ‘Well… I’m divorced.’ he started, smirking when Ada’s eyes went wide ‘We were young, foolish. She cheated on me with my first partner at the FBI.’

‘What a bitch.’

‘Yeah…’ he replied, shrugging as he took another sip of his drink ‘And then last year I met an incredible woman, Teresa and fell head over heels for her. We got engaged but later that day she told me that she was in love with someone else.’

‘Oh my god, Marcus I’m so sorry.’ Ada felt a pang of guilt at the man's story ‘I shouldn’t have asked… I’m sorry.’

‘Wow you really are Canadian aren’t you.’ He smirked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

‘Shut up.’ she laughed, swatting his arm before returning to her waffles.

As they walked home, their hands kept grazing each other’s until he trapped her hand with his. They took their time walking back, hands swinging as they enjoyed the sounds of the city together. When they finally came to a stop outside her building she spun on her heels to face him, biting her bottom lip as she gazed up into his eyes.

‘Can I confess something to you?’ She asked, her eyes drifting down to their hands ‘This is the first proper date I’ve ever been on.’

‘What?’ His head shot back in surprise ‘Really?’

‘I never did the dating thing. I kinda met people and we just ended up together.’ She replied, looking away in embarrassment.

‘So how was your first date then?’ He asked, pulling her a little closer.

‘It was pretty good.’ She replied, green eyes sparkling up at him.

‘Only pretty good?’ he asked, giving her a devilish grin ‘What would it take to make it perfect?’

‘Hmmm.’ She pondered for a moment, a cheeky grin crossing her face as she stepped closer again, her chest flush against his ‘Perhaps a goodnight kiss.’

‘Oh really?’ he grinned as he laced his fingers around the back of her head.

‘Mhmm.’ she nodded, licking her lips in anticipation as he pulled her in.

He pressed his soft lips against hers, his left hand cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking her high cheekbone. She opened her mouth to deepen it, their tongues dancing together as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. She moaned against his lips as she felt a heat forming in her core, lacing her fingers through his hair as their kiss became more heated.

‘Did you want to come up?’

‘I’d love to.’ He replied, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye.

‘But...‘

‘But this is only our first date.’ He replied, pinching her chin with his thumb and pointer finger as he kissed her again ‘Let me do this properly. No jumping into things.’

‘Are you sure you’re not Canadian?’ She joked, grinning as he kissed her again.

‘Goodnight Ada.’ He replied, giving her one last peck on the lips before watching her walk away.

They spent most of that weekend texting like teenagers. They text about what they were doing, what they were reading. They even ended up watching Empire Strikes back and talked on the phone to each other during. They then continued to talk to each other as they lay in their beds, talking about their schedules for the week and possible plans for the weekend. When they finally said goodnight they agreed to have breakfast together in their favourite little cafe in the morning. Once again the day started as it always did. They stood in line together, ordered their coffees and muffins and sat at their usual table beside the counter. The conversation, as always, was easy and relaxed. They joked about how lame they were talking on the phone in bed like two smitten teenagers. Secretly though, neither of them had wanted to hang up. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of sirens, screaming and shouting suddenly erupted in the morning air and the door of the cafe crashed open. Two masked guys came screaming in, guns waving above their heads and sending everyone into a frenzy.

‘Everyone get down!’ they shouted, pointing their guns at the customers who were crouching with their hands above their heads.

Marcus instantly switched into FBI agent mode, his right hand wrapping around his gun as looked at Ada beside him.

‘Stay down.’ he whispered as he squeezed her arm and started to stand.

‘Hey, Jackass I told everyone to get down.’ Shouted one of the men, waving his gun at him as he spoke.

‘Let these people go.’ he said, taking a step towards them.

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Dunno but he’s clearly got a death wish.’ One sniggered,

‘I’m Agent Pike.’ He started, hand still wrapped around his gun ‘I work for the FBI. If you let them go I can help you come to a peaceful solution.’

‘FBI huh?’ the leader replied, tilting his head to the side as he studied the agent across from him ‘Well you’ll be useful.’ He stated, pulling the trigger and sending Marcus stumbling backwards

‘NO!’ Ada screamed as she threw herself to his side, catching him as his legs gave out beneath him ‘Marcus…. Marcus look at me.’ she pleaded, shaking him as his eyes darted around the room in shock.

The agent rolled his head to look at her, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to suck in a pained breath. He could feel his shirt soaking quickly with the crimson lifeblood that gushed from the bullet wound to his abdomen. Ada’s shaking hands desperately tried to keep pressure on it as she held him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. She leaned him against the counter and tore her cardigan from her shoulder, pressing it down hard on Marcus’ stomach which elicited a pained moan from the agent.

‘Well I’m sure this isn’t how you saw breakfast going.’ he joked, placing a shaky hand on hers.

‘Not exactly no.’ She replied, smiling at him grimly as she watched her cream cardigan slowly turn red.

The phone to the cafe rang and the leader answered, screaming his demands to the police on the other end.

‘You will give us what we want or the Federal Agent that’s currently bleeding out on the floor isn’t going to make it.’ he growled, shooting a look at Pike ‘You give us what we want or Agent Pike will die… You have one hour.’ he finished, slamming the handset down on the counter and storming off.

Time seemed to crawl by. Ada watched the minutes ticked by, willing time to go faster as she felt Marcus slipping away from her. Half an hour passed and his skin tone had taken on a sickly grey shade, dark bags forming under his eyes as each breath came in short, laboured pants. She watched as his eyes start to droop, panic rising inside her as his head dipped.

‘Stay with me.’ she pleaded, lifting his head so that she could look him in the eye ‘You need to stay awake.’

‘Talk to me.’ he asked, leaning into her touch.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘’Will you go on another date with me?’ he asked suddenly, taking Ada by surprise.

‘What?’

‘I want to take you out on another date.’ he stated, giving her a weak smile.

‘Of course, I’ll go on another date with you Marcus.’ She sobbed, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

‘G-good.’ he stuttered, feeling his strength start to seep away.

‘And then afterwards I want you to stay with me.’ She continued, desperately trying to keep him with her a little longer ‘I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, I have a posh coffee machine that makes amazing coffee. Then we’ll spend all day watching old movies, eating junk food and making out.’

‘Sound’s good.’ He replied, smirking at her weakly.

Ada watched as he started to lose the fight, his lips taking on a startling shade of blue as breathing got harder and harder. A sudden cough painted his lips with blood splatters and her stomach sank. She knew the longer they waited, the less time Marcus had left. Grabbing a napkin from the counter above, she wiped the blood from his lips before placing a soft kiss on them. Marcus felt his heart flutter at the feeling of her soft lips on his, kissing her back before everything went black.

~§~

Chapter 2

#Marcus Pike #Marcus pike x original female character #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro pascal #mentalist fanfiction

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph! How you’re doing? First of all, I wanna say that I love your lists. So, I was wondering, do you have some long Johnlock fics? Like, with a bunch of chapters and all that. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

I absolutely do! And you know what?? I’m gonna be selfish: No one has ever EVER asked me for my shorter long fics, so I’m going to take this opportunity to finally release this list, because it’s been sitting in my drafts for YEARS lol. BUT you can check the list below for the links to all my longer-fics lists! Happy reading!!

NOVELLA LENGTH FICS: 20-25K

See also:

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w., 7 Ch. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson's urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 1 Ch. || Texting, Humour, Post S2) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w., 6 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He's charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w., 20 Ch. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w., 8 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty's plans? John's supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w. 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

The One With the Proposal by kim47 (E, 22,375 w., 3 Ch. || Fluff, Romance, Marriage Proposal) – Proposing shouldn't be this difficult.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w., 64 Ch. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

Once Upon a Beast Becoming by antietamfalls (T, 24,042 w., 6 Ch. || Beauty and the Beast AU || Magical Realism, Folklore, Celtic Mythology) – An act of pride, a druid’s curse, an enchanted leaf; Sherlock’s torment has lasted an age. Hope arrives in the form of one John Watson, a man uniquely suited to break the spell. But with a single night to win his affections, Sherlock finds his carefully laid plans disrupted by a monstrous killer whose sights are set on the only thing he has left to lose: John.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

The Sexual Awakening of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson by suitesamba (M, 24,579 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, H/C, First Kiss/Time) – Sherlock owes Mycroft a favor. Mycroft calls in that favor by offering Sherlock's consulting services in a charity auction. Sherlock and John soon find themselves at the country manor of Mrs. Ives-Patton Smarmington III - not very coincidentally a long-time friend of Sherlock's mother - where they are reluctant participants in her Murder Mystery Weekend. It's a play within a play for Sherlock and John, and their roles for the weekend event bleed over into their real lives, waking the sleeping dragons within.

Tomorrow's Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining, Jealous Sherlock) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w., 4 Ch. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #20 to 25k #long fics #Anonymous

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azierella · 3 years

Text

Chapter 16

“Compared to children of the same age, you are more outstanding... I don't know if I praised you that much.”

"......."

I shut my mouth.

'I should have answered more foolishly.'

I regretted it inside.

I think let's not do anything too noticeable, but I sometimes crossed the line because I don't know what it was like when I was seven.

"..... A genius who only comes out once every few decades, it's burdensome."

At that, my mother smiled softly.

"Aisha."

Her call, which seemed to mean something, made me nervous.

"Yes, mother."

I had a feeling she was going to say something important.

It was a hunch I got from staying with her for a long time.

Then, her mouth opened.

"What do you want to do in the future?"

"..... what?"

I blinked my eyes.

"I'm asking you what you want to do in the future."

My mother laughed as if she were having fun.

"I've known you for a long time. Do you remember the noble lady who came to teach you when you were young was amazed?"

I blushed a little bit.

"But again, after listening to Scholar Almin, I became more and more worried about what I should do for you in the future."

"......"

"Aisha, anything is fine. If there's anything you want to do, I'll tell the Emperor and this mother will support you."

Her eyes were filled with sincerity.

"Since you were a child, you said that you wanted to study further by becoming a scholar. If you want to try something new, I will bring in scholars, and if you want to experience more, I will show you the wide world.”

"I….."

I hesitate.

At my reaction, my mother sighed.

"I think I spoke too hastily."

Mother looked a little embarrassed.

"Think about it."

I blinked. And my mother held my hand warmly.

"No matter what path you choose, I will support you. Besides, you're still a lot younger. There's endless possibilities."

The possibilities are endless.

"Or……"

Mother seemed to think for a moment.

"Why don't we do this?"

"What?"

"There's a spring festival this time."

Spring festival.

It is an event to thank the God of Light and pray for the arrival of spring that represents life.

From the first day of the festival, when the bells ring in the temple, people will try to keep themselves neat all week.

In addition, there are some of the most influential women in the imperial family, namely tea ceremonies hosted by the empress for generations.

"Wouldn't it help you decide what you want to do if you meet a lot of children around your age at the Spring Festival?"

Children with the same age.

I was quite surprised.

It was because I never showed up in public.

It was nothing other than my family that spent too much time with me.

My brother Isis has the right to interfere of preventing me from choosing an escort knight because he said that he would protect me in his own way, and my mother didn't show up well in front of others because I hid my face. The gist of the argument was that my father won't let me go outside because I was too precious to him.

My father said : "If you take Aisha outside the palace because of poor consideration, what should I if there is an accident?"

So I don't have a friend who can play together.

Of course, for me, playmates of the same age were too inconsistent with my mental age, so that would have been difficult in its own way.

But now that I'm seven years old, my mother seems to want me to make some friends.

Although I am not very interested in other children, I still accepted my mother’s advice.

'All right.'

I nodded slowly.

"Yes, I'll try that."

Mother smiled broadly.

After separating from my mother, I came into my room alone.

The desk in front of the window where I always think deeply.

What kind of person I will be in the future. It wasn't that I never thought about who I wanted to be.

But…..

There was one thing that caught me.

'Revenge'

My future was like a snapped crevasse.

I dream of revenge, I can't forget the Kingdom of Edenbell, and my previous life.

To put it simply, I have been living in the past.

I couldn't get out of my previous life, and I was like spinning round and round.

I couldn't forget my past.

Because It is also part of my life.

However, it was a problem that I couldn't turn a blind eye to those who help me everyday and want to make me happy.

It's too hard.

I sighed deeply.

I have to think about the spring festival.

But now is the time to focus on what I can do.

****

After two days, I visited the Imperial Palace Library.

It was the hour before the morning dew had even gone away.

I had a reason to be in such a hurry.

'Today is the day.'

I've removed all the beginner's ancient languages since yesterday.

Although it was difficult, I was able to infer the meaning from the appearance of the letter to some extent because I learned the basic vocabulary and learned the principles of formation.

If so, it is time to go into action.

I could feel my heart pounding.

Passing through the dewy palace garden, I saw a familiar librarian as I entered the library.

He was a librarian at the palace who worked here for a long time, and even if I was young, he would never take my standards and always recommend quality books.

I approached the librarian with his greetings.

He talked to me with a big smile.

"Your Highness, you came very early today. The library has a new batch of books, would you like me to read it for you?"

Originally, I would have had a conversation with him for quite a long time. Because the books he recommends were always interesting.

but today, I want to hurry up and read books about ancient languages as soon as possible.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but I don't have time right now."

I said as I walked to the bookshelf in the corner.

He chased after me and said to me in a mysterious tone.

"Uh, Your highness. There are ancient books over there."

It was understandable that he wondered.

But I turned my head and answered.

"I know that."

His eyes widened at my words.

"What? I, uh…."

I could see he was very embarrassed.

Rather than answering his questions, I chose to walk proudly to the ancient language bookshelf.

His dismayed voice came from behind.

"Is it true that the young Empress has learned ancient language?"

That can't be true.

And I soon arrived at the bookshelf where the room was opened like a warehouse.

After asking the guard and maid to wait aside, I started to read the book.

The ancient bookshelves are full of books.

But compared to other bookshelf, the ancient language books were very small.

This is the Imperial Library, which contains all the important books of the Empire.

'It can't be helped.'

I've decided to settle for this. There might be a book I want to find for myself.

Inside the bookshelf, I smelled an old book. It also means that the condition of the book is very old.

As I studied each and every title of the books, I was soon a little disappointed.

'.... I can't read it.'

Is it because I'm still a beginner in ancient languages? The letters were half.

I raised my hand and touched each of the embossed letters on the back of the book.

'Illusion…. human'

'Make…. law'

'Public….. books'

No matter how hard I tried to squint and guess the meaning, I couldn't tell.

'..... Phew'

It was a little droopy.

Can I find information about spirits among books that I can't even read?

'...... Just in case.'

I gently searched through the books and after a long time, I finally found a book that seemed very useful.

The History about the Elves.

'Yes! This is it!'

I couldn't control my joyous day.

When I was overjoyed, the spirits near me flew excitedly, perhaps influenced by my feelings.

'Now, if I study this book, I may be able to learn a little bit about the Spirit of Elves.'

Holding the book in my arms, I quickly borrowed it and tried to go back to my room.

What elves called me.

— Aisha, Aisha

Some spirits twirled around and pointed to a book.

— That book

— Go and take a look

On the side they pointed to was a very old book.

'You want me to take a look?'

I blinked my eyes.

Not only is it old, it's also a very thin book.

Most of the books on this ancient language shelf were leather-covered for long preservation, which seemed to have just scribbled on plain paper.

I looked at the faces of the spirits.

These elves could communicate with me, but they can’t express it clearly or describe it in detail.

Maybe it's because I'm not good enough, or maybe because these elves are still young.

Therefore, when they want to say something to me, they often use body language to express their thoughts.

And even now, they were telling me desperately.

— Please read this book

— You have to read it!

'I have to read it?'

I stared at them.

When I slowly approached and opened the book, it was also a strange book.

There was no title on the back of the book or on the cover.

There is only one strange magic pearl on the cover.

'Is it a book about magic?'

Thinking so, I wondered what to do with the book.

'..... Well.'

If the spirits are calling me this desperately, there must be a reason.

I decided to borrow the book together.

'I got it.'

When I nodded, they held their hands and danced happily.

Seeing that, I thought I did a good job, so I ended up with a smile around my mouth.

'Then I will take this book back and have a look.'

I prepare to leave the library with the guard and the maids.

Suddenly a voice called me from behind.

"Aisha!!!"

This voice, It's definitely "him".

I turned around in surprise.

As I thought, it's brother Isis.

Perhaps to solve the homework given by scholars, his hands were full of books.

He smiled at me.

"What are you doing here?"

Then he seemed to have seen me holding a book in my hand.

I was like "Oops."

The old, magical book seemed a little suspicious to me.

I unknowingly hid the book behind me.

"...... Aisha?"

He called me wonderingly.

[ T/n : please don't get confuse abt the chapters, the prevs translator definitely divide the chs and this is MTL it's not 100% accurate I only proofread what I understand and leave what I cant understand, and also english is not my first language so (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) This series will update with 2 chapters everyweek that is if i'm not busy i only tl on my free time that's all. Have a nice day! ]

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Everybody Knows You're High, 4/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

Summary: It’s not just the weed this time, Raja’s in love, and Manila’s about to make a confession.

A/n: this is one long-ass chapter of feelings and lesbian porn lmao. this is specifically for the anon from a few weeks ago who requested manila smut, here ya go :P also thank u to V&albatross for your encouragement and for letting me play in your world lol <3

tw: weed, mild second-hand embarrassment, smut: 80% sexy, 20% disgusting, 100% dumb ;)

Manila stood in her steamy bathroom leaning against the edge of the sink, with a towel wrapped around her body, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Last night had been… a lot.

She’d just gotten out of the shower, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the late night, the stress and the hangover. The hangover wasn’t as bad as Manila thought she deserved. Chugging straight vodka from the bottle in a state of emotional turmoil had been a terrible idea.

However, a part of herself that she’d been suppressing for too long was raising its head, this time with hope. Parsing out what Raja had been trying to say last night had practically required a cryptographer, but Manila was like eighty-seven percent sure that Raja had said she liked her, and was interested in… maybe dating. Or something. It all got a little blurry after she’d kissed Raven.

Manila stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror and left the bathroom, walking quickly down the hall in her towel to her room to get dressed. She examined one of her nicer shirts, and that corduroy mini-skirt she liked, and then decided not to get her hopes up. She pulled on a pair of dark blue sweatpants with the college’s name written across the butt. But her hand lingered over her one of her nice bras, an elegant black one with red lining, and after a brief but eventful internal wrestling match, she put it on. And covered it with a T-shirt and a hoodie.

After having breakfast, drying her hair, scrolling through her phone, cleaning the bathroom, killing time and receiving no texts from Raja, but not sending any either, Manila put her hands on her hips and sighed.

Manila had two choices. She could go across the street and actually talk to Raja about her feelings, or she could drop out of college, move to Canada, change her identity, burn her fingerprints off with acid and start again as an entirely new person.

Despite the strong temptation of option two, Manila chose option one and rushed out the door before she could psych herself out. She hurried up to to the familiar house across the street and a few doors down. Manila took a nervous breath as she knocked on Raja’s front door, immediately regretting that she hadn’t texted or something before just showing up. Maybe Raja wasn’t awake yet, or maybe she didn’t want to see her after she’d been so messy last night-

The door opened and Raja stood there. Her long black hair was wet and brushed straight like she’d just showered, and her loose, green linen shirt was damp where the ends sat on her shoulders. She looked suspiciously fresh and clean for the day after a party, but then Manila remembered that Raja had been sober the entire time.

“Hey,” said Raja, with a goofy, knowing smile.

Manila’s palms began to sweat, and her heart leapt out of her chest and prostrated itself on the floor.

“Uh- hi,” said Manila.

Raja stepped aside and Manila walked in to the living room, slipping off her shoes and glancing at the familiar couch. An empty bag of chips and a couple loose video game controllers sat abandoned on it. Usually she’d go right in and sit down, but that didn’t quite feel right today. Carmen’s voice drifted over from the kitchen, one half of a conversation she was having over the phone.

“We could talk in my room?” suggested Raja, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Her deep brown eyes were without expectation.

“Sure,” said Manila decisively, and walked quickly to the stairs and up to Raja’s bedroom, the first door on the left.

Raja’s room always surprised Manila. The first time she’d seen it she’d expected a total stoner disaster zone, but instead it was surprisingly neat. There was a beautiful piece of blue and gold paisley fabric tacked up on the wall, some clothes piled up on the back of the chair, and several mugs on the nightstand. Books, her laptop and some weed paraphernalia were scattered on the desk, but the floor was clean and the bed was pretty much always made.

Manila sat down on the edge of the bed, and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Raja sat down next to her, close but not touching.

“So…” began Manila, drawing out the word and wondering what exactly she was going to say. She didn’t want to be the first to admit her feelings. Part of her still felt afraid, instinctively evasive when talking about how she felt. “You like me, apparently.”

“Yeah,” laughed Raja, amused, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder, “Yeah, I said that.”

“Mm,” acknowledged Manila, already a little flustered by how Raja had just openly admitted it, like it was that easy. Everything was so easy for her. “Are you mad at me for kissing Raven?”

“For like a minute last night, but uh, it seemed more like you were mad at me, actually.”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset-” said Manila, and hesitated. Talking openly like this was outside of her comfort zone and she felt too warm and too awkward and… she would rather all of this be a big joke, to laugh it off again and hide how she really felt behind the humour.

“I’m sorry I decided to make that joke about you missing your opportunity when I was trying to be all serious or whatever,” said Raja quickly, all in one breath, “That was really stupid. I really did mean everything I said, except for that part.”

Manila nodded, the hurt rolling back over her for a moment. The feeling of rejection had been awful. But maybe that was how Raja had felt the first couple of times Manila had rejected and mocked her for expressing interest.

“It’s okay,” said Manila, cracking a smile, “You are incredibly stupid after all.”

“But I’m still getting better grades than you,” replied Raja, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

Manila looked at her hands. Raja was next to her, but she felt simultaneously closer and farther than she’d ever been. They were steering out of familiar territory towards something Manila both hopelessly longed for and horribly feared.

“I didn’t do anything with Yara, by the way,” confessed Manila, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“What, really?” replied Raja, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah I lied about that, she and Alexis love each other so much it’s gross,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. “I thought you’d been acting differently around me, so I… said that.”

“They do seem to love each other a lot,” confirmed Raja, nodding, a sneaky grin growing on her mouth, “You wanted to see if I got jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe in jealousy,” sniffed Raja imperiously, “Love should be free.”

“You’re such a fucking hippie,” said Manila, shaking her head, amused, “And you were jealous, you were stomping around like a six-year-old having a temper tantrum.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” acquiesced Raja, with a laugh. “You were really winding me up, though!”

Manila laughed as well, following the shift of energy between them into lighter territory. She twisted her fingers in the sheets on Raja’s bed for a moment, and sat up straighter, looking at Raja carefully. Raja’s green linen shirt draped elegantly over her tall, angular frame and it suited her nicely, despite the damp shoulders from her hair. A curl of interest announced itself in Manila’s core.

“So, uh,” said Manila, regretting her decision to wear sweats and wishing she’d at least tried to look nice. Raja’s expression was open, but her shoulders were a little stiff, almost nervous. Manila wanted to ease the tension, she wanted Raja to be comfortable around her again, and get rid of this stupid distance she’d built up between them.

Manila decided she was going to be brave, and asked, “Do you still wanna make out?”

Raja blinked in shock and then grinned and gave a happy little shrug, and said, “Yeah, totally.”

Before Manila could stop herself, before she could let herself think, she leaned in. Raja did the same, and shifted closer to her on the bed, pressing their legs together. Manila hesitated for a moment, the tension between them burning hot, more intense and awful than it had ever been, before Raja brushed her lips over Manila’s and they captured one another in a soft kiss. A high-voltage thrill shot down Manila’s spine, turning to instant, uncontrollable heat between her legs.

Raja’s confidence was contagious, and Manila kissed her back, tentatively parting her lips and tasting Raja with her tongue. Raja touched Manila’s waist, her other hand going to the back of her neck and tangling up in her hair. Manila’s body was taking over completely, the thrill drowning out her every doubt.

Raja was very pleased with how the morning had progressed so far, as Manila broke their kiss to push her down on the bed, a look of pure, unadulterated desire in her eyes.

“Oh, hello,” purred Raja as Manila straddled her, and Raja shifted a little so that she was at a better angle, her head propped up on her pillow. Manila lifted her hoodie up over her head, and the plain T-shirt undershirt underneath hiked up so that Raja caught a glimpse of her toned stomach before Manila threw the hoodie to the floor. Raja’s breath quickened, and she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. She was so happy that this was finally happening, that Manila wasn’t angry with her and seemed quite interested in being more than just friends. There were so many fun directions this could go-

“Hi,” breathed Manila, leaning forward and quashing Raja’s efforts to get her shirt unbuttoned. Manila kissed her again, this time taking charge in a way that Raja found very sexy indeed. Raja caressed her waist through the thin fabric of her shirt. Manila stroked Raja’s still-damp hair, her hands exploring Raja’s scalp as they made out thoroughly. The smell of Manila’s lavender conditioner filled Raja’s nose.

Manila ducked her head, going for Raja’s neck. Raja sighed, gasping when Manila introduced her teeth to her skin. Oh, this was excellent, this was lovely. Manila was so much more than Raja had expected, and pleasant excitement filled her mind. Raja’s hands drifted from Manila’s waist down her back to grip her beautiful, muscular, college-logo-emblazoned ass.

Fuck yes.

Manila laughed quietly into her neck, pausing for a breath, and rolled her hips against Raja. Raja pushed her thigh up a little to give Manila something to grind on, if she wanted to. Even the hint that Manila was truly letting her guard down and trusting Raja like this was very exciting-

Manila breathed in sharply, her face still pressed into Raja’s neck, and rolled her hips again, and Raja felt Manila’s warm body through her thick cotton sweatpants. Raja took her opportunity and lifted her head slightly, kissing Manila’s neck in return, still gripping her ass and encouraging her to grind against her thigh.

“Raja-” breathed Manila as Raja kissed what must be a sweet spot. Raja couldn’t wait to learn all her sweet spots.

Manila sat back, pulling Raja with her so they were both sitting up, Manila still straddling her lap.

“Can I…?” murmured Manila, touching the buttons on Raja’s shirt.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Manila fumbled to undo Raja’s shirt buttons and Raja kissed her neck again. Now that they were sitting up, Raja touched Manila’s lower back and guided her to keep grinding on her thigh, since they were in an excellent position for her to do so. Manila bit back a little moan, visibly distracted from her task and it sent a tingle throughout Raja’s entire body. Manila was getting so hot and bothered already, and they were still practically fully clothed.

In fact, Manila’s hips were moving quicker now, rocking against Raja’s thigh, but she finished with the buttons and pushed Raja’s shirt back down to her elbows, then blinked with surprise.

Raja wasn’t one to wear a bra unless it was absolutely required of her.

“You can touch me,” whispered Raja, kissing Manila’s ear.

Manila did, gently palming Raja’s small breasts, and continuing to roll her hips. Now Raja could really feel the heat between Manila’s legs and let out a surprised half-moan herself as Manila caught her nipple between her fingers. Manila’s expression was hazy with lust, as she bit her lip and rutted down even harder, and Raja was almost surprised that Manila was so turned on by this minimal amount of contact.

“Is it okay if I-” said Raja, and touched the front edge of Manila’s sweatpants.

Manila nodded semi-frantically, and Raja went for it, reaching past her waistband to feel how gloriously warm and wet she was, even through her underwear. Manila moaned aloud, and ground down against Raja’s fingers and Raja, absolutely thrilled, slid her fingers inside her underwear.

Manila inhaled sharply at the skin-to-skin contact, rolling her hips hard and fast and clutching Raja to her. Raja decided to go for more, gently slipping two fingers past her folds and up into her soaking wet pussy-

“Oh my god, fuck-” managed Manila.

Manila’s back arched and her hip thrusts became erratic, quick, and she let out another barely suppressed moan, burying her face in Raja’s neck, panting hot breath against her skin, clenching around Raja’s fingers with a sudden gasp-

Suddenly Manila stopped moving, she pushed herself back. She flopped backwards off of Raja’s lap onto her ass and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide, her expression utterly surprised and embarrassed.

Raja realized what had happened.

“You are so into me,” stated Raja, unable to resist the urge to tease Manila for it, wiping her fingers unceremoniously on her sheets and laughing. “You came from just that? Really?”

“Don’t,” whined Manila, covering her face with both hands and curling up into a ball.

“We’ve barely been going for five minutes-”

“It’s just been a while for me,” complained Manila, her voice muffled behind her hands, “I’m sorry…”

Raja crawled over to her, taking her hands away from her face and kissing her.

“No need to apologize, you’ve got more where that came from, right?” asked Raja with a grin. The dull ache of Raja’s own arousal was still present between her legs.

“Yeah…”

“Great, hopefully this time I’ll get to actually take your clothes off.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” replied Manila dryly, sitting up. She looked slightly less embarrassed, pushing a few stray curls back out of her face.

Raja kissed Manila’s face again, unable to stop herself from smiling, smug. It seemed like Manila did actually like her, or was at least very, very attracted to her. Raja appreciated the vindication, and imagined the afternoon ahead. It looked like they’d be spending it here, making out and having sex, and taking a few breaks for food and weed, and that seemed most excellent.

“What do you want to do?” asked Manila. She reached out and hesitated, before running her fingers across Raja’s collarbone and then down her arm. Raja vaguely remembered her shirt, which was mostly off, open with the sleeves caught around her elbows. She took it off entirely. Raja was comfortable with her body and didn’t mind being naked, especially when it was making Manila so distracted.

“I want to…” began Raja, before shrugging, “Actually, I just want to roll a joint and share it with you, if you’re into that, and then eat you out for like forty-five minutes.”

Manila laughed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, let’s get a little high, it won’t hurt.”

“It might even help you last longer…” teased Raja gently, not that she really cared. If Manila got off so quickly and easily, then Raja would gladly spend the entire day making her come over and over and over-

“Stop!” protested Manila, but she couldn’t help her smile.

Manila was so embarrassed that she’d pretty much finished immediately from the barest of contact like a desperate, touch-deprived lunatic, but luckily the feeling was fading. Raja didn’t seem to mind, despite her gentle teasing.

Manila had surprised herself more than anything. She was usually a bit… well, stiff maybe wasn’t the right word, but during hookups or sexual encounters she wanted to make sure she came off as sexy and fun, and that she did everything right. This was always particularly strong in her mind when she was with guys. But what was right was a vague and every-changing notion, a bit of a performance, kind of acting like girls did in porn except more chill, and trying to read what the other person liked and expected of her. It was difficult to relax. Certain walls always remained up.

But not today.

Today, Manila had completely melted the second her lips had touched Raja’s. Her body had taken over, unmitigated. Tasting Raja’s neck, grinding on her thigh, touching her skin and feeling her hard nipples, and Raja slipping her knowing fingers inside of her had made Manila feel so alive-

Maybe this was what it was supposed to feel like.

They had the entire afternoon ahead of them, so Manila lounged on Raja’s bed in her sweatpants while Raja got out a jar of weed and a grinder, confident and relaxed and wonderfully topless.

“Ugh, I left my rolling papers in the living room again,” sighed Raja, leaning over to give Manila a lingering kiss that sent a thrill right down her spine again, “I’ll be back.”

With that Raja got up and strolled across the room, opening her door-

“Don’t you need a shirt?” asked Manila.

“Nope.”

Manila laughed as Raja left and padded down the stairs. Her voice drifted up from the living room.

“Hey Delta.”

“Hey. So it’s a tits out kind of day?”

“Yeah, have you seen my rolling papers?”

“Over there.”

“Thanks! Did you hook up with that guy last night?”

“Yeah, and he was surprisingly good in bed-”

Manila tuned out the conversation, remembering her nice bra and wondering if she should just take her clothes off now and maybe fix her hair and find some way to recline on the bed so she’d look hot when Raja came back up-

But then Manila realized Raja didn’t care about that, and that really, she didn’t either. Manila lay back down on her side, breathing in the smell of Raja’s pillow. It smelled just like her hair, and honestly, Manila would be totally happy just to exist right here in this moment and never leave it. The voice in the back of her head chimed in, you know you still haven’t told her how you really feel-

“-yeah, she’s up in my room, I think we’re figuring it out.”

“Oh thank god! You’ve been stressing about that for ages. So that’s why you don’t have a shirt on…”

“Yeah, we might get kinda loud, so… sorry in advance.”

There was a smug evil to Raja’s voice, and Manila couldn’t help but feel smug as well. She imagined what exactly she could do to make Raja get loud…

“I was planning to go to the library anyway, bitch, I’ll send the bat signal to Carmen.”

Manila smirked at Delta’s sarcasm.

“Love you too!” sang Raja in response, and then Manila heard Raja’s footsteps on the stairs again. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. She should probably tell Raja about her stupid feelings. Raja had confessed her own, and while it was all still a bit vague, things were changing between them. Hopefully for the better.

Raja reentered the room, and flopped down on the bed next to Manila. Manila sat up and watched as Raja put a few weed buds into her little grinder and ground them up. Then she balanced a rolling paper in her palm, and carefully tipped the weed into it. Raja’s tongue darted out and wet the paper before rolling it into a cylinder, and something stirred in Manila’s core while she watched. Raja still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Manila couldn’t help her eyes lingering. Of course this too was easy for Raja, she didn’t seem self-conscious about her body at all. Manila was always a bit in awe of Raja’s effortless confidence.

The joint was ready before Manila knew it, because when it came to weed Raja was nothing if not efficient. The sun outside broke through the clouds and streamed in through the thin curtains on Raja’s window, hitting the side of her face, and she was so beautiful that Manila’s breath hitched with disbelief. Raja brought the fresh joint to her mouth, grabbed a lighter from her bedside table and lit up, breathing in deeply with a contented sigh.

Raja passed Manila the joint with a suggestive smile, and Manila took it, putting the filter between her lips and drawing in a deep breath, the gentle smoke seeping deep into her lungs.

“I-” said Manila, passing back the joint and coughing, “I should probably tell you something.”

“Mmm, what?” replied Raja, taking another hit and leaning in, nuzzling Manila’s neck.

“Uh,” continued Manila, now very distracted by the feeling of Raja’s luxurious lips on her warm skin, the slightly smoky air and the joint that was now in her hands again. Did she even want to tell Raja she’d been idiotically in love with her for like two years? Would it ruin everything?

Manila took another pull and blew the smoke out into the air, while Raja kissed her neck and snuck her hand into her shirt, tracing her waist with delicate fingertips.

“I’ve actually,” whispered Manila, noticing with interest the way Raja had pressed herself into her side, her nipples getting pointy again, “I’ve actually been into you for a while.”

“Really?” purred Raja, without stopping what she was doing. It felt really good. Manila passed her the joint and Raja took it, turning away from her neck only momentarily to inhale the sweet smoke.

“Yeah,” said Manila quietly, desperately wanting to make it all a joke, somehow, worried her confession would completely freak Raja out. But maybe it wouldn’t. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you like since we met.”

Raja pulled back from Manila’s neck. But instead of laughing at her, or looking awkward and pushing her away, Raja’s expression was open and curious.

“No way,” said Raja, cocking her head to the side, “Even that time I got those fireworks from my dealer, and we accidentally lit that tree on fire?”

“Yeah?” replied Manila, confused. “I mean, Delta was the only one with the wherewithal to call 911, but we survived.”

“Even that time I spilled coffee all over your good white shirt?”

“Yes,” said Manila, flatly, recalling the incident. The shirt had never recovered. And the burn had hurt.

“Okay, but what about when I was too high in the grocery store a few weeks ago-“

“All of the times, Raja!” exclaimed Manila impatiently, practically squirming with the discomfort of having confessed her feelings, “Every dumb thing you did, I still liked you. So I, I don’t know, maybe that makes me the stupid one.”

“Nah, you’re like the smartest person I know, other than me,” chuckled Raja affectionately, taking another drag on the joint and exhaling the smoke slowly, so that it drifted up around her face, ethereal, “I’m learning so many cool new things about you today.”

“Well,” sputtered Manila, defensive and insecure, “I don’t know if it’s cool-“

“It totally is,” continued Raja, utterly confident, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because, you know,” shrugged Manila, taking the offered joint and hoping it would calm her down a little, “You obviously prefer casual hookups or whatever, and I couldn’t really stand being just that to you- I just didn’t want to have to say it was totally fine and chill if you didn’t like me back-” Manila paused with horrendous panic, “I mean, you do feel the same way, right?”

“Yeah, I-” said Raja, her face suddenly shifting into to an expression that normally appeared when she was trying really hard to beat Manila at Super Smash Bros, “Wait, so you thought I’d think you were too intense or something?”

Manila passed her the joint and looked away, already knowing that she was too intense, that her feelings were nothing other than a humiliating mess and always would be. Well, she thought wistfully, it had been nice while it lasted…

“Manila,” sighed Raja, and Manila looked back at her and Raja was smiling, and blowing smoke into her face, “I can’t predict like the entire future, you know with the Mars colonies and stuff, but I really like you. Maybe you like me a little more than I realized, but that’s good because I thought you weren’t into me at all. So like, it’s cool. Let’s just see where it goes?”

Manila nodded, as her heart beat faster and she felt herself blush. She supposed she’d just have to trust Raja, and herself.

“But you really fucked up with Raven when you two were dating,” stated Manila, unable to stop her doubts from surfacing.

“Well… ” said Raja, hesitating, and then she sighed, “Yeah, I did. The whole relationship thing was her idea and I went along with it because, well, I wanted things to be easy… but I should’ve found a better way to end it.” Raja paused, and took Manila’s hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing, “I feel super differently about you, and about this. We’re friends first, right, before anything else.”

“Okay, yeah,” murmured Manila, plucking the joint, which wasn’t much more than a tiny roach, from Raja’s fingers and inhaling deeply, burning it right down to the filter. It seemed like Raja was genuinely on the path to some kind of self-awareness.

Manila reached around Raja to stub the end of the joint out in the decorative glass ashtray, and then let the smoke out through her nose with a giggle. Raja laughed along, and Manila finally began to feel the relaxed buzz under her skin. Getting high was nice, no wonder Raja did it all the time… Manila leaned in and kissed her again. Raja kissed her back, her hands going immediately to her waist again, pushing up under her shirt to touch her skin. Manila stroked Raja’s hair, and delicately held the back of her neck. Raja was already topless, but Manila was getting very interested in taking Raja’s shorts off as well…

They just had to trust one another, figured Manila, and maybe everything would be turn out alright.

Raja was happy and relaxed now that she’d had some weed and they were making out again. Manila had seemed stressed when she’d admitted her years-long crush, and while Raja was certainly a little surprised, more than anything she was pleased that her instincts had been right. It was making the strange new feeling in her chest glow a little brighter. But maybe that was just the weed.

“I want to take your shirt off,” murmured Raja. She’d seen Manila out running in her sports bra enough times to be real curious about what was underneath…

“Yeah, go ahead,” said Manila, moving her hand from the back of Raja’s neck down to her chest, running her thumb over her nipple in a way that sent a jolt of interest directly between Raja’s legs. She tugged Manila’s shirt up, and Manila lifted her arms and was momentarily caught with her shirt under her chin and around her elbows and Raja laughed at her and eventually they got it off.

Damn. Manila looked good, cute and toned and was wearing a suspiciously nice bra…

“You knew this was going to happen today, didn’t you?” said Raja.

“I might have suspected something,” said Manila with a smirk, sitting back on her butt as she easily tugged her sweatpants off of her legs.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“It’s my tragic flaw.”

Now that Manila was just in her underwear, the animal part of Raja’s brain kicked in. In an instant, Raja wanted to kiss Manila’s entire body, fuck her thoroughly, cuddle all night, move in and have a baby together, raise a bunch of feral kids and dogs, run a full-scale weed grow-op out in the country somewhere and just chill in the glorious California sunset until the end of time. Hmm. Raja decided that odd little fantasy was definitely just the weed talking, and took off her shorts and throwing them over the side of the bed, revealing her plain blue cotton underwear.

Now, that they were both pleasantly stoned and significantly more naked, things were starting to get interesting. Raja scooted closer to Manila, and ran her hands up her legs, letting out a weird gremlin-like giggle.

“You so don’t get to accuse me of being the horny one anymore,” chuckled Manila, taking Raja’s face in her hands and kissing her.

Raja sat back and pulled Manila into her lap, taking her time to kiss her. They explored one another, gentle and stoned. Raja stroked her way up Manila’s smooth back, her fingertips extra sensitive, and felt the band of her bra, reaching to undo it.

“Wait, don’t,” said Manila, and Raja’s hands stilled. Was something wrong? But Manila hadn’t pulled back, in fact she was pressing little kisses on Raja’s face, and kissed the shell of her ear in a way that sent a shiver throughout Raja’s entire body.

Raja dropped her hands to Manila’s hips and had a brilliant idea.

“Turn around,” suggested Raja into Manila’s ear.

“Mm, why?” replied Manila, shifting to kiss Raja’s neck.

“Because it’ll be fun…"

Manila laughed at her reasoning, and turned around so that she was sitting in Raja’s lap with her back to her. Raja immediately hugged Manila close, pressing her naked chest into her back and taking the opportunity to nip at her neck, eliciting a little yelp.

Raja ran her hand up Manila’s stomach touch her chest through her bra. Manila ’s breath hitched in response, and Raja took that as a positive sign, and reached up to ease her bra-straps off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to take my bra off,” stated Manila and Raja stopped again, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Do you not like being touched there?” asked Raja, momentarily nervous that she’d overstepped an invisible boundary, as Manila twisted in her lap to make eye contact.

“No, I like it, but,” said Manila, and hesitated.

“But?” asked Raja, in what she hoped was a gentle way, planting a little kiss on Manila’s shoulder.

“I just don’t like people looking at my tits.”

“Why not?”

Manila hunched a little, looking uncomfortable, and said, “Uh, this girl in middle school used to tell me they were a weird shape and I’ve kind of never gotten over it.”

Raja glanced down at Manila’s chest. Her breasts were contained in what was a truly nice bra and Raja found nothing weird about her body whatsoever.

“Well, fuck that bitch, she can die,” said Raja, in full seriousness.

Manila burst into laughter, “What, you’re gonna murder some girl from my seventh-grade gym class?”

“Yeah, what’s her name?”

“Jenny.”

“She sounds basic, I’ll shove her into traffic.”

“That’s very sexy of you but I’m still not taking my bra off,” chuckled Manila, blinking slowly. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but her body was relaxed with trust again, leaning back into Raja. Raja wrapped one arm around her waist and squeezed her close. As badly as Raja wanted Manila to be fully naked, she respected her wishes.

“I went to alternative school on what was basically a gay hippie commune,” murmured Raja, gently kissing the spot behind Manila’s ear, and tracing her fingers down her stomach, “There wasn’t really bullying. We all made flower crowns, ate quinoa, studied beekeeping and Buddhist philosophy, it ruled.”

“No wonder you’re so weird…” sighed Manila, with a little gasp as Raja ghosted her fingers over the sensitive skin just above the edge of her black underwear.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” purred Raja, now running her fingers over the distinctly damp fabric between Manila’s legs and then kissing her neck again. Manila shuddered and let out a whine, the sudden note in her voice that reminded Raja of how easily turned on she was. “And so do most bees.”

Raja shifted a little so Manila was more comfortable in her lap, and Manila spread her legs and Raja stroked the inside of her thigh, moving slowly closer to her centre. Manila didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, and after a moment of confusion she rested them on Raja’s arm across her waist.

“You’re like really hot, you have nothing to be insecure about,” murmured Raja in her ear, resting her head on Manila’s shoulder and wondering how she felt about praise and dirty talk.

Manila whined and arched a bit, trying to press into Raja’s hand. Then she turned her head, catching Raja’s mouth with her own in a sudden, intense kiss. Raja kissed her in return, and Manila reached back, tracing the back of Raja’s head and stroking her hair with a loose, exploratory hand.

“You’re definitely the hot one,” chuckled Manila, “But I really need you to start touching me, like right now.”

“Ask nicely,” purred Raja.

“Hmm…” hummed Manila, drawing it out, and then, her voice breathy and demanding, whispered, “Please?”

Raja’s own breath caught hearing her beg, and she immediately slipped her fingers past the waistband of Manila’s underwear, finding her clit in no time and stroking her with slow circles. Knowing how very sensitive Manila was, Raja went about her task with utmost delicacy.

Manila’s hand grasped into a fist in Raja’s hair on the back of her head and she arched her back and moaned aloud. It seemed she was lot more expressive after the weed and the conversation about their feelings. It sent electricity directly into Raja’s core, and she squeezed Manila to her with her opposite arm around her waist. Raja couldn’t help but increase her pace, Manila’s reactions were so exciting.

Raja slipped her fingers down lower, stroking experimentally over Manila’s folds to feel her utterly soaking wet pussy. Yes.

“Do you like this?” asked Raja.

“Yeah,” breathed Manila, tilting her head back to rest on her shoulder.

Raja slipped her fingers inside of her once more and Manila tried to rock her hips for more friction but Raja held her in place and began to move her fingers, agonizingly gentle, teasing and testing for the right spot that would make Manila lose her mind.

Raja found it, and Manila bit back a broken moan, her body jerking forward a little as she grasped Raja’s arm around her waist, her fingers digging in. Raja kept going, rubbing against Manila’s clit with the base of her thumb and pressing her fingers inside her, hitting the spot that made her react, again.

Manila panted and gasped, arching her back, and Raja kissed her shoulder. There was a sheen of sweat on her cleavage from the warm, sunlit room that Raja really wanted to lick, but she wasn’t in the right position to do so. Oh well. This was also very good, Manila’s wetness was dripping all over her hand as she gasped and rutted down with her hips.

“I’m- I’m getting close,” gasped Manila, digging her nails into Raja’s arm.

Raja then decided to something utterly evil.

Raja stopped, and slid her fingers out of Manila entirely.

“Wha-” panted Manila with desperate frustration as was she left on the cruellest edge, “Why are you-”

“Lie down on your back,” said Raja, letting go of her Manila’s waist, a plan forming in her mind.

“You are the worst-” complained Manila, and she shakily got out of Raja’s lap and crawled forward, giving Raja an excellent view.

“Have I ever told you that you have a fantastic ass?” commented Raja, shifting up onto stiff knees and cracking her neck in anticipation of the task ahead of her.

Manila glanced over her shoulder with a pouty, false-innocent look that set something inside of Raja on fire, and then she flopped down on her back, propping herself up on her elbows.

Manila looked so beautiful laid out like that that Raja paused for a moment just to admire her, the sheen of sweat on her chest, her messy hair, her blown-out pupils and the look of intense arousal on her face.

“Are we going to be here all day?” challenged Manila, pouting.

“Wow, someone’s a little brat,” teased Raja, leaning down and kissing Manila’s stomach.

Raja quickly hooked her fingers in Manila’s underwear and pulled them down her thighs as Manila lifted her hips to help. Then Raja lay down on her stomach between Manila’s legs and ran a finger over her wet, sensitive pussy, amazed by how turned on she still was. Raja couldn’t help but be flattered by the physical effect she had on Manila.

“When it’s my turn I’m going to make you suffer,” said Manila, but her threat was very much undermined by the broken moan that left her as she arched her back and bit her lip as Raja stroked her again.

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” smirked Raja, heady and pleased.

Raja ghosted gentle kisses around her thighs and her lower belly, and then laughed as Manila practically growled at her. But she wouldn’t make Manila wait much longer, Raja ran her tongue experimentally over her folds, the taste and sensation firing constellation-like synapses in Raja’s mind. Manila let out another whimper as Raja swirled her tongue around her clit.

Mmm, pussy.

Raja went to town, spreading Manila’s legs a little wider and adjusting the angle of her neck to stay comfortable. She built it up, keeping the rhythm on her clit with her tongue as she pressed her fingers up into the lovely wetness once more.

“This feels so good,” sighed Manila, and Raja flicked her eyes up at her expression. Manila’s cheeks had flushed pink, and she reached her hand inside her bra to play with her nipple, her eyelids fluttering momentarily with pleasure. She looked absolutely excellent, far more relaxed than Raja had ever seen her before.

Raja continued, building up her rhythm as Manila began to gasp and moan and roll her hips against Raja’s face. It felt so good to please her friend like this, the ache of Raja’s own desire still warm and insistent between her legs.

Raja hooked her fingers, finding her g-spot once again, and flicking her tongue over Manila’s clit, hard and rapid while Manila clenched her thighs and arched her back even more and moaned, pressing herself up against Raja’s face until Raja had to hold her firmly against the bed with her opposite hand. Raja steadily increased the rhythm on her clit, and Manila got louder and louder, cursing over and over, and moaning Raja’s name until Raja felt her movements get erratic, and her internal muscles clenched and-

Sudden liquid dripped out onto Raja’s hand, as Raja brought Manila through an orgasm so good it could move tectonic plates. Manila moaned pathetically, her breath heavy, clutching desperately at the sheets as she let Raja take care of her.

Someone banged on the door.

“Oh my god, Raja, this is excessive even for you-”

“Go away Carmen!”

“Sorry, Carmen,” called Manila in an unsteady, breathy whimper of a voice.

“Wait, you’ve got Manila in there? Congratulations, bitches!”

Raja laughed, and sat up, wiping her face clean on her loose shirt before flopping down next to Manila and curling in to her side. Manila propped herself up on one elbow and swallowed dryly, shaking her head, her eyes glazed over in amazed disbelief. She looked like she’d been thoroughly fucked, thought Raja with keen affection, along with immense satisfaction on her own part.

“Ugh, that was really nice, that was so good,” repeated Manila, rolling onto her side to face Raja, and Raja practically glowed with the praise, “But how do Delta and Carmen both already know about this?”

“I’m not great with secrets,” shrugged Raja, nuzzling Manila’s neck and cuddling up against her.

Manila didn’t respond, instead she cuddled back into Raja with a happy little sigh, shutting her eyes. There was nothing in Raja’s gently stoned brain but post-sex satisfaction. After a few minutes Raja sat up, tracing her finger down Manila’s body from her shoulder to her chest, then down the dip of her waist and up and rise of her hip.

“You’re a bit of a pillow princess,” teased Raja, with a smirk, “I’m not sure what I expected, but you’re such a bratty little bottom-”

“No I’m not!” protested Manila in offence, sitting up.

“Yeah, you are,” taunted Raja, with a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Bitch, I’m about to destroy you,” said Manila, stretching her arms over her head and cracking the knuckles in fingers intimidatingly. She gave Raja an evil smile that was only slightly off-set by her blissed-out expression.

Raja gulped, now regretting her choice to tease her friend. She knew Manila was competitive, but what beast had she awakened?

“Now show me where you keep your vibrators and get on your back,” ordered Manila, with a deliciously authoritative grin.

Raja’s heart leapt and the warmth between her legs, which had much been waiting for this moment all day, flared back to violent, excited life. She told Manila where the sex toys were and rolled onto her her back, pulling off her underwear and tossing them aside, so glad to be fully naked. Raja couldn’t wait to see what Manila could do.

Finally.

Manila selected a small purple vibrator from Raja’s extensive collection in the plastic bin under her bed, and sat back up. Raja lay out before her, stretching like a happy cat, a pleased expression on her face under her half-lidded, bloodshot eyes. Her body was beautiful, long and lithe with subtle curves. Manila couldn’t help but feel honoured that Raja was showing herself to her like this. A few days ago she’d have never thought this would happen in like, real life, outside of her fantasies.

The earth-shattering orgasm from a few minutes ago had been, uh. Phew. Manila’s body responded strongly to Raja’s presence, and she felt tired and a little faded. But the opportunity to please Raja in return was one Manila couldn’t pass up.

Plus, she kind of liked the whole bossy thing that Raja was bringing out in her.

Manila crawled on top of Raja and gently kissed her neck, holding herself barely an inch above her so that their bodies weren’t quite touching. All those abdominal workouts at the gym were proving handy. Raja’s neck tasted amazing, and she made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a purr that Manila really really liked. Raja caressed her waist, and arched her back, pressing herself up into Manila, their skin practically tingling where it met.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Raja. “I’m like so lucky,”

Manila smiled to herself and then sucked down hard on the corner of Raja’s neck where it met her shoulder. Raja let out an undignified squeak and Manila bit her just a little, knowing she’d have a reddish purple hickie bloom on Raja’s light brown skin later, and Raja moaned and arched into her further, wrapping her arms around Manila’s back and holding her close.

Manila tried to make some more space between their bodies, but Raja wasn’t really letting her. But Manila managed to sneak her hand between their bodies, flicking on the vibrator, and slid it between Raja’s legs, which she spread eagerly for her with a happy sigh. Raja was incredibly uninhibited, and that only encouraged Manila, making her bolder. It was so freeing to be intimate with someone like this and not worry about judgement. Or maybe that was just the weed talking.

But Raja was moving against her, rubbing herself up against the vibrator pressed between them, tangling her hand in Manila’s hair as she kissed her neck. Manila couldn’t help but fantasize about what else they might do as she held the buzzing device against Raja, drawing her pleasure out, from lazily fucking all afternoon to maybe a few more hardcore things… hopefully involving strap-ons, she was fairly sure she’d seen something like that in Raja’s box of sex toys.

Manila shifted the vibrator to a slightly different angle and Raja whimpered into her ear. Manila moved it gently against her, and reached between them again with her opposite hand to toy with her nipple.

Raja seemed to really enjoy that, because she arched her back and moaned something incoherent, rutting against the vibrator. Manila shifted down so she could lick and suck on Raja’s opposite nipple, pinching the other one as Raja let out an exhilarated yelp, and clutched Manila close, pressing her fingers into her back and rolling her hips. Raja’s body lithe arched and her breath was heavy, and then she slowed her hips, with a final little twitch.

“Did that feel good?” asked Manila, as she stood back up on her hands and knees and clicked the vibrator off, tossing it aside. She couldn’t help but ask, she wanted the approval.

“Mmm, yes,” replied Raja, sitting up and kissing her lazily. “But I’m not done, I want more of you…”

Manila smiled, almost blushing at Raja’s raw, simple statement of desire. But then Manila had an idea, and she turned on her back, lying next to Raja, who cuddled into her instinctively. It was so cute that Raja was physically affectionate, both platonic and romantic in equal measure, just like the way she’d been with her since they’d started being friends, but now with a different energy.

“Get up and sit on my face,” ordered Manila.

Raja blinked at her, and then grinned and got up with a slight grunt, straddling Manila’s chest with her long, beautiful legs bent at the knee.

“Have you ever done this before?” asked Raja, looking down at her, her long dark hair framing her face.

Manila narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her gaze on Raja’s face and not just stare at her pussy, which was really very much in her line of vision. Instead she ran her hands up Raja’s thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

“A lady never tells.”

“Oh, so you’re a lady now?” chuckled Raja, brushing Manila’s hair back so that she didn’t kneel on it as she shuffled forward, holding herself just above Manila.

“I’ve done it a couple times, it’s not that hard, come on,” whined Manila, vaguely realizing that her vow to tease Raja and make her suffer wasn’t going very well at this rate. Somehow she’d ended up being the one begging, again. In the future, when Manila had gotten used to this and was a little more, uh, composed around Raja, Raja would be the one begging. Definitely. For sure.

But Manila had a lot more important things to focus on, as Raja carefully lowered herself onto her face and Manila tilted her head back slightly, and held Raja’s hips. For once Manila didn’t doubt herself, they were figuring all of this out after all, emotionally and physically, and had plenty of time to do so.

If Raja was the kind of person who felt embarrassment about sexual situations, she might’ve felt a little embarrassed sitting on Manila’s face right now, or even embarrassed by how badly Manila seemed to want her. Luckily, Raja didn’t really feel embarrassed about sex, especially when she had a little weed in her. So, she very carefully held herself in place, sitting down but not putting the entirety of her weight on Manila’s face. She really didn’t want to break her friend’s neck, and/or accidentally suffocate her, that would not be a fun way to end the afternoon.

Manila lapped gently at her folds, quickly locating her clit and swirling her soft, velvety tongue around it. Raja exhaled through her nose, pleasure mixing with the hazy sensation in her mind, her aroused body quickly shifting back into gear. Mmm, Manila was so soft…

Okay, maybe she was a little more than soft, because she holding Raja’s hips very decisively, and encouraging her to rock against her. While Raja definitely didn’t want to hurt her or put on too much pressure the temptation to move was really strong. So Raja did, just a little.

Vaguely aware that she her own bodily juices were dripping all over Manila’s face and chin, Raja leaned forward slightly try to get a grip on the wall, her palms flat out.

“Is this- are you okay?” asked Raja, the shake in her voice giving her away as a a ripple of pleasure went through her body.

Manila nodded, confidently wrapping her arm around Raja’s thigh and pressing her in even closer.

“Mmh-” managed Raja, grinding slowly against Manila’s nose and mouth as Manila flicked her tongue against the delicate, tender skin around the entrance of her pussy, before pushing her tongue up inside her.

The wall wasn’t giving Raja much support, her sweaty palms were slipping and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. But this felt so good, the precarious feeling like she was unravelling. Manila’s lidded gaze flicked up to meet hers, and Raja was sure her face must have been ridiculous, her mouth open, panting and desperate with pleasure. Manila’s gaze was mischievous. Damn it.

A moan escaped Raja, and she wondered if it was the weed that was making her hyperaware of her hands right now, as Manila slipped her tongue in and out of her, building her up, and Raja ground herself on Manila’s face, hoping she wasn’t hurting her, babbling, “This feels so good, I- oh my god, fuck, Manila-“

This only seemed to invigorate Manila further, as she sucked on her clit in a way that made Raja’s eyes roll back in her head, as she felt the slick of sweat on her back. Raja slumped forward, and her hands managed to find the low board running across the head of her bed, which she’d forgotten about until this moment. Raja gripped it with one hand to make sure she wasn’t putting all her weight on Manila, and looked down again.

Manila’s beautiful hair was all shoved up behind her head to keep it safe from Raja’s knees. Raja tangled her hand in the beautiful black curls, the texture practically alive under her extra-sensitive fingertips. Manila somehow managed to nod that that was okay, and it electrified Raja even further and the entire world could have been burning and Raja wouldn’t have noticed, gasping as the pleasure wound higher and higher and her entire body tensed and unravelled.

After a several long moments of white-hot pleasure and astral-projection into outer space, Raja blinked and shuffled off of Manila, shivering from the aftershocks. Manila blinked, and turned her head to the side, cracking her neck. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, attempting to clean up the combination of Raja’s slick juices and her own saliva that was all over half of her face.

“Is your neck okay?” said Raja, her voice weak as she slid down next to Manila to cuddle. “Also, you might need a towel.”

“Yeah, my neck is fine,” replied Manila smugly. “Did I destroy you?”

“Yeah, you really did,” sighed Raja, pressing her face into Manila’s neck and breathing in, “I knew this was going to be awesome.”

Manila laughed quietly and kissed her cheek.

“I think we should have a nap,” whispered Raja, hazy relaxation taking over her limbs, “Then a snack, and some more weed, and then we can make out again later. Do you want to stay?”

“I have that research assignment I should be working on…” replied Manila, but she didn’t make any effort to get up, instead she reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the end of Raja’s blanket, pulling it around them both and snuggling in, “…but a nap sounds nice too.”

Raja couldn’t help but smile, slipping her arm around Manila’s waist and holding her close as she relaxed into a a gentle doze.

They’d finally stopped joking and dancing around each other, and it felt really, really good.

“I’m like so happy you rescued me from the grocery store that time a few weeks ago,” sighed Raja, reflecting on how it had all began, and passing her joint to Manila, who was tangled up in her lap on the living room couch.

After the excellent sex-filled afternoon a week ago, and several more conversations about feelings and boundaries, Raja and Manila had arrived at an arrangement of casual dating. They’d both just handed in major assignments and as such, were taking a break from the endless deluge of schoolwork to chill out. The relationship so far was great, relaxed and low-pressure enough for Raja to feel comfortable, but intentional and committed enough to suit Manila’s needs. Raja hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before, and was still working out what it meant, if anything. But more importantly, they were being honest with each other, and that was very sexy, and things felt really fucking good.

“Ha,” chuckled Manila, inhaling and blowing smoke back into Raja’s face, “Anytime, Raja. You’re a ridiculous human.”

“No, you are,” said Raja affectionately, kissing her ear and then moving a little lower to gently nuzzle her neck.

“They’re disgusting,” stated Delta from their left side, with a smile at the edge of her mouth as she played Super Smash Bros with Carmen, “I knew this would happen.”

“Yeah Raja, you’re so embarrassing,” laughed Carmen from their right side, leaning forward with the controller, and competing with Delta on the screen. Manila laughed along with her, and poked Raja’s side, teasing her.

“Aren’t you gonna fight her for my honour or something?” whined Raja to Manila in complaint.

“Nope,” chuckled Manila, kissing her cheek.

“You’re right, they’re terrible,” complained Carmen to Delta, but she accepted the joint that Manila passed to her anyway, with a smile.

Something interesting stirred in Raja’s stomach at Manila’s casual threat and she cuddled her a little closer, already excited to head up to her room later.

“We should make some ground rules,” stated Delta, jabbing at the controller, “No sex on the couch, for example.”

“Yeah, we already broke that one,” said Raja, with an evil grin.

“Oh my god, the couch is communal!”

“Wait, this couch?” demanded Carmen, mildly disgusted, glancing down at the cushions she was sitting on.

“Do we have another one?”

“No…”

“Okay, let go of me,” said Manila, gently removing Raja’s hand from around her waist and leaning forward, reaching for a controller. “I’m gonna join the melee.”

Delta and Carmen finished up their round as Manila got set up, and Raja reached past Carmen’s back to the side of the couch for some chips. Mmm, salt. Raja didn’t particularly feel like playing video games today, she just wanted to keep smoking and relax, but she didn’t mind if her friends did so around her. She shuffled so that she was sitting with her legs open with Manila between them, leaning forward. Manila’s body language was focused, and her thumbs moved rapidly over the joystick and the letter buttons, her grip was confident on the plastic controller.

Without needing to ask, Raja gently took Manila’s hair out of it’s ponytail, and carded her hands through it. Manila gossiped back and forth with Carmen and Delta, letting Raja gently weave little braids into her hair while they fought and trounced one another on the screen.

An easy, affectionate feeling came over Raja, one that was both familiar and new, glowing in her chest. Raja wondered vaguely if it was just the weed talking, again.

No, Raja realized as she heard Manila laugh and smiled to herself, this feeling had nothing to do with weed.

It was love.

#rpdr fanfiction #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #smut #fluff #everybody knows you're high #dartmouth420 #tw weed

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inspector2ndclass · 4 years

Text

The Mechanisms as Random Birds I Found on the Internet

Did anyone want this? No. Do I know anything about birds? Also no. Anyways, here’s a shitpost I spent way too long on.

Jonny d’Ville: Northern Mockingbird

First and foremost, here’s Jonny! An asshole! A bastard! An all around terrible person! He shall be a northern mockingbird. This fucking bird has no redeemable qualities other than that it is pretty and a GREAT singer. This is a very aggressive bird. Very territorial. If it had opposable thumbs, it would probably shoot you in like the foot or something. I don’t think these birds are very smart. Just like a certain “captain” that we know. The state bird of Texas, among all places. Never trust a texas. In true Texas fashion, the 1927 legislation declaring the Northern Mockingbird the state’s official bird stated that the species is “a fighter for the protection of his home, falling, if need be, in its defence, like any true texan.” Now Jonny burned down a Texas - maybe not this Texas but whatever. I read somewhere that a mockingbird could peck someone’s dick off, and honestly? Valid.

Gunpowder Tim: Southern Cassowary

Okay, hear me out. This bird is a little bitch - or rather a b i g bitch. In a good way. Look at this fucking bird. It’s majestic. Doesn’t it look just SO trustworthy. What a trustworthy man. And very pretty. Pretty, pretty bird. Who could squash you like a fucking ant. This is one Violent bird. Tim is one Violent person. The cassowary makes a low roaring sound like a fucking dinosaur. I love dinosaurs. DID I MENTION IT LAYS GREEN EGGS. Now you might say, well Tim is a human and humans don’t lay green eggs. Fuck you. It’s never explicitly stated that our very own Gunpowder Tim doesn’t lay green eggs. Also comes with a built-in helmet. As everyone except Tim and the southern cassowary says, safety first! Strikes me as a very egotistical bird. If the cassowary weren’t a bird, I don’t think it would wear a seatbelt.

Ashes O’Reilly: California Condor

Okay, so. This is a cool fucking bird. Just look at it. M a j e s t i c. Do you know who else is really fucking cool? Ashes. They have so much power. Also condors are beautiful birds. Oh my god. California condors are very graceful fliers. For Ashes, I almost went with the brown falcon - one of “Nature’s arsonists”, but other than arson, it’s a rather boring bird. Just brown. And a falcon. BUT THE CALIFORNIA CONDOR. Now that’s a cool bird. The god of the sky. Actually, in the “research” for this post I found a blog post in 2011 from someone who has genuinely worshipped condors as gods since they were a teenager and honestly? Valid. (disclaimer; I am aware that many native cultures worship animals and nature, however I don’t feel qualified to talk about that. I don’t mean any harm by this post.)

DrumBot Brian: Shoebill Stork

Well. I did have a rather difficult time finding a bird that has a complex set of moral values. Who would’ve thought?? I did almost use a praying mantis, just for a little variety. I’ve never met someone who wouldn’t rip off the head of their lover. BUT ANYWAYS. Here we have Brian the Shoebill Stork. He looks so nice. But he will not hesitate to decapitate your baby crocodile. Also very patient!! Like a dinosaur! This bird has the most complex set of moral values of any bird I could find in about thirty seconds. If Brian didn’t decapitate so many young crocodiles there would be much too many! Too many crocodiles! The horror! I’ve also seen a gif of Boring Brian delicately picking up a duckling and placing it back down. Dunno what happened after, though. Don’t ask. Apparently the shoebill stork makes “machine-gun noises” which I think Jonny would enjoy fucking around with. A place that I forgot to write down reportedly called the bird “Abu-Markhub” meaning “father of the slipper” which,,,, yeah.

Raphaella la Cognizi: Kea

Also known as the “clown of the alps”, the Kea resides in the mountains, as the only alpine parrot. Pretty cool. I want to be a clown. But like, a cool clown - not one that hides in a sewer and eats children… Anyways, I’m getting off topic. The kea is the smartest bird I could find. Raphaella is the science officer of the Aurora so it seemed fitting. Look at this photo. That’s science at work! Kea can use basic tools! And reportedly have the intelligence of a four-year-old child! That’s pretty smart! Also it has wings! Raph has wings! Apparently kea enjoy attacking sheep, dogs, horses, etc. and just generally fuck around with people. Imagine what this bird could do with opposable thumbs…

Marius von Raum: Victoria Crowned Pigeon

My criteria for Bird Marius was essentially a stupid looking bird with a ridiculously long name. I was originally going to go with the King of Saxony Bird of Paradise solely for the name (just look at it! It’s so dumb! Who the fuck is the king of saxony!) however it bored me. So! Here we have Doctor Baron Marius von Raum as the Victoria Crowned Pigeon (also sometimes referred to as the Blue Crowned Pigeon). Genuinely, this was my favourite bird as a child. I fucking love this funky little bastard. Apparently, it’s the largest pigeon species in the world and can grow to be the size of a turkey. A turkey! What the fuck! This bird thinks it’s all that. (I mean, it’s not wrong). It was named after Queen Victoria but like,,,,, Fuck The Monarchy. Also eats a lot of figs. The bird - not the queen. Or maybe the queen I dunno. Marius seems like the kind of person who hates figs but eats them anyways so he doesn’t feel inferior to the Fig Lord. How the fuck is this bird not extinct yet.

Ivy Alexandria: Common Raven

Ivy Alexandria, the Common Raven. Ravens are extremely smart! Like seriously - near where I live, there’s an animal shelter with a raven and you can hold a conversation with it. It’s amazing! They also have great memories and hold grudges - so don’t mess with them. Oh! They can also use hand gestures, which for birds is insanely cool! They are the literal “birdbrain”. Sometimes they collect little trinkets, which I think is really sweet. Now, I don’t believe ravens can read but like,,,,, I dunno. I read an article recently about ravens doing “weird things with ants”. Apparently they like to play with them. Ravens have been known to sit in an anthill and let ants crawl all over their feathers for no apparent reason. Now, while nothing has been canonically stated involving Ivy and ants, you can’t prove Ivy doesn’t go sit and hang out with a bunch of ants.

Nastya Rasputina: Andean Potoo

The Andean Potoo is the most mysterious breed of the seven or so potoo species; almost nothing is known other than their vague appearance and their stomach contents (large insects like beetles and grasshoppers, if you were interested). While we do know quite a bit about Nastya, I thought this bird fit her pretty well. In answer to the question “Are potoos friendly?” a website said: “The short answer is ‘no’. The slightly longer answer is ‘it depends’.” This sounds like Nastya and her lesbian spaceship girlfriend. Potoos are VERY good at camouflage; like Nastya in Aurora’s veins?? I dunno, might be a bit of a stretch. They are shy, secretive birds. Sounds fun. Potoos are also VERY good at catching insects and shit. This point might not be relevant, but whatever. Andean potoos might mate for life; scientists don’t know. Let’s say that they do. If Nastya were this bird, she could be eaten by a weasel. Weasels said fuck Nastya rights. Fuck weasels.

The Toy Soldier: Atlantic Puffin

OH MY GOD. I love the Toy Soldier. The Atlantic Puffin. I don’t have many reasons for this one other that IT’S ADORABLE. This is my favourite bird. Just look at it!!! Hnnnnnnn. Baby puffins are called pufflingssssss. Oh my god. Also look up the bird call of the atlantic puffin; it is the best thing ever. Puffins are very sociable birds and live in like giant flocks or something. They’re very neat birds and also waterproof! Like wood! They shed the outer layer of their beaks once a year! Like wood! They live in burrows! Like wood! They can hold a fuck ton of fish in their beaks! Like wood! They have a really fucking wierd tongue! Like wood!

BONUS: Dr. Carmilla: Lammergier (Bearded Vulture)

Do I know anything about Dr. Carmilla? Nope! I think she’s a vampire but like???? Anyways, just look at this bird. It’s pretty self-explanatory. The Lammergeier is one Badass Bird. It is one of the largest old-world vultures. I don’t know what that means. It can grow up to four feet tall, though! And has a wingspan between seven and nine feet. That’s a big fucking bird! They have no natural predators, much like a certain immortal vampire (maybe???). It eats primarily bone and bone marrow and has a nasty habit of carrying off lambs, calves, and dead children. Remind you of the Good Doctor and her Band? Probably not. I bet Jonny has eaten at least one dead child, though. The lammergeier can also live up to the ripe old age of 45 (old in bird years?). Supposedly a lammergeier killed the greek playwright Aeschelus by mistaking his large bald head for a rock and dropping a turtle on it. Sounds very Carmilla. BUT WAIT I HAVEN’T GOTTEN TO THE BEST PART. This bird dies it’s fur the colour of blood to look more intimidating! Supposedly this is a mark of status, as well. That’s one badass bird!!!

WELL THAT WAS AN ADVENTURE. A useless adventure, sure. Fuck you. I had fun.

#the mechanisms #jonny d'ville #gunpowder tim #ashes o'rielly #drumbot brian #raphaella la cognizi #ivy alexandria #marius von raum #nastya rasputina #the toy soldier #dr carmilla??#birds???#i dont know what the Fuck this is

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

Text

Fic: Dead Man Walking (7/?)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [AO3]

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Dead Man Walking

Seven

Sutherland had a problem.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He had several problems, and most of them were related to the fact that the Head of the Civil Service had tried to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. However, those problems were so large and far-reaching, and Sutherland had so very little idea of how to solve them, that he’d had to put them to the side for the sake of his own sanity.

Carrie was dealing with those problems by going to Chequers and collecting what evidence she could against Spencer. Sutherland had no idea what kind of evidence he was hoping that she would find there, but with any luck, she’d go through Spencer’s luggage and find a bottle marked with a skull and crossbones and a folder containing a detailed, ten-step plan for assassinating the Prime Minister.

With those problems put away until Carrie got back – there wasn’t really much else that Sutherland could do about the situation since he was still supposed to be dead – he was focussing on the one problem, still tangentially related to the myriad other problems, that he did have control over.

That problem was Lacey French, and now that he thought about it, Sutherland wasn’t sure that he had any control over this problem either. The two of them had been thrust into each other’s worlds by a twist of fate that no one in their right mind could have foreseen, and now they were stuck with each other.

Not that Sutherland minded being stuck with Lacey. Far from it, and therein lay the problem. Out of all the things that politicians could do that were inappropriate, finding a young woman at least twenty, if not more, years his junior, who had just saved his life, attractive, was probably up there on the list.

Sutherland ran his hands through his hair with a groan. This was not the time, nor the place, and whilst he wanted to think about something, anything to take his mind off whatever shenanigans Carrie was performing and whatever trouble she might be getting into on his behalf, he really didn’t want his thoughts to be turned in Lacey’s direction. She was just a good Samaritan who had helped him out because it was the right thing to do. She’d had no obligation to rescue him, and she certainly had no obligation to stay with him now that he was safe. (Although, having seen Maddie de Ville’s drinking habits, he wasn’t entirely sure that safe was the right word for her company.)

The fact remained, though, that Lacey was still here, determined to see this rollercoaster through to the bitter end, no matter what that might be. As worried as he was for Carrie and what she might be getting herself into, Sutherland knew Carrie, and he knew that she would always have his back through thick and thin. Considering that Lacey’s father was the pathologist who’d been about to cut him open, Sutherland was certain that Lacey was already in some kind of trouble, and he really didn’t want her or her family to suffer any repercussions as a result of her kindness. He could only hope that by the end of all this, when the world was put back to rights, he would be able to get everything sorted out with no ill effects.

He pushed Lacey firmly to the back of his mind and looked around the room that Mrs de Ville had shown him to. It was a small and neat guest room, no sign of any personality in it, and he wondered if he was the first person to use it. He had to admire how easily Mrs de Ville had taken to having them all camped out in her home, as if taking in a dead Prime Minister was an everyday occurrence.

He rolled his head, trying to get the cricks out of his neck. He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying on the autopsy table for, but it had done a number on his back. Perhaps a shower would help. Mrs de Ville had dug out some of her late husband’s clothes for him, and whilst they weren’t exactly his style, anything was better than hospital scrubs.

Mrs de Ville was more than happy to provide towels and soap when asked, and standing under the hot spray, Sutherland felt the tension beginning to ease out of his shoulders and spine. He couldn’t deny that he was beginning to get too old for adventures like this. Well, it wasn’t really an adventure so much as a nerve-wracking nightmare that he still wasn’t entirely sure was real. Lacey probably thought that it was more of an adventure, with the way that she had taken everything in her stride. The thought of his age brought him back full circle and he cursed, annoyed with himself for ending up with Lacey on his mind again.

He pushed her firmly to the side again and rinsed off the soap suds. As much as he wanted to, he knew that he couldn’t stay in the shower forever, and he shut off the water with a sigh, trying to pull his thoughts away from everything that had happened tonight and onto the pressing problems that had brought him down to Chequers for meetings in the first place. Just because he was technically dead didn’t mean that he couldn’t still do his job.

Unfortunately for Sutherland, his resolve not to think about Lacey was utterly shattered when he came out of the bathroom and almost bumped headlong into her on the landing. They both froze, and Sutherland watched as Lacey’s eyes took him in from head to toe and back again. Technically, she’d seen him wearing less than a towel, but right now, he felt far more exposed than he had done in the morgue. Perhaps because, back in the morgue, he’d been more concerned with the fact he’d just come back from the dead, and a random young woman seeing him naked was of secondary importance.

Now, Lacey was very much his primary concern and he was standing here like a lemon in front of her in just a towel, and was that an expression of appreciation on her face?

He decided not to hang around trying to analyse the situation any longer and bolted back into his room, shutting the door firmly behind him and leaning back against it with a groan. It was almost as if fate had it in for him and was determined to keep reminding him of Lacey’s existence and the fact he was really beginning to like her more than he should, until he could deny it no longer.

Maybe, a small, optimistic part of him said, accepting it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe Lacey was feeling the same way. She didn’t seem too horrified by what she had seen, at least.

He shook the unhelpful thought away, but he couldn’t stop it from coming back in idle moments as he dried off and put on the provided shirt and trousers.

Lacey was back in the living room by the time Sutherland returned there, and he couldn’t decide whether he was glad about that or not. On the one hand, it was still rather embarrassing to face her after everything else that had happened – and that seemed to keep happening – throughout the night, but on the other hand, his only other option for company was Maddie de Ville and he didn’t really know how he felt about spending any amount of time in conversation with her. It was clear where Carrie got most of her quirks from, but a lifetime of dealing with politicians had sharpened Carrie’s most eccentric edges. Her mother was the very definition of a cloudcuckoolander.

Lacey looked up as he came in. She was curled up in one of the armchairs, and for the first time that night, she was looking as worn down as Sutherland felt himself.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s good to see you wearing proper clothes again.”

Sutherland sighed. “Yes, let’s not dwell on that.”

Lacey just chuckled. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to worry about from my point of view. You might be the Prime Minister, but I think you can still get it.”

“Great.” He wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes trying to push all thoughts of Lacey and his growing attraction to her to the back of his mind, but if he didn’t know better, he’d think that she was perhaps showing some degree of attraction back towards him. Maybe this was just her way, familiar and teasing in the same way that Carrie was. There was a lot about Lacey that reminded him of Carrie when he thought about it. No-nonsense, calm under pressure, a tough exterior that softened when her guard was down. Like now, with exhaustion creeping in around the edges.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. It was a genuine question, not just a nicety asked for the sake of it.

“Much better, thank you. The headache’s all but gone now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Of course, how he was feeling physically in himself had nothing on what he was feeling emotionally. As much as he was trying to put a brave face on it and take it in his stride, Sutherland couldn’t help but feel scared. He was the Prime Minister; he had an entire crack security team around him at all times and yet someone had still tried to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. There was something in the idea of keeping one’s friends close and one’s enemies closer that didn’t seem to bring him all that much comfort. He’d never seen eye to eye with Sir Albert ever since he’d taken up residence in Downing Street, but he’d never have thought that the Head of the Civil Service was capable of murder.

A shudder ran down his spine at the chilling thought that Sir Albert might not have been working alone. Sutherland knew he was a man with many enemies, but ones that were willing to kill were a completely different matter altogether.

“Are you ok?” Lacey was looking at him with her head on one side, a concerned expression on her face.

Sutherland nodded, then shook his head.

“I’m very aware of my own mortality right now,” he said. “And dealing with the terrible thought that apart from you and Carrie, I have no idea who I can trust in my life anymore.”

“I’m sorry. That must suck.” Lacey stifled a yawn behind her hand. “I guess we don’t really think about the psychological consequences of surviving an assassination. We assume that you’re just happy to be alive…”

“I’m very happy to be alive,” Sutherland said quickly. “Please don’t misunderstand that.”

“No, I know you are. But being happy to be alive doesn’t stop the wondering what might have been, or wondering why, or wondering where you’ll be safe.” She shrugged. “We don’t really get much into psychology in the forensic chemistry field, but it comes into all areas of criminology eventually.”

Sutherland shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it. Not until Carrie comes back with some kind of evidence at least. Right now, I feel nice and safe here with you, so I’d rather not think about the things that are making me distinctly nervous.”

“You feel safe with me?” There was a moment of soft wonder in Lacey’s expression, before her carefree grin returned. “I think that’s the first time someone’s ever said that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

There was silence for a long time, Lacey staring out across the driveway as she digested what he’d just said. Finally, she looked back at him with a grin.

“All right. If you don’t want to talk about what’s going on tonight, we could have that discussion about student loan forgiveness if you want.”

Sutherland took the chair opposite her, although from the way Lacey was going, he didn’t think that the discussion would last all that long. She seemed to be flagging rapidly now, even if Sutherland himself was feeling very awake and would likely stay that way until he saw Carrie back safe and sound.

He had to admit, despite steeling himself for a fight, Lacey’s points were well thought out and backed up. She was getting very much into her element and had she not been on the verge of dropping off every time she finished speaking, he had no doubt that she’d be killing it on the debating floor. She spoke with a great deal of passion, and it was clear that she would have argued about anything she stood for with just the same fervour. It was refreshing to hear, and even though she was arguing against his own point of view, Sutherland enjoyed listening to her.

Soon, though, the inevitable moment happened, and Lacey succumbed to tiredness, curling in on herself in her chair, hair falling into her face. Sutherland took the throw blanket from the back of her chair and tucked it in around her, sitting back on his heels with a sigh.

He was going to have to admit that he was definitely developing more than a little crush on Lacey.

#rumbelle fic #sutheracey #Robert Sutherland #Lacey French #Fic: Dead Man Walking

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rorygoldstein · 4 years

Text

a bit about rory goldstein

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: rory david goldstein

Eye Color: green

Hair Style/Color: light brown

Height: 5′9

Clothing Style: jeans and a tshirt, very casual

Best Physical Feature: hair

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: becoming like his mum

Bad Habits: judging people before getting to know them

Ambition for the Future: to be a beater on the montrose magpies

Biggest regret: cursing his professor

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: "fuck” ( he usually misses his alarm )

What They Think About the Most: what his friends are getting up to back in the USA

What They Think About Before Bed: his mum, and that she’s okay even though he acts like he hates her

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: his hair

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: single

To be Loved or Respected: respected

Beauty or Brains: beauty

Dogs or Cats: dogs

LAYER FIVE: DO THEY?

Lie: yes, like all the time

Have scars/birthmarks: a small scar on his wrist from a quidditch accident

Believe in Themselves: yes

Believe in Love: not sure. if it caused his mum that much pain, he’d rather not go through that

Want Someone: yes, physically. unsure romantically

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: no

Done Drugs: smoking cigarettes

Changed Who They Were to Fit In: not at ilvermorny, but he’s trying out something new over the summer holidays while exploring the new country he’s in

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: green

Favorite Music: rock music

Favorite Animal: wolf

Favorite Drink: firewhiskey

Favorite Food: funnel cake

Favorite Place: the ilvermorny quidditch pitch

Favorite Sport: quidditch

Favorite Season: summer

Favorite Holiday: thanksgiving

LAYER EIGHT: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: the opposite of his

Best Eye Color: blue

Best Hair Color: brown

Best thing to do With a Partner: physical acts

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: quidditch

I hate: that i had to move to england

I feel: annoyed, all the time

I hide: my anger in front of my family

I miss: ilvermorny

I wish: i did not curse that professor. ruined my own life

QUESTIONNAIRE FOR THE MUSE:

What do you look like? (Include body type, frame, hair, eyes, skin, age, and distinguishing features): i’m muscly, slim, and have the best fucking hair in the whole country. green eyes, tanned skin, and my hair is the best thing about me, though my accent is distinguishing over here definitely

How do you dress most of the time?: i usually wear jeans and converse and a band t-shirt

How do you “dress up”?: i have this ace green suit that i’ve worn to formal dinners and balls and it makes me look fit as fuck

How do you “dress down”?: i guess the stuff i work out in?

What do you wear when you go to sleep?: nothing

Do you wear any jewelry?: i wear a ring which is a family heirloom

In your opinion, what is your best feature?: my hair, no doubt about that

How many siblings do you have?: none. though i don’t know who my dad is so he could have other kids oh honey you’ve got a big surprise coming

What is your father like?: no fucking clue

What is your mother like?: mom used to be great. she used to worship me and love me and was really supportive n shit. but she became depressed and started drinking and i had to do everything for her which i hated. she’s the reason i became horrible and got kicked out of ilvermorny, but she’s now with grandma and gramps so they should sort her out

Where do you live? Describe it: Is it messy, neat, avant-garde, sparse, etc.?: my dorm room is pristine and filled with quidditch memorabilia, especially of the montrose magpies. it’s my dream to join them when i’ve graduated

Are you emotional, depressed, ect?: nah, ain’t got time for that shit

Would you consider yourself straight, gay, bi, or something else? Why?: i’m gay. i slept with girls and guys at ilvermorny and just sort of discovered that i don’t like girls all that much. i’m pretty open about it

How ticklish are you? Where are you ticklish?: i’m not ticklish at all

What do you do when you are bored?: quidditch related things mostly. i like doing extra drills and training to make sure i’m the best i can be

What do you envy most?: my friends back at ilvermorny, i’m so jealous they get to spend their last year together while i’m stuck here

#tw: alcoholism #tw: depression #sdhqtask1 #task #musings

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alleiradayne · 5 years

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Part II - Expensive Taste

Summary: Jared catches up with me at Kieran’s. Square filled: Coitus Interruptus Characters: Jared Padalecki/Me, Jensen Ackles Warnings: Fluff, angst, and smut Word Count: 4,151 A/N: For @spnkinkbingo, this was what the original piece was going to be, but, now it’s a series instead! Assume all parties involved are single and no spouse hate! Song: Bang A Gong by T. Rex

Edit: I forgot part of the inspiration for this chapter is due to @supernatural-jackles‘s weekly writing challenge! The line “Promise me you’ll stay,” was the prompt I went with.

“This is Jeanna.”

“Do you always answer your phone that way?”

Even over the phone, I could tell it was him. “I… force of habit.”

“It’s cute.”

My feet moved faster as I passed a large hotel on the corner. “Sure. Jared, why—"

“Where are you?”

I told him. I don’t know why. But to this day, I am so grateful I did. “Just passing Loews.”

“Go into Kieran’s, I’ll be right there.”

Before I could protest, he hung up. I stared at the front door of the bar and, despite the chill in my bones and the disgust that sank to the pit of my stomach, I wondered. I wondered how many times Jared—probably with Jensen—had holed up in that dim Irish pub, hidden away from world, and shared a few drinks. I wondered if they stayed at Loews every time they were in town for the convention. And, disheartened, I wondered if they would ever come back. You see, it was decided that 2018 was the last year the convention would come to Minneapolis. And I realized then that that was why I had left Jared in a moment of vulnerability.

So, I went into Kieran’s. By then, with closing time impending, the bar sat quiet. No music played. No glasses clinked. No bodies talked. In fact, the place was empty but for a few stragglers staggered in the dining area. When I spotted the bartender, her eyes brightened at a potential customer. I slumped into a stool at the bar, and before she could say a word to me, my head dropped into my arms.

“Normally I’d ask you to leave since it’s so close to closing time, but you look like you need a drink.”

“Please,” I mumbled into my arm.

“What’ll it be?”

“Long pour of Bowmore eighteen, neat.”

When I didn’t hear anything, I lifted my head to find the bartender staring at me. “What?”

“You okay?” she asked as she reached for the top shelf.

“Nope.”

She measured out an exceptionally long pour and handed me my glass. “Most people are celebrating when they order something that expensive.”

“I’m celebrating the fact that I’m an asshole,” I said as I raised my glass.

Before the bartender could respond, the front door of the bar burst open. I didn’t bother looking. But she did with a grin big enough to give her fandom away.

“You know he’s famous, right? Actor on one of the best tv shows ever made,” I started.

Her icy stare snapped to me as I said, “And I turned him down.” A sip of the brown liquor warmed my throat as the bartender continued to stare at me as though I had two heads.

I expected all manner of responses from Jared. Rage, disappointment, dejection, sarcasm. But when I heard nothing, I turned around and found him standing three feet away, face still as stone. “I’m sorry.”

Bewildered, I asked, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have done that without asking first,” he clarified. “I… assumed, and that was wrong.”

Ugh. I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, but I did. “Can you sit with me?” I asked. “You shouldn’t apologize, I owe you one.”

Without protest, Jared sat beside me. When I turned to him, I saw the bartender had not moved an inch. “Could you—”

She turned away with a clipped, “Yup,” and headed for the far end of the bar.

“You don’t need—”

“No, Jared, I do,” I interrupted. “Please. I… I want this more than I’ve wanted just about anything in my whole life. And that’s part of what scared me. I always thought I’d could have no-strings-attached sex with you and be completely indifferent to the fact that I might not see you ever again. But when the actual opportunity came up—first of all, the fact that it came up in and of itself is fucking ridiculous. I never imagined it actually would. Second, when it did, I realized that it did matter to me. Like, a shit ton.”

For a long, uneasy moment, Jared stared, measured, scrutinized. Exposed, I felt like an open book to him, as if he could read every thought in my head without even trying. And then he spoke. “Come to Jacksonville with me.”

I blinked once, then twice. “What?”

“I’ll fly you out, you can hang out backstage,” he continued. “It’ll be fun.”

“I… where will I stay?”

Jared scoffed with an eyeroll that rivaled one of Sam’s. “With me, where else?”

I promise I’m usually not so daft. But imagine it for a second. Imagine Jared asking you to come with him on the convention circuit. Or, if he’s not your cup, imagine Jensen or Misha, or hell, Rob, or Rich, or Matt, anyone of them, take your pick. What would you do? Sure, you say you’d jump at the chance. But if it actually happened, how fast do you think you’d comprehend the implications? Because, in that moment, the questions from the cast ran through my mind, the rhetoricals and suspicious glances, and just wait for social media to find out Jared invited some random psycho fan to—

“Jeanna?”

Of all the things to be concerned about, the one thing that bothers me most finally reared its ugly head. “We haven’t even… you don’t even know what I look like naked,” I whispered as I leaned in close.

“I’m sure you look amazing,” Jared started as if that was a given, “But pretend for thirty seconds that I’m not some vapid actor obsessed with one-night-stands. You have my personal phone number.”

I did. But that didn’t mean he’d answer when I would call. “What about after Jacksonville?”

“You could visit me in Vancouver while we’re filming,” he suggested.

“I have a job, you know,” I stated.

“Quit.”

Again, I reared back, caught off guard for the third time that night. “Just… quit? Upend my entire life to follow you around the country? Dude, I don’t know if I even like you. I like the idea of you that I have in my head, but I don’t actually know you and you don’t know me.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Jared started with a nod, “That was impulsive of me. You should visit though. I really want to spend more time with you. You’re brilliant and funny and stunning—”

“Stunning?”

Jared’s face scrunched with a shake of his head. “Yeah. Please don’t tell me you don’t think so.”

“I mean, I know I’m not half bad looking, I like how I look, but I wouldn’t go with stunning,” I said.

He leaned in so close his breath warmed my cheek. “You’re gorgeous. And I want to spend more time with you,” he whispered. Then he sat back and added, “I mean, that’s not why I want to spend more time with you. Our conversation at the bar was fantastic. Right? Did I miss something?”

When he fell silent, my narrowed gaze locked on his, searching for the right answer. Lost in his penetrating stare, I floundered, adrift in a sea of conflict. He sounded so damn genuine, so honest. But my fears held fast. “You hardly know me, Jared.”

Jared slipped from his stool and grabbed my hand. “I would like to, though. Stay with me tonight and hang out with us tomorrow. Everyone will adore you, I promise, I can already tell you’ll fit right in.”

Baffled, I gaped. “I can’t hang out backstage, that’ll look… no, I don’t need that sort of attention right now.”

Jared sighed as his shoulders slumped. “I understand. But I still want you to stay with me tonight. Promise me you’ll stay.”

“Wait.”

His step towards the hotel door faltered as I pulled back on his hand. “What?”

“I need to pay for my drink,” I grumbled as I reached for my wallet.

“No, I’ll get it,” he interrupted as he waved the bartender over. From his back pocket he withdrew his wallet. “How much?”

The bartender picked up my tab and handed it to him as she said, “Twenty-seven-fifty.”

As Jared scowled at the paper, my mind raced, unable to decide what to do.

“What the fuck did you order?”

I looked at my still very full drink. “I… wanted to get drunk.”

He laughed as he said, “So, you got a long pour of the most expensive scotch in the book?”

“No, they have Pappy and I wasn’t about to order that overpriced—wait, are you really getting on my ass about ordering expensive alcohol? We’re not even dating, and I didn’t ask you to pay for my shit.”

He slapped a wad of cash on the bar then grabbed my hand again. “I would pay for an entire bottle of Pappy if it would make you happy.“

“Good luck finding one, you have to like, get on a list with the distillery and then it’s like a big fucking pissing match on who gets a bottle—”

“Jeanna.”

“I know, I ramble when I’m scared!” I said as I slipped from the bar stool and grabbed my drink.

“I’ve noticed. It’s quite endearing,” he said as he lead me to the door connected to the hotel lobby. “I want to invite you up to my room.”

“But?”

Jared sighed as he pushed through to the hallway. “But I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want to put you on the spot.”

Now or never. With a deep breath, I steadied my racing heart. “I want to. Badly.”

“We don’t have to—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “I know without a doubt that you’ll respect whatever I want. But I’m not going to pass this up. Not like I nearly did half an hour ago.”

He sighed with relief as the tension sagged from his shoulders. “Alright—do me a favor?” he asked as we neared the lobby door. “I sent Clif up when we got to the bar. Can you check if the lobby is mostly empty?”

“I mean, I can check, sure,” I started, “But I just want it stated for the record that my tiny ass went ahead to protect you.”

“You’re my hero,” Jared retorted as I pushed through the door with a laugh.

The lobby lay empty but for a few staff at the desk near the main entrance. When I waved Jared through, he casually strolled in absolutely no hurry despite lacking any actual body guards. “Do you want fans to jump you?”

“No—”

“Then walk faster,” I insisted.

He shuffled a step, mocking me with a silly face, then asked, “Do you dance?”

At the elevator I pushed the button and gave him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean? Like clubbing? Because fuck that noise.”

He doubled over with laughter as he explained himself. “No, you have a sort of dancer’s gate.”

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped on and asked, “Were you watching me walk?”

He jabbed the button for the fourteenth floor with his thumb. “Maybe.”

In a heartbeat the elevator had grown far too hot and my cheeks stung. “No,” I stated with a shrill crack in my voice. “Sorry, no, I’m not a dancer. I’m a martial artist.”

“What?”

I half-heartedly punched the air a few times. “You know,” I started, “martial arts. I’m a third degree black belt in taekwondo and I just started jiu-jitsu.”

“Christ, remind me never to piss you off,” he mocked as the elevator slowed to a stop.

Through the door, I scoffed as I mimicked kicking towards his head. “Sure, like I could take you.”

Jared laughed as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we wandered down the hallway. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Tease me when we’re in your room,” I said before I thought to speak.

“Oh, I can do that,” he mused, “if you would enjoy it.”

Chills coursed through my veins, and I inhaled a deep clarifying breath to steady my spinning head. “I can’t believe I said that out loud, what the hell is wrong with me?”

As we turned a corner, Jared replied, “You know we can just… hang out. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I… let’s just get into your room first,” I started. “I imagine I’ll need a map to find the bathroom. Fuck, I need to take a shower in the morning and have none of my shit…”

At his door, Jared squeezed my shoulder for reassurance. “I can take care of that. I’ll send a runner to your hotel.”

Jared never struck me as the type to have people do things for him. “No, do not get me used to this… lifestyle. I won’t want to go back my plebeian ways after.”

“Jeanna, it’s fine, it’s just your stuff,” Jared said as he unlocked his door. “You won’t be spoiled if someone brings the things you need.”

I wanted to argue with him further on that, but when he pushed aside his door, I lost track of the thought. The suite sprawled from the door, a living room, dining room, full kitchen, and bedroom hallway bigger than most apartments. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s overkill,” Jared stated flatly as he motioned me inside. “I just need a place where I can sleep and shower.”

“Okay, I have to see it,” I said as I strode down the hallway for the master bed and bath.

Sure enough, a tub the size of a small pool took up most of the bathroom. My aching feet called out for a long hot soak, and I had half a mind to indulge them. That was, until strong hands grasped my shoulders and drained the tension from my sore back. Nimble fingers kneaded the knots at the base of my neck as his thumbs sought and soothed the sensitive spots along my spine. “What are you thinking about?”

“If we’ll both fit in the tub,” I muttered.

A bark of a laugh burst from his mouth. “I’m pretty sure four people could fit.”

“Really?” I asked as I turned to him. His crooked grin rolled the first true rush of arousal between my thighs and the room spun. “Know anyone up to testing that theory?”

“I can think of a few people,” he paused with a thoughtful look on his face, “but I think tonight, I’m gonna be a little selfish and keep you all to myself.”

All to himself. Christ. The shock of realization, of understanding exactly what was about to happen sank to the pit of my stomach. I stood in a hotel room in the arms of one Jared Padalecki.

And he was eyefucking the hell out of me.

“Jeanna? Are you—”

Jared’s muted whimper against my lips breathed life to reality. I had kissed him and was still kissing him when the lingering taste of liquor on his tongue swarmed my senses. My mind raced to keep up with every touch and sound and taste, pushed so far beyond its limits. Whether I fell into his arms on purpose mattered so little when he caught me, his massive hands grasping my ass. I’d known a few larger men in my time—compared to me, most men are huge—and not a single one them knew how to use that strength.

Jared knew exactly what he was doing.

The floor fell from my feet as he gathered me in his arms, lips still pressed to mine. Though unnecessary, my legs wrapped around his hips, and it was there that I finally felt him. As he carried me back to the bed, I had to make sure. A roll of my hips confirmed my suspicions. Above average. Thick. Dressed left, possibly center, although that might have been the good work of his Saxx underwear.

When Jared parted from me, an unbidden whimper fell from my lips and I grasped his shirt. An amused hum sang though his nose as he said, “I’m not going anywhere.” Lips softer than sin trailed kisses along my jaw to my ear where he whispered, “What would you like to do?”

“You.”

I’d meant that in all honesty, but Jared laugh as he asked, “Where, darlin’. Show me.”

Look, I know Jared played along. He’s a foot taller than me and weighs half again as much as me, if not more. But I like to think I caught him so off guard that I actually reversed him. He, at the very least, acted surprised when his back met the bed and I straddled his hips. Bless his heart.

“We can start here,” I suggested.

With his crooked smile, Jared devoured me, his hazel eyes drifting from mine. For a long moment, he simply looked; my hair, my lips, my… neck? His gaze lingered there until he rose and wrapped his arms around me. Safe, solid, his embrace enveloped every inch of my existence, smothered my senses until nothing but Jared existed. The warmth of his hands roamed my body as his lips returned to mine. All manner of lascivious sounds passed between us, but it was when his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, so warm on my skin, I shivered.

“Nervous?” he asked, his lips against mine.

“No,” I lied with a squirm as he gathered my shirt. With every exposed inch, my skin betrayed me in gooseflesh. I sought stability in his shoulders, his neck, his hair, my own hands searching for leverage. “Maybe. It’s not like I prepared for this.”

Jared, ever the opportunist, took that as his cue and my shirt floated to the floor, removed in a flourish. More than a tiny part of me wanted to hide, wanted nothing more than to cover all the imperfections and rolls and pasty skin. At least, I felt that way at first. But when I found Jared eyeing me as if he’d died and gone to heaven, and his hands returned to my skin, not one concern survived.

“You’re stunning,” he sighed. “You know that, right?”

A boring black bra, far too old to be worn any longer but too expensive to toss, snapped apart at the clasp when Jared flicked his fingers. “I don’t… Okay, you know what, I’ll just take the compliment.”

“Oh, c'mon,” he chastised as he slipped the straps along my arms. “You’re so hot.”

Confidence I’d rarely felt straitened my spine and pulled back my shoulders, posture immaculate. A flick of his wrist sent my bra sailing to the floor.

“Fuck me,” Jared sighed, massive hands cupping my breasts. “Why do you even bother wearing a bra?”

At that I stopped wasting time and gathered Jared’s shirt at his hips. With one swift pull, it pealed over his broad shoulders and left him bare. “Well?”

“Because of creeps that like to stare…” I drawled. My thought trailed into silence as I gaped without reservation at his chest. Like I said before, I’d been with my fair share of men, myriad in their physical form. But when I touched him, the firm muscles of his shoulders enthralled me. Slick with sweat, I smoothed his skin to his chest, where, with the slightest pressure, I pushed, and Jared lay back on the bed, his own hands settled at my hips.

“You’re staring,” he said.

How could I not? Every muscle etched into his skin, traced by my fingers as I branded him into my memory. When Jared spoke, my eyes returned to his, dragged away from the deep angles of his hips, and found his crooked smile. “I could look elsewhere. Would that make you feel better?”

He opened his mouth to reply but whatever words he had readied died in his throat. A roll of my hips sucked the air from his chest with a long, high moan. A flash of lust brightened his wide eyes, and Jared moved swift as a cat, all patience fled as he unfastened my jeans. I did my best to keep up with him, but only managed as far as his belt before he flipped me back to the bed.

He tore the sheets down beneath me, then quite unceremoniously stripped me of the rest of my clothing. Completely bare to him, I struggled to maintain any sort of confidence, resisting the urge to cover myself with the giant comforter on the bed. Not that I had to try very hard. Jared positively ogled me, a face I’d never seen on him before. So focused, he fumbled with his pants and underwear—a wonderful pattern of black and blue—only to drop them to the floor without much thought.

I tried. I did my best not to gape, not to stare. But I couldn’t help myself. Jared stood in all his naked glory with an impressive erection as an absent-minded hand smoothed over his stomach. I had been right. Above average, probably eight or so inches, thick, and a slight lean to the left, Jared grasped the base of his cock for a small, short stroke. From there, I struggled to focus, his deep angular obliques grasping my attention. But then his shoulders tensed, chest and biceps taut as he near the bed, and I bit my bottom lip.

He knelt beside me, and though he remained silent, his body said all the words he did not speak. His legs entwined with mine as his arms—Jesus Christ, but his arms were fucking huge—wrapped around me, smothered from shoulder to hip, and hauled me back to where I’d sat before, his hips straddled.

Except the clothes that had kept us apart before lay in a heap on the floor. Skin on skin, the hardened length of Jared’s cock parted my lips with a roll of my hips, and time crawled to a stop. The sting of his fingernails bit into my hips as he grabbed me, his own hips rolling, grinding. God, but I hoped it might never end, that I would feel him forever and never want for anything else.

But Jared wanted more. With a snap of his hips, I pitched forward and he pinned me to his chest. One arm held me tight as he grasped himself with the other and angled his cock to my cunt. The firm press of the swollen head parted me, then slipped inside.

My muted moan drowned his softer sigh as Jared rolled his hips, one long, slow stroke sheathing himself inside me. “Holy shit, Jared, you feel so fucking good.”

A bemused laugh hummed through his nose before he spoke. “We’re just getting started. Wait until—”

The faint click of his hotel room door barely registered before I heard a familiar voice. “Jared? You pass out already man?”

No. There was no way. I looked Jared in the eye as I whispered my panicked suspicion. “Is that Jen—”

“Jensen?!” Jared called, and I scrambled for the comforter. “What are… what are you doing here? It’s two in the morning!”

I tossed the sheets over us both before the stomping boots reached the room. There was no way I could look at Jensen at that moment. I buried my face in the crook of Jared’s neck and hoped to God he’d take care of it.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Jared wrapped his arms around me, pinning me to his chest once more. “Don’t—dude, don’t come in here.”

Jensen’s footfalls stopped near the door, and a second of silence followed before he spoke. “Oh. Oh shit…”

“Yeah, oh shit, what the hell, dude?!”

Jensen stuttered as slow steps back, a soft boot thumping to the floor. “I—I just thought you might still be awake, wanted to see if you were up for drink.”

“Um… yeah, I’m a little busy,” Jared replied.

I swore I heard Jensen laugh. “I can tell,” he called. Another beat of silence preceded his laughter as he asked, “Do I get to meet her tomorrow?”

“I swear to God, dude.”

“Alright, fine, I’m leaving!”

When the door shut, Jared threw the covers off and heaved a breath. “I am so sorry—”

His words clipped short as I kissed him, and Jared sighed a moan so desperate, I nearly wept. His tongue and lips reminded me of what it was that I had wanted that night. But before I returned to that mission, I parted from him and spoke. “So, will you introduce me to him tomorrow?”

Jared laughed as he kissed me in return, then whispered against my lips.

“Only if you’re a good girl for me tonight.”

Tags: @atc74 @hannahindie @bevans87 @meganwinchester1999 @plaided-ani-on-hiatus @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox @princessofthefandomrealm @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens

Feedback is welcome! Reblogs are too! And if you’re interested in being added to the tag list, send me a DM or an ask.

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datheetjoella · 5 years

Text

Meeting Royalty

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Summary: When they were younger, Haruka and Makoto made a promise to each other. Now, thirty years later, their promise is one step closer to being fulfilled.

In which Haruka and Makoto surprise their children with a visit to the shelter, where they meet two cats who might just become the new members of their little family. Word count: 5,766 Part: 1/3 Notes: This fic is a gift for my friend @softmakoharus! Everything she does is amazing, please check out all of her work.

Read at: AO3, FFn, or here!

Part 1: The Surprise

"Sleep well, sweetie. I love you," Makoto murmured as he tucked Umiko in and kissed her goodnight.

"Love you too. Goodnight," she replied drowsily, clearly on the verge of losing consciousness yet fighting to stay awake just a tad longer so she could return her parents' wishes of sweet dreams.

Meanwhile, Haruka whispered similar words to Mizuki and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The poor boy was so exhausted from playing around on the beach all day that he had fallen asleep halfway through Makoto's anecdote-bedtime story. And he had been so excited about this particular story too; when he and his sister heard that their parents had starred in a short film back in high school to help recruit new members for the swim team, their eyes lit up with curiosity and they were all ears. Haruka smiled to himself as he recalled how their adorable faces had twisted in disbelief when it was revealed that their kind, sweet father had been assigned the part of the evil king. Admittedly, it hadn't exactly been a fitting role, as Makoto had proven with his acting skills - or lack thereof. The end result was cute, though. Haruka made a mental note to ask Nagisa later if he still had a copy of all the footage saved somewhere.

They would fill Mizuki in on the details he missed during breakfast tomorrow, but for now, he could conjure up his own fairytales in his dreams.

Once Makoto and Haruka were done saying goodnight to both of their children, they left the room to let them sleep. The small star-shaped light that illuminated the darkness was kept on just in case Mizuki woke up at some point during the night; while Umiko claimed that she was a big girl who wasn't afraid of the dark and therefore no longer needed the nightlight, Haruka was pretty sure that she hid her own fear behind Mizuki's and very much appreciated the glowing star. He would never call her out on this, but it was amusing and quite endearing nonetheless.

"Do you want tea or coffee?" Haruka wondered as they walked down the stairs together.

"Coffee," Makoto said, "but wait."

"On what?" Haruka questioned sceptically, following his husband into the living room but doing so with confusion. There wasn't much time left before the tv show that Makoto had been looking forward to watching would start, and he wanted them to be on the couch with a hot beverage before then.

When Makoto made sure the door was closed behind them to prevent their children from possibly overhearing - which seemed highly unlikely considering the sleepy states they had been in - a wide grin stretched his handsome face. "The shelter got back to us."

"Already?" Haruka asked, eyebrows raising in surprise, "That's fast."

While they were painting yesterday afternoon, Umiko had casually opened up the topic of adopting a dog for discussion. Her brother had supported the idea wholeheartedly, but dogs needed a lot of specific care and attention that they unfortunately wouldn't be able to give at this point in time. As a compromise, Haruka had offered that they could maybe get a cat instead. Makoto and he had already wanted a cat for as long as he could remember, and they had promised each other when they were kids that they would get one together when they were older.

Alas, after thirty years, that promise hadn't been fulfilled yet because it never seemed like the right time to get a pet; either they were too busy with school and training, or their careers caused them to be away from home too often, or every waking moment was dedicated to taking care of their adorable but needy infants.

But that was all in the past now; the children were a little older and didn't need round the clock care anymore, work at the swim club was calm and stable and they had a neat, orderly schedule. Their lives had reached a comfortable and steady point so he concluded that the time to expand their family with a cat had finally come.

As soon as Makoto heard about the conversation that was held when he was still at work, he scoured the internet in secrecy in search for a feline friend or two. Somewhere along the way, he stumbled upon a pair, seven-year-old Princess and five-year-old Duchess, who had been left in the shelter's care after their previous owner passed away. The instant Makoto saw the white cat and her orange tabby companion, he fell in love with their cute faces and thought that they were the perfect additions to their family.

After the children had gone to bed that evening, he showed them to his husband and fortunately for him, Haruka had immediately taken a liking to them as well. So they had written up an email explaining their situation and expressing their interest in meeting them, as the shelter required approval and a visitation before they allowed anyone to adopt a pet. Because of that, they decided to keep it a secret until the shelter gave them the green light. It would be bad if Umiko and Mizuki fell in love with them too but the shelter didn't think they were the right fit for Princess and Duchess.

"Yeah, I was surprised too," Makoto muttered as he fished his phone out of his pocket, "I already saw it before dinner but I didn't get the chance to tell you sooner. I was afraid the kids might hear something, and you know how inquisitive Umiko has been lately…"

Haruka understood where he was coming from; while they encouraged her curiosity and stimulated her zealousness, in situations like these they had to be careful. If she somehow got the idea that they had their sights set on two cats then they wouldn't hear the end of it until she saw them and they were hers. Of course, Mizuki would be dragged along with his older sister's interrogation and that wouldn't exactly make it easier. Precaution was key when it came to things like this.

"And, what did they say?"

An excited gleam appeared in Makoto's gorgeous eyes. "They said we can come to meet them anytime they're open."

A small yet nonetheless joyous smile appeared on Haruka's lips at that confirmation. They were approved on paper and were allowed to see them in person. The chances of the shelter denying their adoption request was significantly smaller now, given that they would like the cats and the cats liked them too - though he honestly didn't see why either wouldn't. "That's great."

"Right? I'm so happy," Makoto said, his entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

If it weren't the cats and their childhood promise being closer to being fulfilled that made Haruka smile, then seeing his husband so genuinely thrilled definitely would have done the trick. After so many years, that blinding smile still ignited sparks in his stomach. "Me too," he murmured softly, "So when do you want to go?"

"I was thinking Tuesday afternoon," Makoto replied without missing a beat, proving that he had already thought about that - not that Haruka had expected otherwise. "My classes end early on Tuesday, so that's when we have the most time to see them and play with them before the shelter closes."

"Sounds good," Haruka agreed, though he couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you can keep it a secret until then." They wanted it to be a surprise for the kids, but that wouldn't work if Makoto's unerasable grin revealed it all.

"I think I can manage three days," he argued, wanting to seem offended yet failing miserably when he smiled again.

"Are you sure, because your face says otherwise." Haruka jokingly poked at the curled up corner of Makoto's mouth, because that thoroughly elated expression held no secrets at all, not from Haruka and surely not from Umiko and Mizuki either.

Hearty laughter erupted from Makoto's chest as he swatted his husband's hand away. "I'm sure," he declared solemnly as he swiped his palm in front of his face and unveiled the serious look that was left in its wake. He was able to maintain that demeanour for about half a second before it crumbled with a chuckle. He bit his lip in an attempt to repress it, but it was in vain.

Haruka could only smile at his giddiness. In Makoto's defense, he had been able to not only keep Princess and Duchess a secret for the children for an entire day, but he had also successfully kept this information hidden for a few hours from none other than his own husband, who knew him through and through. He could do anything he set his mind to.

"Anyway," Makoto mumbled as he tried to recover from his giggles, fumbling with his phone for a bit and then he gave it to Haruka. "Here's the email if you want to read it."

Haruka quickly scanned the text with his eyes, his own smile softening when he read the confirmation for himself. But when he opened his mouth to reply, the tv in the background blared a familiar tune.

"It's started!" Makoto gasped and his eyes widened comically.

"Here," Haruka snorted as he handed him his phone, "You can email them back later. Go sit down, I'll get us our drinks."

"Are you sure?" Makoto asked, knowing that Haruka didn't like to watch something if he missed the beginning. When Haruka didn't waver, he muttered, "Thanks, Haru. You're the best!"

Before Haruka had the chance to stutter an objection to that, Makoto blessed him with a quick kiss of gratitude. There was truly no better way to silence him than that.

"Ah, I'm so excited!" Makoto sighed, and it was obvious that he wasn't talking about the tv show.

As always, Haruka couldn't do anything but smile in response to his husband's almost childlike enthusiasm. He was really too cute. "Me too."

The sea of children that had poured through the seams of Iwatobi Elementary's doors had long since dissipated, yet Umiko was still nowhere in sight. When Haruka pulled out his phone to check the clock, he confirmed that she was indeed running late. It was no point of concern for him, because he knew just how easily she could get caught up in conversation and lose track of time, but the small hand that was clutching his was slowly growing more and more jittery with impatience.

While Umiko had the tendency to be a bit tardy if she got distracted, Mizuki was very punctual, always ready with his little backpack firmly around his shoulders by the time one of his parents came to pick him up from kindergarten. He despised waiting and therefore made sure no one would have to wait on him either. While Haruka thought both of their habits were endearing in their own way and didn't mind waiting on Umiko for a couple of minutes when they weren't in a hurry, Mizuki got visibly annoyed if his older sister was taking too long for his liking.

Haruka averted his gaze from where it had been glued to the doors, that his husband and he had passed through countless of times when they were just children themselves, in favour of looking at their grumpy son. Most people probably wouldn't notice anything off about him, since a bright smile wasn't exactly part of his default expression, but Haruka could tell that his bottom lip was protruding slightly more than it did when he got here. That pout would surely disappear instantly if Mizuki knew what was ahead of him today.

"She'll be here soon," Haruka tried to appease him, smiling when Mizuki only huffed in response. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"No."

He wasn't going to insist; Mizuki would change his mind if his legs got tired, but Haruka didn't think it would get to that point. Even though Umiko was taking her sweet time, he was sure it wouldn't be long now. It wasn't like she would make her family wait forever.

Almost like he had sensed it, at that moment a familiar mop of black hair left the building and, as predicted, Umiko wasn't alone: three other children were with her, some of which Haruka recognised from playdates at their house.

The instant Umiko spotted her dad and little brother standing near the gate, she quickly said goodbye to her friends and ran towards them, red bag jostling on her back. It seemed like her face had trouble deciding which emotion to display; remorse for being late or the excitement that was the cause of it.

"Why are you late?" Mizuki demanded to know the second Umiko was within earshot, sounding like he was her dad instead of Haruka and Umiko owed him an explanation.

"Sorry," she apologised and though it was sincere, as soon as the word was past her lips, her enthusiasm won the battle and a wide, radiating grin appeared. "I was talking with Suzu-chan and Hiro-kun and Mari-chan. Suzu-chan got a guinea pig!"

"A guinea pig, huh?" Haruka muttered as he ruffled her hair in greeting before crouching down to kiss her head. Then his hand found one of hers so he could lead the three of them safely across the street to where the car was parked.

"Yeah! She got one, and her older sister got one too! She said guinea pigs need to have a friend."

"It's always nice to have a friend," Haruka agreed, but before he had the chance to say anything else about rodents, Umiko chimed in.

"Why are we taking the car?"

Usually, Makoto and he would drop off the kids at their respective destinations together before driving to the swim club in the morning. When school was finished, Haruka would pick them up again and the three of them would walk to their house, or wherever they happened to be going, so that Makoto could drive home after a long day of hard work.

"We're going to the swim club," Haruka replied, "I thought it would be nice to pick Papa up together. He still has one class, so we can watch him while he works."

It was technically the answer to what she had asked, but it wasn't the full truth either. Fortunately, it seemed like the kids hadn't noticed that.

"Can we swim too?" Mizuki wondered, although his way of moving through the water could hardly be called swimming just yet, as it was more like wading.

"Not today, I'm afraid," Haruka said, hoping that they wouldn't inquire further, "I thought you would still be tired of swimming after swimming all day last Saturday."

"I'll never get tired of swimming!" Umiko proclaimed.

"Me neither!"

Truly spoken like they were his own, Haruka thought to himself with a small snort. "Me neither," he echoed as he took his keyring out of his pocket and unlocked the car. Before they had the opportunity to ask him if he had already swum today - the answer to which was yes - he tried to change topics. "So, what colour is Suzu-chan's guinea pig?"

"White with brown spots, and her sister's guinea pig is black with brown spots!"

Successfully diverged.

While Umiko rambled on about every detail her friend had told her about the new pets, Haruka put Mizuki into his carseat and fastened the belts. Then he went to check if Umiko had strapped herself into hers properly, not wanting to take any chances when she was so busy chattering. Once they were both secured, Haruka buckled himself up and started the car to drive the route that had become more than familiar over the past decades.

After a short drive, they arrived at their family's business. Though the entire way here had been dyed with Umiko's high-pitched voice as she talked about anything and everything noteworthy about her day at school - though it was mostly still about Suzu-chan's guinea pig -, the second they came to a halt in the parking lot, she freed herself of her seatbelt and leapt out of the car to run inside.

"Wait for me!" Mizuki called after her, impatiently trying to unbuckle himself too but he couldn't quite figure out the somewhat complicated system.

Not wanting him to be left behind, Haruka helped him and lifted him out of the car so he could chase after his sister. He wasn't in a hurry like the kids were, so Haruka calmly grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before he followed them inside.

They were far ahead of him, but Haruka wasn't bothered. The swim club was their second home and they knew this place like the back of their hands. Even the other staff members weren't fazed at all by their presence, as they had long since gotten used to the six-year-old and her four-year-old brother roaming around the halls. Knowing just where they were going, Haruka took a detour to the break room, the fridge of which contained some juice boxes reserved for occasions like these. Along with two of them and a bottle of water for himself, Haruka went to join the children.

Their faces were already smudged up against the glass, looking out over the pool area where a handful of instructors were having classes in different lanes, amongst whom their very own father. It didn't matter how often they were here to witness it, for some reason this remained to be a spectacular sight to see. Haruka got it though; Makoto did look really cool helping kids from all ages through the water - and really hot in his wetsuit, the design of which hadn't changed at all since he wore it for the very first time a little under twenty years ago.

"You'll stain the glass if you press up against it like this," Haruka remarked. Even though their enthusiasm was cute, it hadn't been long since he had last cleaned these windows and he wasn't eager to have to do it again tomorrow.

"Sorry," Umiko and Mizuki muttered in unison, immediately stepping away like the glass had burned their palms and noses.

Haruka smiled, bidding them a small nod of appreciation. "Here," he said as he handed them each a juicebox. Then he sat down on the bench right behind them and put his bag down beside him.

"Thanks!" they replied as they followed his example and plopped down.

After taking a swig of his water, Haruka rummaged through his bag a bit and pulled out a box of leftover vanilla muffins from last Sunday. They wouldn't be home until it was time for dinner, so he made sure to bring their afterschool snack with them. It would be bad if Umiko and Mizuki got hungry and cranky on a day as important as this one.

The same response sounded out again as the children grabbed a proffered muffin, nibbling mindlessly as they peered out over the pool. It was an occurrence as common as the next, but when Haruka looked at them, he was reminded of Ran and Ren, who he had taken here back when Makoto was first working as a swim instructor to help out Coach Sasabe. The twins had been a couple of years older then than Umiko and Mizuki were now, but the glint of excitement shimmering in their eyes was the exact same.

Suddenly, his hands began to itch with the need to capture this sight; the unawareness of the world around them as they were fixated on their father guiding other children through the water, with nothing to distract from it than the combined flavours of sweet vanilla muffins and apple juice. But a good dad always came prepared, and Haruka searched for his camera in his bag, trying not to rustle it too much in fear of disturbing the atmosphere.

He carefully scooted over to the edge of the bench and held the camera at an angle so that their vague reflections in the windows were within frame too. As soon as the shutter clicked, the spell was broken and their faces instantly turned to him. The excited glimmer was replaced by adorable confusion, their eyebrows twisting into a frown to complete the look.

Knowing they were just startled, Haruka said, "Smile," as he snapped another photo. He had already gotten the perfect, almost entranced-like picture, so a couple of goofy ones were a nice follow up to that.

A dozen or so photos were shot, some of which the children demanded be taken in front of the windows in the hopes of catching their father in action. The results weren't that great, but it was a task that was pretty much impossible to execute well, so Haruka simply obliged without protest. They'd forget about it sooner or later anyway.

Eventually the kids were reminded of their treats left abandoned on the bench and returned to them. Haruka put the camera away. He could continue to take pictures forever, but he didn't want the memory card to get too cluttered just yet. There were certainly more endearing moments coming up, ones that were rarer than these, and it would be a shame to miss out on eternalising them.

Time flew by as Umiko and Mizuki finished their snacks and babbled with their dad. Before they knew it, Makoto and his students were already standing on land again as today's class was ended. The children trickled out of the room and Makoto was left to clear away the kickboards and floaties that were used.

"Come on," Haruka said as he got up, collecting the empty snack packages to discard into a bin along the way, "Let's go to Papa."

The kids didn't need to be told twice.

They quickly traded their shoes for slippers and entered through the staff locker room, where Haruka grabbed the laid-out towel to hand to his husband. Unlike before, Umiko and Mizuki now slowly followed behind him, knowing that they weren't allowed to run anywhere near the pool because it was dangerous.

"Good work," Haruka murmured as he stepped into the room.

Upon hearing that voice, Makoto came to a halt and a bright smile stretched his face when he saw him. "Haru!"

A matching smile naturally broke through Haruka's demeanour and he threw the towel to Makoto, who caught it as effortlessly as always.

"Papa!"

"We came to pick you up!"

The chiming voices of their children drew Makoto's gaze downwards and his smile widened. "Is that so?" he chuckled, roughly drying his brown locks with the towel before letting it slip to his shoulders. "Thank you, I really appreciate it!"

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Haruka offered. He convinced himself that he asked it to help his husband out, but he couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled up in his stomach as he thought about where they were heading next.

"No, that's okay," Makoto declined with the cute head tilt that he never grew out of, "I just need to put away some stuff and get dressed and then I'm ready to go."

But instead of doing either of those things, he stepped closer to them and swiftly stole a kiss from his husband's lips. Before Haruka could ever register the contact, let alone respond, Makoto had already pulled back again with a cheeky grin on those enticing lips. The flame of playfulness that was ignited in his eyes went out as quickly as it was lit and swooped down to kiss Umiko and Mizuki's crowns before he turned around and strolled off.

"See you soon," he called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand, and Haruka couldn't help but snort.

He really loved that adorable idiot with all his heart.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the Tachibana family was seated in the car and conversation was alive as per usual, mainly thanks to Makoto and Umiko; the latter was telling the former all about her friend's newly acquired guinea pig. Because Haruka and Mizuki had already heard everything there was to know about it, they didn't feel the need to partake in the same discussion again. Since Makoto would always humour her and, like Haruka himself, was genuinely interested in everything she and her brother had to say, this was no issue at all.

On the contrary, Haruka was actually kind of glad he didn't have to engage so he could focus all his attention on driving. Though he was pretty certain he knew the exact road they needed to take to their destination, it had been quite a while since the last time he was there so he wanted to make sure that he didn't accidentally take a wrong turn.

The children hadn't noticed anything yet, and Haruka was glad about that. It meant that the surprise would only be greater when they arrived.

"And Suzu-chan's dad made a big cage, and also a big… thing so they could run outside in the yard!"

"Guinea pigs can get pretty big, huh?" Makoto commented, amused by their daughter's enthusiasm, "So it's good that they have a lot of space to move around and play."

"Yeah," Umiko affirmed, vigorously nodding her head, "Her and her sister's are still small because they're babies, but she said they can get this big." She made an indication with her hands, that might have been a teeny bit exaggerated, but Makoto only chuckled along.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" she repeated excitedly, "And she said that I can come over to see them sometime!"

"That's nice of her," Makoto said with his sunny smile, "When did you plan to do that?"

"I don't know yet. Hiro-kun and Mari-chan also wanted to see them, but Suzu-chan says she can only have one friend at a time over at her house."

"Why is that?" Haruka questioned with a frown at this new piece of information.

"I don't know," Umiko shrugged, "She said her mom said so."

"Maybe it'll be too busy for the guinea pigs otherwise. They might feel scared if they're surrounded by a lot of people, trying to hold them all at once," Makoto tried, but Umiko shook her head.

"I don't think it's because of the guinea pigs. Before she had them we could never play at her house together either."

"Maybe her mom's the one who gets scared if she's surrounded by a lot of people," Haruka joked, coaxing chuckles out of everyone. While Haruka knew better than anyone else that children could be a handful, he didn't really understand parents who had rules like that. Those types of playdates occurred every once in a while and lasted for no more than a few hours at a time at best, so it wasn't like there was much of a difference between having one kid over or two or three - at least, not to him. It only caused for some children to get excluded from playing with their group of friends.

And because he never wanted Umiko and Mizuki to get excluded, he wouldn't cause for other kids to get excluded either. The more the merrier, or something corny like that.

"Oh, and I told Suzu-chan and Hiro-kun and Mari-chan that we're going to get a cat, and they asked if they could see it when we get it!"

Makoto's eyes darted to the corner to shoot his husband an inquiring look, but Haruka just pursed his lips as a subtle sign that he didn't know either. It must have been a coincidence, for Umiko would surely speak up if she caught wind of what was going on.

"Of course!" Makoto replied, trying his best not to let his expression betray him and expose their secret, "You can invite them over when we get one."

"Or two," Mizuki added, so out of nowhere that it almost seemed like he was onto something. The look of indifference on his face, however, contradicted this.

"Can they all come over at the same time?" Umiko asked, diverting the subject from the cats they were going to get back to her friends, much to her parents' joy.

"Sure, I don't see why not," Haruka said. In his opinion, it was easier to have all three of Umiko's closest friends come over at once than to plan three separate cat-viewing playdates. "You can invite Tomo-kun over too," he told Mizuki, knowing that Mizuki only had one friend he was close enough with for him to invite into their house. He had been told multiple times that he was allowed to bring more friends than just Tomo-kun, but Mizuki always declined and said that he just wanted his best friend to come. It seemed like the other children in his kindergarten class hadn't unlocked the stage of friendship yet in which Mizuki felt comfortable having them over.

But even his best friend was not on Mizuki's mind right then. "Where are we going?" he questioned in confusion. The car ride home wasn't supposed to take this long, and he didn't recognise the buildings around him either.

"Are we going to the store?" Umiko wondered, since taking the car and picking up her father made sense in that scenario.

Makoto just shook his head.

"Then where?"

"It's a surprise."

"Oh no," she gasped in horror, "we're not going to the dentist, are we?"

"No," Makoto chuckled at the fact that that was her first guess for some reason, "we just went to the check-up appointment a few weeks ago, and your teeth don't hurt, right?"

"No," Umiko said, and even if she could have expected that outcome, she was still visibly relieved.

"I promise that you'll both like where we are going," he revealed, and that would be the sole hint he would give them.

Then it was Mizuki's turn to gasp. "Disneyland?"

That was probably the only place that would make them even happier, but he couldn't have been more wrong. If that was their expectation, then they were surely going to be disappointed; any place paled in comparison to Disneyland.

Thankfully, Umiko was the voice of reason. "Of course we're not going to Disneyland!" she argued, "Disneyland is super far away and we have to go to school tomorrow, and Papa and Daddy have to work."

"Oh yeah," Mizuki mumbled dejectedly, pouting as he averted his head to stare out the window. Haruka hoped that his frown would soon be turned upside down when he found out where they were actually going.

"No, unfortunately we're not going to Disneyland," Makoto regretfully confirmed, "but the place where we are going is a lot of fun too."

"The playground?" Mizuki tried, as it was technically a smaller, plainer version of Disneyland.

"Oh, I know!" Umiko suddenly exclaimed, the metaphorical light bulb switching on beside her head as she had an epiphany, finally able to connect all the dots. "We're going to get a cat!"

"Ding-ding-ding, we have a winner," Makoto announced like a game show host, making the children cheer like they just won a hundred million yen. "We're going to the shelter!"

Instantly, Mizuki's pout morphed into a large grin. "Yes!"

"Are we going to pick out a cat?" Umiko asked, her brown eyes wide and gleaming with excitement.

"No, we're going to meet two cats that Daddy and I picked out already."

Before the kids had the chance to moan and complain about not being allowed to help pick out the cats, Haruka cut in, "Papa found these cats on the website and thought they were perfect for us, so he showed them to me. And I thought so too, so we sent a message to the shelter, because before we are allowed to adopt them, we have to meet them in person. They said we could come today, so we wanted it to be a surprise for you until now."

Fortunately, that explanation satisfied them, and they began to rapidly fire questions at their parents about the cats' identities.

"Are they boys or girls?"

"What do they look like?"

"What are their names?"

Their passion was so endearing that Makoto couldn't do anything but laugh merrily, and Haruka's heart swelled with fondness upon consuming the cocktail of rambled curiosity and bellowing joy.

"Okay, okay," Makoto hushed with remnants of giggles, "Their names are Princess and Duchess, and they're both girls. Princess is white and Duchess is orange. That's what you both wanted, right?"

"Yes!" they yelled in unison, excitement dripping from their faces as they visualised their ideal cat in their heads.

"But Papa," Umiko mumbled as she recalled the conversation they had about their desired cats last Friday afternoon, "I thought you wanted a black cat."

If Makoto was going to say what Haruka expected him to, he was going to kick him as soon as the car came to a halt. But it seemed like Makoto had left his playfulness behind at the swim club and he answered earnestly, "It doesn't really matter to me, I'm happy with any cat."

Umiko smiled at that - if anything, she was probably just glad that at least one of the cats had fur in her desired colour. "How old are they?"

"Princess is seven and Duchess is five."

"That's older than me!" Mizuki gasped in surprise, like he had never even considered the possibility of that.

"That's right, and Princess is even older than Umiko," Makoto said, and their son's mind was positively blown by that fact.

"Wow."

"We're almost there," Haruka informed, disrupting their elated chattering. He hated to be the spoilsport, but the children were getting a little too excited about the idea of having Princess and Duchess as their cats and he had to remind them that they weren't theirs just yet. "Remember that we're going to meet them to see if we like them, but if we don't for some reason or if they don't like us, then we'll continue to look for a different cat."

"But," Makoto added before their grins could be wiped away by their dad's words to make place for crestfallen frowns, "I think we're going to like them a lot."

To support this claim, Makoto elaborated and shared all the details he knew about the royalty they were about to meet. It was safe to say that Umiko and Mizuki had already fallen in love with the descriptions they were given, just like their parents had. Now they probably wouldn't settle for anything less than Princess and Duchess - and fortunately, they didn't have to either.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #makoharu fanfiction #my fic #meeting royalty #softmakoharus #i hope you like it :)

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missblanchette · 5 years

Text

Rumor Has It [7/10]

Series: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Izanami Hifumi/Yumeno Gentaro; Amemura Ramuda, Arisugawa Dice

Rating: T

Summary: Thousands of hearts broke that day. With tears shed and cries resounding to the heavens, each grief-stricken woman wondered how this could possibly happen. In the year 20XX of the H. Era, Matenrou’s MC GIGOLO and Fling Posse’s MC Phantom were officially in a relationship.

Except they weren’t, actually.

Words: 4,113 words

ko-fi // Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | You can read this on AO3! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! (,, ･∀･)ﾉ゛

Ch. 7: The Heart in a Fog

"Gentarooo~ Why didn't you tell us you and your boy toy were serious?" wasn't the first thing Gentaro expected to hear once he sat down at Fling Posse's usual cafe for their "Play Time" (team bonding, as Ramuda put it; never mind that they stayed at either his or Ramuda's place a majority of the week), but their dear leader had never been the most predictable. The whine of Ramuda’s voice sounded like a tease than anything else, but his baby blue eyes held a scrutinizing glint to them. Cup of tea in hand and a bag of Hifumi's belongings hanging around his wrist, Gentaro supposed this was karma for arriving five minutes late.

"What? You got a boyfriend?" Dice asked between mouthfuls of a crepe.

Feigning offense, Gentaro placed a hand over chest. "Yes, you didn't realize? We've been going out for some time now. He's one hundred seventy-seven centimeters tall, has blue hair, and likes to freeload."

"Sounds kinda ugly." Dice's face scrunched up. "Wait --"

"Nope, nope, nope-y, nope! ★" Ramuda singsonged, booping Gentaro's nose. "I mean the other boyfriend who's one-seventy-nine centimeters, definitely not a real blond, and lives in Shinjuku."

Gentaro's brow creased as he pretended to ponder over the description. "Who ever are you talking about? I would've told you if he existed."

"But you were with him right here?"

Ramuda turned his phone towards him and lo and behold, the picture of him and Hifumi sitting together at Sakuragaoka-cho Street laid on the screen. Barely sparing it a glance, Gentaro took a sip of his tea.

"Ah, but that's not exactly me. That's my doppelgänger."

"Your dopa-what?" Dice said.

"My lookalike, another person who shares the same face as me. An evil twin, as some say."

Ramuda's eyes bulged wide. Making a noise of awe, he looked back and forth between the picture and Gentaro.

"Really, really? Don't they say you die after meeting your doppelgänger?" He tilted his head, lips puckered in bewilderment.

"Oh, certainly. I died not too long after laying sight upon them. My MC name is 'Phantom' for a reason, you know."

Slapping his cheek with a pop, Ramuda's jaw dropped.

"Wow~ ★ How neat, how neat! We have a real ghostie on our team!" He hopped forward in his seat with sparkles surrounding his big eyes. "Can I put my hand through you?"

Before Gentaro could answer, Dice reached out and smashed Gentaro’s cheeks in between his hand. He turned his head left and right, up and down; once more, all around.

"Ghost, schmost. I can touch ya jus' fine!"

Chuckling, Gentaro pried Dice's fingers off his face. "Yes, you've caught me. That was a lie."

"Whaaa, so Gentaro's not really a ghost?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm flesh through and through," he said, pulling his cheek to prove it. "Though I will say that I'm appalled that you're using that image, Ramuda. It's old news by now."

"Ah, ah, ah~ It's not old news if it's still relevant." With a finely manicured finger, Ramuda pointed at the bag at his side. "You just don't carry another guy's stuff around for no reason! A~nd I know for a fact those aren't your style."

His years of lying paid off, allowing Gentaro to maintain a straight face at the comment. He hadn't mentioned what was in the bag since he sat down, let alone bring attention to the bag itself. To top it off, it wasn't see-through. Keen underneath the ditziness, Ramuda was an interesting one for sure.

"Damn, Ramuda, what if he's trynna experiment?" Dice piped up, bless his soul. "Guy can't wear what he wanna wear?"

"I merely borrowed these from an acquaintance," Gentaro said, nodding a small thanks to Dice. "I'm meeting up with them later, so I'll be returning these to them."

"An acquaintance you've been texting all week~?"

As if selling him out, the chime of a LINE message rang through; Gentaro's hand an even worse traitor, having reached to pull his phone out on instinct. He caught himself before he could do so, but Ramuda simply smirked at him and Dice raised a brow as he munched away at his food. Gentaro cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea.

"Purely business, I assure you."

"Must be some fun kinda business since you've been so glued to your phone lately!"

"Yeah, actually..." Dice's chewing slowed to a stop. "You said you've been workin' on your next book, but I always see ya textin' someone and smilin' at your desk."

Gentaro shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? Business is going well."

Smirk ever present, Ramuda drank the last of his bubble tea in reply, slurping loudly against the cafe's white noise as he sucked up air through the straw. Setting the cup down with a plop, Ramuda's nails click-clacked against the table.

"Y'know, Gentaro --" Like sharing a secret, he scooched in closer. "-- the whole thing with you and that Hifumi really went viral, and that got me thinking 'bout what we can do to boost Fling Posse's popularity for next season."

"Is it choreography? The idol image is very big in Chuuoku."

"Nope! But that's a good idea, I should add that to our next practice session~"

"Fuck no, I can't dance for shit --"

"B~ut, what I had in mind is that me and you should make it seem like we're dating! ♥"

"Hm, a fake dating scenario, is it?" Taking the longer strands of Ramuda's hair, Gentaro twirled it around his finger before cupping his cheek. Ramuda giggled and leaned into his palm. "The love story between a leader and his second-in-command, defying all odds and overcoming their struggles together; a tale of secrecy, mystery, and passion. How romantic."

"Hey, hey, hey, whatta 'bout me?" Dice said. "Can I be in the story?"

"Featuring their idiot third member."

"Shit, bro, after all we been through? Just gonna do me dirty like that?"

Gentaro stifled his snicker behind his sleeve. "Their idiot third member who ends up winning them the grand prize due to his immense luck."

He nodded approvingly. "That's more like it."

Clapping his hands, Ramuda laughed. "See, see! We got the perfect set up for it already so let's give it a shot! ★"

Lips quirking up, Gentaro shook his head.

"As compelling as it sounds, I don't think it's the best idea." He gave Ramuda's cheek a pat before pulling away. "Something like that will only lead to a disaster in the long run."

"Aw, boo-y. 💔" Ramuda pouted, but soon set his sights on Dice. "Looks like it's up to us then, Dicey-Dice!"

"Yeah? What we gonna do?"

He hummed while tapping his chin, baby blues scanning the cafe. "I know! You go over to that corner and I'll kabedon you! Gentaro can take the pic."

"...Shouldn't it be the other way 'round 'cause I'm taller?"

"Yeah, but I'm the leader! ★" Ramuda grinned as he pointed to himself. "Oh, maybe I'll get on Gentaro's shoulders and we'll both kabedon you."

"Hol' up, hol' up! Why's it gotta be me gettin' slammed on?"

"Don't you know, Dice? The elders must establish their dominance over the weak," said Gentaro matter-of-factly.

At that, Ramuda’s laughter filled the cafe and Gentaro joined in with a small huff. Dice squinted and jabbed his crepe at the two of them, whipped cream flying onto the table.

"Oi, who ya callin’ ‘weak’?!"

“The one who owes me a hundred thousand yen,” Gentaro teased. His eyes fell to his watch then, his plans for the afternoon fast approaching. “I’m afraid I’ll have to give Ramuda the honors of dominating you, though, since I have to be going now.”

Pouting, Ramuda tugged on his sleeve. "Awww, but you just got here."

"Forgive me, but business calls." He stood up and drew his arm out from Ramuda’s grip before making sure all his things were in order.

"The fun kinda business?"

"Business is business."

"A'ight, well, we'll be here when you're done," said Dice, waving at him.

"There’s no need to wait for me. It'll be an all day affair."

"Ooh, so the super fun kinda business~? ♥"

Gentaro gestured vaguely, but he couldn't help the curl of his lips. "Business."

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

A ghost of a smile growing on his face, Gentaro pocketed his phone and set off to meet Hifumi. Sakuragaoka-cho Street wasn't too far from the cafe, but he walked with a hurry to his gait and a bounce to his steps nevertheless. Admittedly, Hifumi's invitation had caught him off guard; another meeting so soon, with nary much detail besides "meet me at sakuragaoka-cho!!" and a plethora of stickers and hearts. Gentaro had half the mind to turn him down, but his fingers had worked faster than his head and he accepted.

He didn't regret his decision, though. In between their frequent conversations, the words to his manuscript flowed more easily since their outing; a spark, of sorts, having been lit after all the impromptu stories they created together and the back-and-forth they shared. Contrary to the voice in the back of his head that wished to see Hifumi for desire’s sake, he justified this rendezvous with the notion that meeting up with him would provide insight and bolster creativity.

Ever the punctual one, Gentaro stopped short when he spotted the familiar head of blond and lime standing near one of the sakura trees. Truly "next time" had arrived sooner than he thought it would -- had arrived when he thought it wouldn't at all -- but seeing Hifumi in person again, somehow he didn't mind. Not wasting a further second, Gentaro hurried on.

"Oh, is my watch running slow? It appears you're here on time, Izanami-san." A teasing lilt to his words, Gentaro tapped at his watch for the show of it. Expecting that perky voice of his to crack back, his lips tugged up as he neared him.

But Gentaro heard it before he saw it.

"Of course, Yumeno-sensei," Hifumi said in that flirtatious inflection of his. Given the tone, Gentaro's eyes wandered down to see him wearing his suit -- prim and proper, rather than haphazardly thrown on to avoid his fears. "I'm not one to keep a dear friend waiting."

Handsome as he was, the hands hidden behind Hifumi's back spoke of something more. Tips of red peeped out from his sides, swaying to the spring breeze. Anticipation and apprehension blending together, Gentaro pushed them down.

"What's this? All dressed up in your suit attire, are you?" Gentaro gave him a look, gesturing up and down at his person. "Don't tell me you've called me to act as your shield."

Hifumi chuckled, the once strident noise now sonorous to his ears. "No, I know better than to call a friend out for something so silly as that. I have other plans for us, actually."

"Ah, that's right. You were quite vague about that, though," Gentaro mused, glancing to the mystery he hid from him. "They don't happen to do with whatever's behind your back, do they?"

A flash of his other self seeping through, Hifumi's eyes widened before he recovered with a smile that made his heart flutter.

"Perceptive as always, Yumeno-sensei~" he said, a tilt to his head and dimples to his cheeks. "One of your charm points, for sure."

"Flattery, Izanami-san?" Try as he might to play it off casually, the butterflies in Gentaro’s stomach flapped their wings so hard that they’d started a hurricane. "Have you mistaken me for one of your so-called kittens, by any chance?"

"Nonsense, my dear Yumeno-sensei~ I could never mistake anyone as special as you are for anyone else.” His suit jacket on, Gentaro had heard him speak such adulations to the women who’d passed them by, but the sincerity in his tone threw Gentaro off. “In fact --" With the flourish of a host, Hifumi revealed what was hidden behind his back. "-- these are for you."

A bouquet of roses, presented like a bottle of champagne to his clients; yellow petals matching the hue of his locks, fading into a deep red at the tips. Had Gentaro’s heart not skipped a beat or two, he might have mulled over the meaning of such colors. Eyeballing it, he counted forty-four rose heads. Forty-four roses no doubt a declaration of affection, each petal peering up at him like the irises watching behind them. Numbly, Gentaro accepted the bouquet into his arms. The cellophane rustling in his hold, the flowers weighed heavily and the thorns jabbed into his chest.

Drawing a blank, Gentaro stumbled over his words. "That is -- This is -- These are quite something..."

"Aren’t they? A lovely bouquet for a man as lovely as you~"

He parted his lips to quip back, but Gentaro’s mind had gone askew with racing thoughts -- of excitement, of dread, of feelings he wasn't sure about -- that nothing came out. From their confrontation in Chuuoku that lead to their rivalry, to the fateful night at Kabukicho that changed everything between them, to now, Hifumi had that effect on him. For better or for worse, Gentaro couldn’t fault him for it.

Not realizing his silence, or maybe ignoring it, Hifumi continued on. "Yumeno-sensei, since we're here, may I tell you something?"

Speechless, he nodded slowly. Hifumi's smile grew bigger, beaming brighter than the sun itself. As blinding as it was, Gentaro could not -- would not -- tear his gaze away. Dangerous the sun might be, but its warmth was addicting and he let its radiance sting.

"I know we haven't spent much time together, Yumeno-sensei, but I believe we've made great strides since our first encounter." His voice a resonant melody, Hifumi took his hand in his. Warm yet suffocating, Hifumi’s touch was the only thing keeping him grounded as his senses ran a tizzy. "The circumstances might've been unfortunate, but I'm glad that the incident in Kabukicho was able to bring us closer. Since then, the moments we've shared have been a dream for me, and I've come to see you in a new light. Or maybe it's better to say that you have become my new light."

Bringing his hand close to his chest, Gentaro's fingers grazed the spot above Hifumi's heart. His pulse at his tips, he found that underneath the cool and calm persona of a host, their heartbeats drummed at the same unsteady pace. Lucent irises locked onto his, Hifumi's gaze boring into him filled with a gentleness he'd never seen before. His touch had grown searing hot, but Gentaro did not pull back.

Laced with ardor, Hifumi said softly, "Yumeno-sensei, I believe I've fallen for you."

Whether his heart stopped beating altogether or it beat so quickly that he no longer felt it, Gentaro couldn't tell. What he did know, however, was that he didn't know what to feel.

Rare was it that Gentaro let anyone into his life. Indeed, he could count those close to him with only a single hand -- a digit for each of them: The elderly couple, his parents that'd taken him in, the ones whom he'd started lying for; Atsushi, his best friend when no one else dared speak to him, the one whom he'd started writing tales for; Dice and Ramuda, his posse through thick and thin, the ones he'd fought through hell and back with.

And then there was Hifumi, his rival turned acquaintance turned God knows what, the one he’d faced with ups and downs. Once, Gentaro had thought of him as a gibbering fool without a care in the world; now, he'd come to learn that there was more to him than that -- figuratively and literally. Despite being a man of two faces, Hifumi was endearing all the same. Blunt and outspoken he might be, and other moments too honeyed and charming, but he always meant well underneath it all; the man, much to his surprise, was supportive to no end. Regardless of if the suit jacket was on or off, Gentaro found a comfort in his presence and their rhythm together flowed effortlessly. Yes, somewhere along the line, the bane of his existence became someone he enjoyed being with. From reckless nuisance to cheerful companion, Hifumi had certainly grown on him within a short season.

But, Gentaro wondered, did the moments they share together warrant anything deeper? Was the time spent talking to him any more than fondness? Was the desire to weave more tales with him any more than attraction? Was the need to get to know him better any more than infatuation? His head spun trying to find the answer.

Unsure of whether it was a truth or a lie, Gentaro said the first thing that came to mind: "I -- I -- I -- I can't return your feelings."

His shine faltering, Hifumi's face fell. "I'm... sorry...?"

Moreso to make sense of his frazzled thoughts, Gentaro replied, "That is to say, I can't take you seriously as it is. You're always saying pretty things with that suit jacket on."

Hifumi squeezed his hand, blistering caress burning him. "I assure you that what I say is the truth."

"Just like everything you tell the women at your club?" His words more callous than intended, there was nothing Gentaro could do about them save for watch as they hit the man before him.

A frown marred Hifumi's face, and it was then and there that Gentaro learned that a frown didn't suit him at all.

"There's no reason I would lie to you about something like this, Yumeno-sensei."

"It would make me feel better if I heard it without the jacket on." Uncertainty spoken after uncertainty, doing little to quell the turmoil in his head.

Hifumi's eyes ran over him as if searching for an untruth, gaze soft yet piercing. To be honest, even Gentaro himself wasn't sure if there was one to be found in the first place.

"...Very well, if that's what you ask of me."

A bitter chill replaced the scorching heat of his touch as he let go of his hand. Dazed, Gentaro stood still as a statue as he watched Hifumi shrug off his jacket. The effects were instantaneous and the bubbly, upbeat man took place of the alluring host.

"Yumenon, please believe me!" Without warning, Hifumi grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him; stunned as he was, Gentaro didn't think to push him away. Up close like this, the fervor in Hifumi's eyes cut through him. "I like you so much it makes me crazy! I like you so much it makes my heart burst! I like you so much that I love you!"

Love. What a loaded word that was. To fall for someone could be written off as a fleeting passion, to be in love was an ardent dedication. To be in love meant to share one's life with another; to be in love meant to bare one’s soul to another; to be in love meant to wholeheartedly give one's self to another. Was he capable of such love -- for Hifumi, of all people? Irony of their relationship, mayhaps Hifumi was right when he'd called him out for being caught up in the past for the future looked daunting.

"I... stand by what I said earlier, Izanami-san," Gentaro said, too heavy on his tongue to be the actual truth. "I can't return your feelings."

"...Why... why not?" Hifumi’s voice was a whisper, a strange thing to hear from this side of him. Hands dropping to his sides, his bright eyes grew dull. The rose thorns pierced Gentaro's chest.

In spite of that, the uncertain falsehoods continued tumbling through. "This was a strictly professional relationship."

"...What do you mean?"

"If you'll recall, I said I was conducting research on host clubs for my upcoming novel," Gentaro said, as if a half-truth would soften his hits. "Being a host yourself, I thought observing you would make for a good reference."

Standing before him eerily silent, Gentaro also learned that somberness was an image unfitting of Hifumi. A shame he had to learn these lessons personally.

"Oh... okay..." Hifumi's voice cracked towards the end, gaze darting to the ground. "Um, can we still be friends?"

Quietly, Gentaro dealt the last blow. "I don't think it wise to get close with one’s subject matter."

"Ah... I see..."

Neither a peep nor a hum came from Hifumi, his body stiff against the spring breeze. Doing anything to avoid the unease looming over, Gentaro returned the bouquet; the rose thorns unlatching like a knife being pulled out, prickles lingering on his chest. Without protest, Hifumi took them back with languid arms.

"I'm sorry, Izanami-san," Gentaro said, speaking a genuine truth for the first time today.

Hifumi shook his head with an unnatural vigor, plastering on a smile akin to sunlight without the warmth. Had some of the thorns embedded themselves into his body, Gentaro wondered; they stabbed deeper in and twisted about.

"No, it's fine! I mean, I can't force you to feel anything you don't, y'know?" A warble underlain Hifumi’s voice as he spoke, cracks to his cadence. His eyes, as well, glistened like glass. "Besides, that's pretty cool you used me for inspiration!" He stifled a sniffle. "...Was I any good?"

"Yes." The smile Gentaro gave him took all his effort to wear. "You were wonderful."

"I'm... I'm glad then, that I could help you in some way!" A nod, followed by another and another as if to bounce away the tears. Hifumi's grip on the bouquet tightening, a few petals fell to the ground as if losing the will to live. "I had a lot of fun together, anyways!"

A hush fell over, neither of them quite looking at each other. Hifumi, naturally, broke the silence first -- his smile lacking the spirit Gentaro had come to know and his eyes missing the shine that was uniquely his.

"Good luck with your book, Yumenon -- ah... um, Yumeno-sensei!"

Hearing this side of Hifumi addressing him so formally sounded odd -- wrong, really; but as it was, he didn't deserve to be called the nickname that he'd grown fond of. How easy it would be to claim that everything he'd said had been a lie but even now, he was not sure where his lies ended and truths began. To Hifumi and to himself, it wouldn't be fair if he said anything otherwise. Nonetheless, that didn't stop Gentaro's chest from aching as he watched Hifumi's light die out.

"Thank you, Izanami-san," he managed to choke out.

All that they’d said hanging in the air, Gentaro tore his gaze from Hifumi but his sorrowful visage had already been embedded into his mind. Being a writer, he knew that words could harm no matter how gently they were dealt and so there was nothing left to be said -- nothing more that could be said. Giving Hifumi a small bow, he scurried away.

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

Door slamming shut behind him, Gentaro pressed his back against it and inhaled sharply. The trip back home lasted far longer than it should have, what with the images of Hifumi's lifeless smile haunting him and the sound of his faux cheer on a loop like a broken record. Had it happened months ago -- weeks, even -- he might've reveled in the scene, basked in pushing his rival to his breaking point; as things were now, though, Gentaro felt nothing but guilt for snuffing out Hifumi’s shine.

Then again, it was better this way; to give a rejection as opposed to an acceptance. He’d rather nip what they had in the bud than lead him on with affections that could fizzle out sooner or later. Eventually, they would both move on and it would be as if their affair never happened; they would go back to being no more than enemies, vitriolic adversaries as things between them should have been -- at least, that was what Gentaro told himself, a rationalization to his faults.

Catching his breath, he finally remembered he'd meant to return Hifumi's belongings when the bag bumped against his leg. He hurried to his room and placed it within the furthest depths of his closet; burying the memories of him deep inside, locking away all that he felt for him, keeping that afternoon’s sorry sight from playing over and over again.

In its place was a mantra: he did not care about Izanami Hifumi, he harbored no romantic feelings for Izanami Hifumi, he was not in love with Izanami Hifumi --

(Perhaps if he lied to himself enough, it would become the truth.)

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hifugen #genhifu

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newmoneytrash · 5 years

Text

GOOD VIDEO GAMES THAT I PLAYED IN 2018

(I haven’t proofread this yet so it’s probably grammatically stupid, but I’m a stupid person so it fits my aesthetic)

I finished over 30 games in 2018, and spent I don’t know how long playing bits and pieces of I don’t know how many others, and, I gotta say, I feel maybe less connected to video games than I ever have before? I’ve had so many moments of weird disassociation while playing games this year where I’ve just felt like I’ve stepped outside of myself and asked “why am I doing this?”, only to handwave my astral projection away because I know why I’m doing this. I’m having fun!

I think?

There were many times where I would have this haunting, sinking feeling. The words of the modern philosophers Blink-182 reverberating around the inside of my head; well, I guess this is growing up. I turned 30 this year; it’s only natural with age that I would slowly move away from something that was so important to me from my childhood. My life has pretty drastically changed over the last five years or so, predominantly positive changes, thankfully, and my priorities are just different now. So it makes sense that my love and dedication towards video games should change too, right?

But then that same disassociating feeling would come when I would engage with other mediums. I felt it while reading books, watching movies or TV, when I was working, even while listening to music. Even while eating? And I *know* why I eat, it’s important! Which slowly lead me to the realisation that *I* wasn’t growing up, I’m still as cool and chill as ever. I own a skateboard and a basketball and completely ignore the dress code at work because I’m chill as hell! But like so many other aspects in my life, my priorities and the things I value have changed. It’s just that they changed without me realising and it took me the entire year to catch up with them.

I spent a lot of time playing games I didn’t like playing without realising that I didn’t like them. If I had the year over, I wouldn’t have banged my head against God of War trying to like it just because everyone is telling me it’s Good. I wouldn’t have spent dozens of hours playing and finishing Spider-Man despite feeling no connection to it all. I used to pride myself on playing and liking old games and bad games and finding things that I enjoyed about them on their own merits, but on reflection I realise they were just the games that I played in the gaps between these giant grey pillars of Big Video Game releases. This year, for whatever reason, that thought process inside of me snapped and I’m glad it did.

A big part of what made me want to play the new big releases was that I liked to be a part of the larger conversation about them, but now I realise the only people I actually want to have conversations with don’t care how new or old a game is, or how good or bad it’s considered to be, as long as I care about what I’m talking about.

Anyway, this is just a *very* long way of me making a very simple point, which is; fuck video games, do whatever you want.

Despite all of these weird misgivings and all this introspection I still had a good time with some dumb, stupid video games and I still like writing about them, so I’m gonna.

Resident Evil

I finished 2017 by playing both The Evil Within Games as well as Resident Evil VII and Revelations, and started this year by playing Resident Evil 4, 5, Survivor, and Operation Raccoon City. That’s a lot of Resident Evil! Too much? Who’s to say? (Me, I’m to say. And; yes, it’s entirely too much). I also spent about a month or so this year watching through all of the Friday the 13th movies which, weirdly, helped me frame the weird feelings I had towards Resident Evil. For both franchises there is something extremely specific that I want from them that I just don’t think either of them are really interested in giving me. I don’t want an impervious, hulking demon-Jason rampaging through the streets of New York or floating through space, I want the weird skinny, nimble Jason with a sack on his head who has lived almost his entire life alone in the woods just outside of Crystal Lake. An extremely human Jason who, when he gets hurt, grunts and cries in pain, but perseveres regardless because his mom is just a decapitated head now and he’s not really sure how he feels about it.

With Resident Evil I just want these small, personal stories. Individuals caught in a shitty situation with no escape and no larger agenda. No neat fitting, worldwide conspiracy or double turns involving the president’s grandfather owning founding stock in Umbrella or the T-Virus being written on the back of the Declaration of Independence. I loved the first two thirds of Resident Evil VII because that’s how it felt. It felt so *personal* in a way that I wanted. Resident Evil never wants to give me that, at least not entirely, but I will latch on to the few instances it does with dear life because, when they commit, even just slightly, it’s as good as anything can be.

Tony Hawk’s Underground

On Christmas day I fell into one of those weird deep but fleeting depressions that really only Christmas can provide. I tried to sleep but I just couldn’t, that weird sense of dread and helplessness eating at me, keeping me awake until the early hours of the morning. So, I got out of bed and decided to just embrace my depression by sitting in the dark and staring into the harsh glow of my computer monitor. I don’t know what it was that drove me to download all of the Tony Hawk games available for PC, but I did. It was cathartic spending hours mounting disks and entering cmd prompts to get those old games to work on stupid Windows 10. I then stayed up until six in the morning playing Underground, letting this warm and familiar game gently ease me back to a place and time when the only thing I cared about was stealing ten dollars out of my dad’s wallet so I could go to McDonald’s. It’s good to know that no matter where I am or what I’m doing or how I feel there will always be a place I can retreat to where Eric Sparrow is the world’s biggest dickhead and where I can do a 720 Benihana behind an alien themed strip club next to a cop standing suggestively next to a goat.

I was 15 when I first played Underground, and I’m 30 now, and it’s comforting to know that on the simplest level the things that I value the most are still largely the same. And those values are hating cops and listening to NOFX. Hopefully I can revisit it when I’m 45 and, if I do, I hope that I feel largely the same way.

Yakuza 4

I started my slow journey through the Yakuza series almost exactly three years ago and, in that time, I have played through seven games (finishing Kiwami, 4, and 5 this year). I’m part way through the Yakuza Fist of the North Star game and then, after that, I only have three games to go until I’m all caught up. Which, to be fair, will probably mean that by the time I’ve finished those three games two more will have been released. It’s a never-ending cycle!, but one that I’m glad I’m on.

I chose to specifically highlight Yakuza 4 because it just felt so special to me. It was the perfect meeting of everything that I have loved about all of the games that I have played, while also introducing me to characters that I have grown to love more than any others. Kiwami is a good game, but it’s just a remake of the first, and a budget remake at that, so it’s hard for me to feel strongly about it. Yakuza 5 is also good but, fuck, it’s *way* too long. It shouldn’t be that long! It’s like 60 hours long. That’s too long! Yakuza 4 gets everything right, it hits all of the sweet spots that every game after it should be judged against. And it also introduces Akiyama, a fictional man that I would risk my life for.

I try to recommend Yakuza to everyone, but it’s a *very* hard sell. It’s so long and so story dense. Every game except for the very first is spoken exclusively in Japanese, and reading subtitles for a series where each entry averages a 30-hour minimum play time is a lot to ask. But when you see Kiryu fight with his conscience over whether or not he should buy a porn magazine for a kid it really puts it all into perspective.

Final Fight: Streetwise

Final Fight: Streetwise is such a meme of a game. One of the classically bad attempts at converting a beloved 2D franchise into a 3D game. I’d seen videos of it before, even once watching an entire playthrough of it, and, sure, it seemed bad, but it also seemed charming too. I decided to finally sit down and play it for myself to see if I was just missing something in only having watched it and not played it and, to really no surprise because I’ve accepted that I’m just trash who loves trash, I loved it! It’s not a *good* game, but it has so much heart! I thought it was going to be something that was phoned in, a poorly put together 3D brawler with the Final Fight named slapped on top of it, but it isn’t. You can just feel that they wanted this to be something, and I really think it could have been! It’s too much of a stretch to think if they did a *few* things differently this wouldn’t be a bemoaned misstep in a dying franchise, but a cult classic that never got the praise it deserved.

It's very silly and unnecessarily over the top, but there is nothing that you can say that will convince me that if this game didn’t have the Final Fight name on it people would still bring it up today as something that we missed the potential on. This is maybe the hottest take that I have that no one will ever even pretend to care about, but I don’t care! Final Fight: Streetwise deserved better.

Florence

I don’t really have any patience for mobile games outside of this one NBA Jam game that I’ve had on my phone for like eight years and play exclusively when I hide in the bathroom at work because I don’t want to do any work, but Florence is so short and so incredibly charming that it might be my favourite game that actually released in 2018. It’s a narrative game about the life of a relationship between you, Florence, and some dude that maybe had a name but I don’t remember. A lot of the actual activities you do in the game are mundane, like brushing your teeth or unpacking your belongings or doing math on a spreadsheet at work, but they serve to make this very personal story feel all the more grounded.

It’s also the only video game I’ve ever played that has been set in Melbourne, where I live, and incorporates a lot of local places and scenery and that was very cool and exciting for me!

If you have a compatible smartphone please play Florence.

Severed

I don’t know that I really have anything particularly interesting to say about Severed. I played Guacamelee for the first time this year after owning it for a long time and just never getting around to it, and I fell in love with it, devouring it in a few days. It sent me on a trip through Drinkbox Studios’ catalogue, playing all of their games with the exception of Guacamelee 2 (I want to get around to it, but I’m just destined to take a long time getting there). The game that I probably looked forward to the least was Severed. It’s a first-person dungeon crawler with metroidvania elements where the combat and interactions with the world is done exclusively on a touch screen. I don’t like touch screen games at all, especially not ones with precise movements and timing, but I thought I would try it regardless and almost immediately fell in love with it. The art style is incredible and the general tone and mood of the game rules. Guacamelee and those Tales from Space games are super goofy, so I wasn’t expecting Severed to be so… dark. But it is! And it rules. I really can’t oversell how beautiful it is, especially if you play on like a newer iPad or something where the colours can really pop.

Kingdom Hearts II

Kingdom Hearts is some stupid bullshit where you play as a guy who looks like a DeviantArt sketch titled Cloud-Strife-Twink.bmp with amnesia and Donald Duck yells homophobic slurs at you until you remember who you are and then you fight members of a My Chemical Romance cover band because they stole the last of Aladdin’s magic beans until Mickey Mouse shows up to tell you to kiss your girlfriend about it.

It’s the only game franchise in history that makes you want to fly to Japan and choke Tetsuya Nomura to death for making the most consistent voice of reason in this elaborate universe Goofy, the idiot dog-man.

Fuck Kingdom Hearts. Five Stars.

Red Dead Redemption II

Despite feeling totally disenfranchised with the Big Video Game industry, I still remained extremely excited for Red Dead Redemption II. The first game might be my favourite game of all time, and this game just looked like more of that but better looking and bigger and more new.

It *isn’t* that, though. At least not entirely.

The thing that I love the most about this game is that it doesn’t even consider valuing or respecting your time. It goes at its own pace, it takes it’s time in almost every single thing it does. It’s slow, sometimes painfully slow, but in a way that’s consistent. It never feels like it’s slow because they fucked up and a made a mistake or because they needed to pad the game out, it’s slow because that’s the speed that this world moves at and I respect the hell out of it. Newer games seem to lean more towards being snappier and faster and more accessible, which is a largely positive move, but Read Dead Redemption II could have very easily been called Minutiae Simulator 2018 with the amount of small and mundane things it asks of you.

Creating a world this intricate and purposeful and slow made me feel a connection with Arthur Morgan that I don’t know I’ve felt with a video game protagonist in… well, ever, I think? I care about changing his clothes, not just to make him look cooler but just because people need to change their clothes, so he does too. I care about grooming Arthur, making sure he’s well fed and bathes at least somewhat regularly. It got to a point where I realised that I had very easily slipped into role playing this character in a way that I have never done before, and it happened very naturally and without a conscious effort to do it.

I used to live across from a park that held a regular LARPing group and, whatever, that’s cool! They have this thing that they’re passionate about and it lets them engage with it creatively and they have built this community and that’s valid as hell and it rules. But? Also? At the same time? They’re just fuckin’ big huge dorks. They’re still valid, but there is just no escaping that they are giant nerds doing something extremely dorky.

Well the stupid shoe is on the other idiot foot now because that’s me, but without the creativity or community or even the part where you go outside.

At least I don’t have to carry my giant wizard stick on the train.

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bi-bi-richie · 6 years

Note

FUCK please write a fic based on Apartment - Modern Baseball!!!! I've been wanting that for so long but I can't write shit so yeah

I’m SO sorry this took so long!! I was doing so much but it’s here and it’s kinda long! I really liked this prompt and the song was super cool! Thank you for sending it in! Playlist, prompt list

Richie laughs to himself in his head. Of course, I tag along for some loser game night with Bill and end up falling for the cutest boy I’ve ever seen.

Game nights were boring if you ask Richie. He’s not much of a board game person so any time his friend Bill invited him to go, he’d decline. Every time he said no, Bill left a note on the table with the address to the apartment they’d be playing at, just in case he changed his mind. Whenever Richie saw it he rolled his eyes and threw it away. He doesn’t like game nights and he won’t be attending one, ever.

So, it’s kind of weird that he’s walking single file behind Bill and Stan into the apartment they share their game nights on. Truth be told, Richie lost a bet. Not to get too into the bet or anything, but Richie ended up with a sprained wrist and ankle. So now he’s happily limping into the apartment of a complete stranger.

“Geez, Big Bill, you could’ve at least told me who owns this art gallery.” He grumbles, looking at how neat the place is with expensive looking paintings hung around.

“Personally, I think it’s too small to be an art gallery, but considering that was the only insult you could think of I’d imagine you’ve never been to one,” A voice snaps at him. Richie can’t see the person who said that to him, but he sure did like the thrill of being challenged. He stepped away from behind Bill to catch a glimpse of the sharp-mouthed boy, but when his eyes landed on them, he couldn’t speak.

The boy was actually, in Richie’s opinion, not tall enough to be a man. He had neat, soft-looking brown hair that Richie almost reached out to touch. His face was something remarkable, he had the prettiest freckles dancing across his face, and his eyes. He’s never seen anyone with such beautiful, expressive doe eyes. His lips were shining from what Richie can only imagine was chapstick that was applied earlier. Not to mention the way he dressed had Richie swooning. He wore an oversized white hoodie with a rainbow stripe across it that hung off his shoulders and was tucked into his shorts. Oh god, the way these shorts had Richie feeling should be illegal. They were simple red running shorts but they were so so short and tight on the smaller figure.

Before Richie can say anything, the boy is walking away from him. It’s just as well though, Richie couldn’t muster up the courage to say a single word anyway.

He doesn’t stand there with his mouth gaping for long though, eventually, Bill slaps his hand onto Richie’s shoulder and starts dragging him towards the table where they are setting up a game. Richie continues to stay silent but he keeps his eye on new people he sees, and maybe see that boy again.

“Alright guys, this is my friend Richie,” Bill gestured to Richie beside him, “Richie this is everyone.”

“You already know Stan and Bev.” Stan gave him a glance and Bev shot him a smile.

“So this is Mike.” Mike smiled warmly and waved.

“That’s Ben.” Ben also waved from beside Mike.

“And you already met-”

“Me.” A voice speaks up from between Stan and Bev. It’s the same boy from before, he’s holding a bowl of chips with a smug look on his face. Richie can’t bring himself to say a single word once again.

“I’m Eddie, roommates with Ben.” He sticks his hand out for Richie to shake, which he does but surprisingly slowly. He feels his cheeks head up with embarrassment, he never acts this way, and from the look on Bill’s face, everyone can tell something is up. He’s gotta say something, right?

“I’m Richie, but you can call me the man of your dreams.” He blurts, yet it was smoother than he thought it would be. Despite how smooth it came out, he got a scowl from Eddie.

“Cute. If only half the population of New York didn’t hear it before me.” Richie was speechless yet again, but he didn’t have time to save himself because Eddie had moved the conversation on himself.

“Let’s just get playing.”

I still stand by what I said, Richie thought, game nights are stupid. He can practically feel the boredom seeping all throughout his skin. Scrabble was already a boring game, but watching people play it was even worse. Naturally, he wasn’t going to play himself so he couldn’t spice up the game with a few words Ben had deemed “naughty”.

“Seriously you could just make prostate right there!” He cried out watching from behind Bill.

“Beep beep Richie!” Bev retorted at him from across the table. The annoyed statement got a laugh from Eddie who sat next to her.

“Beep beep Richie? Is that like some sort of off button for you?” He snorts, but Richie barely even takes in his teasing. His small smile is so cute, the way his nose scrunches up and how his eyes smile with his mouth. It’s almost enough to take his breath away. So he says something stupid.

“There are other ways to shut me up.” He says with a playful tone. Of course, the one time he meant kissing, it sounds dirty as hell.

“That’s fucking disgusting!” He yells from his seat. He covers his face with his hands and groans in disgust. Richie’s whole face turns pink but yet again, he can’t find the words to explain himself. Then there’s a sudden outburst from Stan who has barely even spoken a word.

“That’s not how you fucking spell thief, William!” It’s spelled t-h-e-i-f.

“Like hell, it isn’t!” Bill cries out.

“He’s right, Bill.” Mike laughs out from his seat looking down at the board game.

“I after e except after c.” Ben gently corrects. Bev snickers and leans over to add a c.

“T-h-c-e-i-f.” She proclaims loudly.

“No!” Half the table yells at once. They all continued to argue until Eddie stood up from his seat and crossed his arms.

“Alright idiots,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’m off to bed. I swear to god if any of you guys wake me up, there will be hell to pay.”

He says all of it while watching Richie with a close eye. It puts a lump in Richie’s throat that he certainly won’t swallow any time soon. Without another word, Eddie turns around and pads down a dark hallway to his room. As Richie watches him leave, he can’t help but feel he annoyed Eddie away.

…

Staring at the floor when walking is dangerous, yet Richie can’t exactly get himself to look up. He’s vaguely watching the two footsteps of Bill and Stan ahead of him but his eyes are low. He has his hands in his front pocket and his shoulders look like they’re caught mid-shrug. He kicks rocks he comes across and stays completely silent. Bill and Stan don’t say anything about it though, if anything, Bill is talking about how he thinks Mike is cute and Stan is agreeing.

Richie is thinking about a cute boy too, someone he fucked his chances up with, or that’s what he thinks. Mentally, he’s pulling at his hair and scolding himself for saying anything at all to the handsome boy. Fuck, Rich, he curses, he’s so far out of your league, the fact that I even said anything is… soul crushing.

Unless Eddie wasn’t out of his league, now that’s a thought that leaves Richie starry-eyed. Maybe… Maybe I’m out of his league, but he’s in mine, who says I can’t get there, right?

“I fucking got it!” He shouted before hitting his face into a pole.

…

Its been three days since Richie has seen Eddie. Three days of devising a plan that any normal person could’ve probably come up within three hours. But Richie, always the precise planner, went over every detail and event that could occur in which this all goes to shit. Three days, and yet in those three days, Richie did not sleep for a wink.

He laid in bed and dreamed with his eyes open about the sassy boy who he desperately wants to make out with. He’s been feeling pretty miserable about it too, he’s still got five days until the next game night. How did it get this bad? This has never happened with a crush before. No matter which crush he had in high school he still slept through every class. Now he’s in college and can’t sleep for shit over some boy. But he’s not “some boy”. He’s Eddie, and Eddie isn’t “some boy”.

He’s laying in bed now, staring at the ceiling thinking about when game night will come back around and what exactly he’ll say. He did this the night before too, he’s had imaginary conversations with Eddie that have gone as far as them making out and going on dates. Its left him with this imaginary way Eddie will respond and talk, but damn does he love it.

Richie tosses in his bed to face the wall that’s covered with band posters and a calendar from two years ago. Five more days of this and he’ll surely be asleep before he can speak a word to Eddie. He’s tried sleeping methods too, warm milk, the four-seven-eight method, relaxing music, etc.

Seriously, I won’t even know what the fuck I’ll be saying next time I see him. He groans into his pillow, why do I have to wait?

Oh… He thinks as he slowly sits up in bed, I don’t have to wait… I’m a fucking adult… Oh my god-

Then he’s shooting out of bed and goes for his hoodie.

…

Good news, Eddie’s room has a balcony. Bad news, now that he’s climbed up to the balcony, he’s not exactly sure if he can knock on the door. Ridiculous considering he had been planning their game night interactions since the moment he met him. This is way off though, it’s dark in his room and from what Richie can tell, he’s asleep. Before he climbed up he was worried it was actually Ben’s room, given that they’re roommates. He climbed the whole way up hoping and praying that it was Eddie’s room. He was reassured that it was when he saw his pair of short shorts hanging over his laundry basket. But now he’s standing out there in the cold, surrounded by potted plants in pastel blue pots, like a stalker.

Just do it, Tozier. He cruses to himself as he paces back and forth on the tiny balcony. You came all this way and now you’re just gonna bail? What are you? A stalker?

The bundle on the bed shifts causing Richie to freeze in his tracks and look in, he doesn’t meet the eyes on anyone so he can only assume Eddie was just adjusting himself. That would probably be the best chance to wake him up, given that he’s already moving around, he’d probably wake up any second out of the blue anyway.

It’s now or never Tozier. He knocks on the door. At first, it does nothing, Eddie doesn’t even stir. Then he knocks a little harder which has Eddie shifting over to face the door yet his eyes are still closed. Richie knows for a fact that he’s blushing at the sight of seeing Eddie asleep. He looks so peaceful, it’s truly the opposite of his usual firecracker self. His lips are parted and drool is leaking from one side, so it’s really punching Richie in his feelings.

He knocks for a third time and finally, Eddie opens his eyes to see a freezing beanstalk standing outside. It takes him a moment to process it in his sleepy haze, but when he catches on he jumps up out of the bed and goes to let Richie in.

“What the fuck?!” Eddie yells out when Richie throws his body inside the room.

“Has anyone ever complimented you on just how lovely you decorate that balcony?” He asks with a shit-eating grin like he didn’t just welcome himself into his crushes room.

“Has anyone ever complimented you on your stalking skills?” He retorts. There’s fire in his voice and yet Richie is sure he caught a faint sound of amusement in it.

“Well, I couldn’t just knock on the door, what if Ben opened it instead of you? How would I get to your pretty face, huh?” He plops himself on a small couch Eddie has on the side of his room facing the front of Eddie’s bed.

“Well, given that Ben is out of town for two weeks, I’d say you’d get to see me before anyone else if you just-” He curls his hand into a fist and taps it against the door Richie had just walked through- “knocked.”

“Oh, Eds!” He groaned, rolling his head to the back of the couch, “you don’t know anything about my good-natured ways!”

“I know you like to mindlessly flirt,” Eddie grumbles, still standing next to the door with his arms crossed.

“Now that, my favorite acquaintance, is some bullshit,” Richie states, propping his head up on his hands. “I don’t mindlessly flirt, I mindlessly get flustered.”

His explanation runs smoothly out of his mouth but every other feature of him is showing just how nervous he really is, like the bobbing of his leg.

“Ah I see, so you just say sexual things when you get flustered?” Eddie scoffs.

“Oh fuck! That wasn’t meant to be sexual!” Richie slaps a hand over his forehead and runs it down to his chin with a groan.

“There are other ways to shut me up, what the fuck is wrong with you!?” Eddie says after a poorly done imitation.

“I meant kissing! I swear that to you! I wouldn’t say sexual things to someone I’d wanna go on a date with first!”

“But you break into their apartments?!”

“You let me in.”

“You’re insufferable!” Eddie cries as he collapses onto the bed. Richie doesn’t say a word after that, he goes dead quiet. Now, Richie doesn’t seem like the kind of person to let feelings get the best of him. If anything, he comes off as a person who doesn’t have any feelings but joy. But any of his close friends could tell you the truth.

Richie knows he’s too much sometimes, he knows he can be annoying and quite frankly he annoys himself. Richie knows that he’s driven some girlfriends and boyfriends away because of his personality. Nobody wants to stick around with the guy who gets into a fight every week and loses more than he wins. Nobody wants someone who speaks without thinking and hopes it all blows over okay. Nobody wants the guy who cries himself to sleep because he’s scared of losing the people he loves. Nobody wants Richie.

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispers. He’s looking down at his hands, refusing to even look in the other boy’s direction. He doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks Eddie’s breath might’ve hitched or something.

“You’re sorry?” Eddie’s voice is low, not in an angry tone but more in a cautious tone. Like he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yes.” Richie nods his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I should’ve just dropped it when you weren’t interested. I swear I’m not trying to force myself onto you, I just wanted a shot.”

He doesn’t hear Eddie get up, but he feels it when Eddie’s body pulls the couch under his weight. Eddie is sitting close to him, not touching but it wouldn’t be much movement if they did.

“I like you, y’know? I didn’t wanna drive you away because it happens all the time to me. I probably did though… I’m sorry, okay? That’s all.”

Then they don’t speak. It’s just the slow breathing from the two of them filling the tension-filled silence. Eddie keeps staring at Richie though, his eyes are fixed on only the taller boy with a look that Richie can’t read because he’s not looking directly at it. He has a dreading feeling in his stomach that Eddie might just kick him out anyway, refuse to believe anything he’s saying.

The longer time goes on in silence, the more Richie wants to cut the tension with a kitchen knife.

“So… you were just nervous?” Eddie asks quietly. Richie weakly nods.

“It’s pathetic… I’m sorry. Maybe I should just go-”

“Wait, Richie.” Eddie places a hand on Richie’s to stop him from making any movement. They both know Richie could get up and leave if he wanted to, but Richie wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t wanna make this worse.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have called you insufferable, or accused you of only wanting sex. I just don’t like when people take advantage of me like that, even if you didn’t.”

Eddie loudly clears his throat and sticks his hand out.

“I’m Eddie Kaspbrak, I’m twenty-seven, gay, and I’ve had a terrible past love life.” His voice is surprisingly genuine, it really does wonders to Richie’s already flipping heart. Richie takes his hand and shakes it twice.

“I’m Richie Tozier, I’m twenty-six, bi, and I have also had a terrible past love life.” Eddie giggles at that, a precious giggle that makes Richie wanna press a million kisses against his lips immediately.

“I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you’d like to hang out tomorrow night?” Eddie asks. He’s clearly blushing and doing his best to hide his face and excitement by brushing his hair out of his face. “We could make dinner or something…”

Richie nods his head as fast as he can, grinning as wide as he can, showing off his huge buck teeth and childlike glee.

“I’d like that so much.”

…

Two months later they sit on that same couch, except this time they’re making out like their lives depend on it. Richie is confident that this has been the most amazing two months of his life. He got the best boyfriend ever, a new job at a radio station, and he’s only a month away from finishing college.

Eddie pulls his head back from Richie, his lips shine with a mixture of Richie and his spit. It’s truly a breathtaking sight for the taller boy he’s straddling.

“God, I think I love you,” Eddie growls.

It doesn’t take Richie even a second to reply.

“Good, because I know I love you.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #the losers club

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