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justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

xisuma doesn’t smooth over a server glitch fast enough. the others have to save him from the consequences.

in this fic, i play loosely with minecraft mechanics to create angst. very loosely. don’t think too much about ‘em. you can also date how long i’ve spent on this by the projects they’re working on.

featuring: being an admin gives you a connection to the server, xisuma has a less than stellar day, angst/comfort, zed is an ender hybrid, false & tango are minor admins, getting stuck in blocks is not a fun experience, the hermits care a lot about each other.

warnings: sensory deprivation, starvation, suffocation, its a death loop babyyy, a fair amount of panic, fighting code, glitches, helplessness, it’s pretty whumpy before the comfort. let me know if something’s missing here.

also on ao3. link in replies.

Xisuma sighs as the sun beats down on him. It's barely let up, even on the outskirts of the jungle. He enjoys the brief stints in the shadow of the giant quartz walls. Even then, waves of heat come off them. All of the structures in his base are a heat trap. Clearing out several layers of dirt and stone is a necessity he should've left for another day. With a click, he tugs his helmet off his head. The humidity outside is worse than his filtered air. He tucks the helmet under his arm, pushing sweat slicked hair from his face.

He's made good progress levelling this arena space. He leaves his helmet on his bed and heads to the temporary storage chests. They're filling up quickly, he notices, as he starts emptying his inventory into them. Except, something's broken. The stacks of blocks aren't all moving. He tries a few times before sighing, ruffling his hair. When he turns to the area he's been mining, it's still empty. It's been a long time since they've had desync this bad. He's not even sure when it started.

Stepping gently across the stone, he can feel the heat rising from them. He'll rollback the world and then he'll relax by Keralis's river. The farm is delightfully cool. Anything will be better than this oppressive heat.

He's almost reached his bed when something takes hold in his chest and pulls.

He stumbles forward with a gasp. Of course, the server decides to fix itself this time. He forces his feet forward, trying to reach his helmet so he can smooth things over. He only makes it two steps until his eyes are forced shut as the server reloads. For a split second, all he feels is the chill of the void as chunks reload around him.

He opens his eyes to darkness. It feels like he's suspended in space, unable to move. There's a suffocating pressure around him. Though it's with shallow breaths, he can still breathe. Did something go wrong? He blinks hard. All of his limbs are accounted for, he's certainly present. Even when he's working in the void there are still particles around him. His attempt to raise his arm fails, finding it impossible to open his back up admin panel. His helmet is- where even is his helmet?

His breath hitches, a feeling of panic escaping his controlled calm. He feels like he can't breathe. He can't move. He's trapped in his own body.

What's happening?

[MumboJumbo] anybody else just experience some major desync?

[Keralis1] Oh, is that what that was?

[Zedaph] I had nearly finished my redstone! All of that work, gone!

[FalseSymmetry] didn't you notice you weren't actually... losing anything from your inventory?

[Tango] he was probably too caught up in his supposed mastery

[FalseSymmetry] everybody okay though?

[Grian] all good here!

[Zedaph] Only my pride's wounded.

False looks down at the bedrock layer at her base. Like half an hour spent placing glass, all gone to waste. She groans, closing her chat as it pings away. Sure, she can rib Zedaph, but that doesn't change the fact she just did the exact same thing. She kicks off the sidewalk, gliding to the bedrock layer. She can feel the cold of the void float up with specks of grey.

"Good going, False," she murmurs. Some patches of glass survived. It's almost worse, that's going to be so much less satisfying to fill in. She takes her goggles off, tugging her hair loose to tie it in a low ponytail. Usually Xisuma gives them a warning before the server resets like that. It always messes up her hair, leaves it floaty and static.

She adjusts her goggles on her head, opening the player menu. Xisuma's currently online. She checks chat. He hasn't said anything. She considers it strange, but it's not unusual. Maybe he's been at a farm and isn't AFKing. She types out a private message, sending it across to him.

[FalseSymmetry to Xisuma] hey x, server blipped, might need to check it when you get back.

She'll see if he returns her message. She's got glass to place.

Iskall looks through his in-progress sorting system with a frown. It's broken somewhere. The stupid server reload has glitched it out and he can't find how. He's checked the redstone, he's checked the hoppers and he's checked the chests! Which means it's glitched. Either Xisuma reloads the chunk for him, or he's going to have to tear it down.

Actually, he'll probably have to tear it down anyway. Reloading the chunk will only roll it back.

At least he's not the only person who's redstone has been ruined. The thought brings some comfort. If he has to be miserable, somebody else should be too. He opens his communicator, checking who's around at the moment. That might take his mind off it.

He notices that Xisuma's online. Their admin has been quiet in chat since the reload. Maybe there's something going on behind the scenes he's having to sort out. He'll reach out to Mumbo and Grian, but first, he sends a message X's way.

[iskall85 to Xisuma] hey is everything alright? nothing broke?

[iskall85 to Xisuma] don't forget you can reach out to us if you need help.

He has no idea how much time has passed. Usually he's connected intrinsically to the server. It helps him keep track of the world, dig out any errors or mishaps - sometimes before his suit alerts him. It's essential for his job in order to keep things running smoothly. The server is always there, at the edges of his consciousness.

In this nothing, he can't even keep track of his internal clock. Perhaps it's his own panic, but the code he tries to reach out to feels fuzzy. It feels like it's glitching, sending shooting pains through his head if he focuses too hard. He couldn't take a guess how long he's been trapped. His breathing still comes too fast and shallow, ignoring his attempts to calm down.

He's completely helpless here. And he doesn't even know where here is.

Tango stares up at the stars on his ceiling. He checks his inventory again, counting aloud. He flicks it off with a frown. Yeah, he's definitely missing some. It's not a massive deal, Impulse will be happy to help out. But if he's having problems then some of the other hermits might be. Perhaps they fell and despawned in the reload. Either way.

"Tangoooooo!" The cry is accompanied by several rockets, something hitting the ground and the sound of damage. He chuckles, stepping away as Zed soars over the edge, stumbling forward with a flutter of his elytra. Tango straightens him up with his free hand.

"No, I'm not doing your redstone for you." Zedaph gasps, dusting off his jeans. He bounces up with a grin.

"You really think I'd come all this way for that?" Zed questions.

"So why have you come all the way here?"

"I'm bored," Zed replies. "And it still stings too much to do my redstone again." Tango laughs, opening up his chat. Xisuma's online, though Tango doesn't expect an immediate response.

"How do you feel about some wither grinding?" He types a message to Xisuma, Zedaph attempting to peer over his shoulder.

"Mmm, I don't see why not."

[Tango to Xisuma] Hey, seem to have lost some stars when the server reset

[Tango to Xisuma] might wanna check nothing important got eaten.

"Right, let's go."

Keralis hums, staring at the plot he was about to start building on. The area has been a bit... Funny. He'll break and replace a block, only to have it switch again. He might have to work on another area until it sorts itself out. His attempts at working here started after the reload, so he doesn't know if that caused it. He's not been able to spot Xisuma nearby either. He's been online, but Keralis hasn't spotted him in chat for a while.

He sighs as he watches the last blocks he placed switch back as if nothing happened. Crossing his arms, he examines the area. He wonders how big this is. Definitely more than one chunk. His new house is going to have to wait. He was excited to show Xisuma around, too.

With a glance at the sky, he realises it's late afternoon. He yawns, stretching his back out. Perhaps it'll be best to settle in his office and work on some future designs. He'll drop a message in chat first, in case this is affecting anyone else. It might give him an excuse to hunt down Shishwamy. He always feels guilty bothering him about things. Their admin takes far too much responsibility on his shoulders. They’re all adults. Keralis wishes he’d ask for help sometimes.

[Keralis1] Has anyone else been having glitchy blocks?

[iskall85] some of my redstone is broken but it's no biggie

[Tango] lost some of my nether stars with the reload but it's been fine since.

[FalseSymmetry] been placing glass without any problems since the reset

[MumboJumbo] I haven't had any problems either.

[Keralis1] A bunch of chunks around our bases are glitching

[Keralis1] but it seems like Shishwamy is busy :(

[Grian] well it looks like he just went afk

[iskall85] that answers that lol

His mind is becoming blurry. It's hard to focus on... Anything. He can't tell if it's because he's struggling to breathe, or something further, tugging him down and away. He tries to fight against it but there's nothing he can do to stay present. He can't hear anything, barely even his shallow breaths. He can only feel the consistent pressure on every inch of his body, the wet tears on his cheeks. He tries pulling on every one of his senses, but nothing comes up.

He slips under.

False empties the last of this glass stack, stepping back at a job well done. She smiles, rubbing her aching hands. It's nice to finally work on this part of her base. Even better now it's not going to pick itself up. At least she hopes so. She'll be right annoyed if it happens again. Something's been tingling at the back of her head, though. She wonders if it's because of the reset.

She looks up at the late afternoon sky. That's enough work for today. As she stretches, she can feel each and every ache in her body. She brushes away her hair, already falling loose. Maybe she'll have something nice for dinner. Some steak, potatoes and pumpkin pie. If she has pumpkin, of course. Xisuma was planning to build a pumpkin farm, wasn't he? His traditional pumpkin and melon combination. She chuckles to herself as she pulls out her rockets.

No matter how things change from season to season, there will always be things that don't. Hermits might come and go, but they'll always be her family.

She launches up, shooting through the water barrier. It's fast enough it doesn't stick. She lands gracefully, making her way to the kitchen. She hopes this nudging in her head doesn't get worse. She just wants to enjoy a nice meal. That's all.

"Well, I think we have a plan," Grian declares, grinning from his perch. His legs are crossed, hands resting in his lap.

"I mean, we didn't exactly need a plan to fix our redstone," Mumbo replies, slouched in his chair the way he only ever does in front of them. Iskall chuckles, resting his hands behind his head. They've really helped take his mind off the broken redstone. Mumbo had a similar problem, so tomorrow they'll meet up again and attempt some fixes.

"Always helps," Iskall says, shrugging. "Especially when one of us spends so much time in the Nether depths, now." Grian laughs, his legs kicking.

"Hey, I'm doing good work out there!" Mumbo yawns, looking between them.

"Well I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted."

"Food then sleep?" Grian suggests. Iskall nods. It's been a long day.

It's dark as Zedaph and Tango return from The End. Zedaph yawns, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. Tango rubs the side of his own hair. Something's been bothering him, but he can't tell what. Like there's something just not... Right. Zedaph is chatting beside him, a bounce in his step. It's like he doesn't feel it at all.

"Do you want to have dinner together?" Zed asks, twirling his sword by his side. They've repaired their tools, done everything properly. It's been a hard day's work, but they've achieved a lot, even with the setback.

"Yeah, dinner sounds good." He looks at the night sky, squinting his eyes. Zedaph tilts his head at him. The purple eyes are concerned, particles floating up in his worry.

"Tango, are you okay? You seem... Off." Tango sighs, waving Zedaph's worry away.

"Something's nagging me. It's not a big deal." Zedaph's still frowning, but the particles die down.

"Let's just get you something to eat, yeah?" Tango nods, leaning into Zedaph when he squeezes his shoulder.

"Sounds good to me."

Keralis watches the night sky overhead. He's sat in the doorway to his office, a blanket around his shoulders. The stars are always a beautiful sight. It's the perfect way to relax after such a, hm, busy day. Not busy in a conventional sense, no, but still busy. His specially commissioned noteblock song plays in the background, a perfect accompaniment in the peaceful night. He thinks it's strange how the stars always seem the same no matter what world they're in. Maybe he should ask Xisuma about it in the future.

He pops up his screens open. Xisuma is still afk. He misses seeing his neighbour out and about. Xisuma often spends time at his farms, it's nothing new. But Keralis enjoys saying hello to him! Especially after missing well... Years of his life. He tries not to think about that.

With a sigh, he lies against the doorway. Time for bed soon. He laughs at the sound of Bubbles' voice in his head. His communicator beeps and he glances over to it.

Huh. That's interesting.

Xisuma is thrown into full consciousness. His stomach is still cramping with phantom hunger. He opens his eyes and finds...

Black.

No, no, he died. He died. Why has he respawned here? He chokes on his sob, realising no air is entering his lungs. His cheeks are still wet with tears, more leaking out as he gasps at nothing. His lungs burn, unable to take the shallow breaths he needs to. Would it even help? He wants to curl up, clutch at the growing pain in his chest. But he can't move an inch. Heaviness sinks into his limbs and head.

He wakes again in the same place. He doesn't know if he wants to scream or cry. There's not enough air for him to scream, anyway.

[Xisuma starved to death]

[MumboJumbo] X?? mate?

[Tango] X?

[FalseSymmetry] do we need to get your stuff?

[Keralis1] I'm by his base.

[Tango] he's not afk anymore

[Grian] x???????

[iskall85] maybe he's getting his stuff rn

[Keralis1] Shishwammmmyyyyyyy

[MumboJumbo] starving isn't a nice way to go

[Zedaph] It really isn't.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[iskall85] oh no

[FalseSymmetry] x???? im going over

[Keralis1] so am i

[Tango] this isn't right, this really isn't right

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Grian] what's going on???

False shimmies back into her elytra, reaching for the one jacket potato that finished cooking. So much for having a sit-down meal. She rubs her head, pushing away the fear that has something to do with this. Her communicator continues beeping as she grabs her rockets. She runs to the entrance, kicking off and launching into the air.

"We should go and help," Iskall decides, already picking up his armour.

"Thought you'd never say." Mumbo straps his elytra on, grabbing a spare shulker box and an ender chest. Grian nods with a seriousness that doesn't fit on his face.

"Let's go."

"We're going?" Zed asks. He's already stuffing food into his mouth. Tango rubs his temples, nodding. He takes the elytra that's thrusted into his hand.

"Yeah. We're definitely going." He watches the particles floating off Zed in waves, glowing the same purple as his pupils. Tango presses his eyes shut against another spike of pain as their communicators beep. "C'mon."

Keralis scrabbles until he balances on the tower roof. He's searched each one and not found X anywhere. Tapping his foot, he meddles with his communicator to turn some settings on. He has no minor admin powers - that he has to leave to False and Tango - but he can at least try this.

"Ah-hah!" He grins as hitboxes light up beneath him, hopefully a better clue where his currently red coloured friend may be. He scans the towers closely, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. There are a few mobs, especially as night sets in. Then he sees Xisuma's new build.

He has to take a step back at the sight. The chunks look- a mess. The outline of the blocks are overlapped or flickering. It hurts to look at. Blocks aren't meant to highlight like that. He glides across the treetops. It not only covers the area he was trying to work earlier but spreads into Xisuma's current build. Yeah that's- that's bad. That's not good. His communicator has continued to beep with messages as he searched. He goes to read it, and spots different colours in the mess. The red of an eyeline. He stands on his toes, leaning off the leaves. The outline flickers in and out, accompanied by a beep.

He thinks he's found X.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Keralis1] he's in his new build!

[Keralis1] I think I can see him in the ground

[Keralis1] it is very very broken

[FalseSymmetry] tango? you on your way?

[Tango] as we speak

[Tango] been a long time since we've had to use these powers

[FalseSymmetry] not long enough

Tango and Zedaph are the first to land by Keralis's side. They kick up loose powder from the road, taking in the massive structure in front of them. Tango's shoulders raise, cringing at the sight.

"That's definitely broken," he agrees, his eyes twisting as they focus.

"And Xisuma's in the middle of it?" Zedaph looks at Keralis. He nods, usually big eyes sharply focused. He points beyond the walls.

"You can just see his name tag. I think the glitched blocks have got him stuck. I tried to build there earlier but nothing would stay." Tango presses his lips together in thought as False lands. They nod to each other in acknowledgement.

"How long does it take until the blocks pop back?"

Keralis hums, tapping his chin before answering, "About ten seconds, I think."

"That's not going to be enough time to reach him," Zed says. "Can't you just teleport him?" He looks at Tango and False. Tango opens his console menu, typing something in. Zed can tell the answer before Tango says it.

"What ideas do we have?" Keralis asks. "We can't just leave him there!"

"Of course not!" Tango replies, sounding shocked at the suggestion. "We just- need a plan." False nods.

"We're not as powerful as X," she explains, "Together we should be able to roll back these chunks but- I have no idea what that would mean for Xisuma. We don't really work with player code." She brushes her hair back. The conversation is paused as the trio of Grian, Iskall and Mumbo land beside them. The three slot in, listening as they're caught up.

"There has to be something that's making him spawn there." Iskall points out, his hand held towards the structure. False searches through the control panel, whilst Keralis and Tango simply examine the messed up blocks.

"He has a bed in there," Tango answers. False taps where Xisuma's spawn is tied to on her screen.

"Since the blocks are glitched, it must mean the bed isn't like... Registering them. Since they don't fully exist." She thinks about it carefully, putting the pieces together as she explains.

"So if we break the bed, he'll respawn at the world spawn?" Grian suggests.

"But how do we get down there?" Mumbo turns to look. It's pretty far down in the ground. They'd have to move quick to get near where Xisuma is.

"There's a few of us." Iskall waves at the gathered group. "I say with enough TNT and manpower, we could do it."

"Wait-" Zedaph holds his hand up, "-Get me close enough and I can teleport in there, get the bed. Less blocks to destroy."

"Zed." Tango turns to him, glaring at the blond. "That's a stupid idea, don't you get how dangerous that is-"

"Xisuma is stuck in a death loop, Tango!" Zed cuts in, raising his voice. The others fall silent, not sure how to handle this exchange. "Sure, I might die a bit! That's nothing compared to what Xisuma's currently experiencing."

"TNT will destroy a fair amount, but it already puts us on a time limit," Grian adds, a sideways agreement.

"I'm willing to do it. Either we reach the bed, or I teleport in." Zed says it with finality. The others don't argue. False checks his spawn point. Zedaph will respawn back in his cave, safe and sound. Even if it goes wrong, it'll be recoverable.

"We need to be ready to roll back the chunks," False says, focusing on Tango. "If I have this headache for much longer I'm going to go insane." Tango smiles tiredly.

"Fine. Let's try this." He shrugs. "I don't think we have a better idea."

"Well, come on! Let's go!" Keralis claps, placing an ender chest. Tango sighs, typing in a command.

"I think I'm allowed this time," he says, a stack of TNT appearing in his hand.

"And other times?" Grian asks. Even through the teasing, they can hear the fear in his voice.

"Don't push it."

There's noises. He blinks his eyes open into the unending darkness. He tries to focus past his burning chest and the weight of his body. There's... Definitely noises up above him. It sounds like explosions. The space he's stuck in shakes slightly. After another lapse, he gasps back to life in the same position. He wants to scream, tell somebody he's down here. This opportunity might not come again.

Then he feels a sharp stab of pain. Something is there, near him. Everything hurts and he still can't breathe. For a moment, he thinks he hears the trill of an Enderman. His tired mind can't figure out how as he runs out of air.

He wakes up to a chill. He slightly opens his eyes, spotting yellow sand as he falls, blacking out.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Zedaph suffocated]

[Grian] have we done it?

[Keralis1] he's at worldspawn! got him!

[iskall85] YES!!!

[Zedaph] Oh thank goodness I don't want to do that again

[World reloaded]

[Tango] Z, you okay?

[Zedaph] I'm good. Bring my stuff? I'm going to worldspawn

[FalseSymmetry] will do

"Keralis!" Zedaph's elytra beats as he lands, feet digging into the sand. "Is he okay?" Keralis nods. Xisuma's head is resting in his lap. The admin's eyes are closed as he breathes slowly. His expression is relaxed. It's a good sight to see. The spawn island is lit up well, but Keralis keeps his eye on the surrounding oceans.

"He's sleeping," Keralis says, messing with strands of brown hair. "I don't think I'm strong enough to move him on my own." Zedaph drops onto the sand next to them, crossing his legs. There are still bright particles floating off him, his eyes fully purple. "What about you, Zee?" Zedaph seems to notice Keralis's focus, ducking away to hide his eyes.

"Um, not the best. That kind of sucked. But, it worked, and that's what matters!"

"Make sure you look after yourself, too," Keralis tells him. "Fighting the server's code isn't easy." Zedaph laughs, resting on his hands.

"Can say that again. Forgot we have anti-enderman griefing." Keralis cringes, realising why Zed looks so much like he might collapse. It'll pass, but it's never fun to go against programming like that. The architech trio arrives next. All of them look relieved to see the three on the island.

"Oh, Zedaph, I have your stuff." Mumbo starts emptying it out, the few things Zedaph couldn't fit in an ender chest. Zedaph smiles, tugging his helmet on and feeling a lot more comfortable. He tries not to meet anybody's eyes.

"Tango and False will be on their way. They're just checking everything's good," Grian tells them, hands moving quickly as he talks.

"Should we try moving X somewhere safer?" Iskall suggests. "The shopping district isn't that far."

"If you're willing to boat him." Keralis is firm. "I don't want him dropped in the ocean."

"I swear nothing will happen to him under our watch." Grian puts his hand on his heart. Iskall and Mumbo nod in agreement.

"It'll be the safest boat journey on the server." Iskall's hands are on his hips. Keralis tilts his head up.

"Look into my eyes and nothing but my eyes, if anything happens to my Shishwamy, I will not hold back." The architechs look suitably threatened.

"Can I boat with someone?" Zedaph asks. "I nearly crashed so many times flying over here."

"Hop in the back of mine!" Iskall calls, placing one in the water. Grian plucks Xisuma into his arms, carrying him to the edge of the water. He sets the admin in the boat before climbing in himself. Keralis checks him over before nodding and allowing Grian to keep him.

"I've told the others to meet us there," Mumbo says. "I'm going to fly across and see where's best to bunker down. I think we could all use some sleep."

Zedaph looks at the moon hanging overhead, "Yeah, I think we could."

[MumboJumbo] we're heading to the shopping district.

[FalseSymmetry] thats a good plan

[MumboJumbo] any idea who's shop we could stay in?

[FalseSymmetry] my dimension shop is pretty empty

[FalseSymmetry] plenty of room for some beds. pretty warm.

[Tango] we'll get it set up for you

[MumboJumbo] ok. ill protect the others

[Keralis1] so will I.

The first thing Xisuma picks up on is the talking. He stays still, trying to tell if his brain is playing tricks on him after so long in the nothing. His body is like a rock. He's barely able to move. His lungs still ache and it takes some conscious effort to continue breathing. He blinks his eyes open, wincing at bright lights. Light. There's light. He rolls forward, a sob leaving his lips before he can catch it.

"Xisuma, hey, hey." The voice is soft, casting a shadow over him. Xisuma forces his eyes open now the worst of the brightness is blocked out. Keralis is crouching in front of the bed. His fingers gently brush across Xisuma's cheek. For once, Xisuma doesn't feel the dried tears that had become his constant. "You're okay, you're safe. We got you." Xisuma takes a shaking breath in, squeezing his arms to feel the pressure of his own touch.

"Do you want your helmet?" He flits to look at False. The mere sight of his helmet is overwhelming. He reaches out and wraps it close to his chest. Keralis laughs gently, scratching through Xisuma's hair. The admin sighs, his eyes slipping closed once more.

"There you go." He can hear the smile in Keralis's voice. "We've got you, right here." The sound of movement. Cracking his eyes open reveals False sitting in front of the bed, weaving her hand into Xisuma's. He squeezes it gently.

"You're in my shop, in the shopping district," she tells him. "It's past midnight. You're completely safe here. We've got things sorted, there's nothing you need to worry about." A tear slips from his eye. Keralis wipes it away.

"What happened?" He can't make his voice louder than a whisper, and even that hurts.

"Something went wrong with the world reload," False tells him. He can trust her not to sugarcoat things. "We all had a few bugs, but the chunks around you glitched out badly. Created a bunch of like... Invisible blocks, but they were visible, if you get what I mean? They weren't fully there. Ugh, Tango's better at all this technical stuff." Xisuma tries to peer around for him, but the light still hurts if he looks for too long.

"You were stuck in a bunch of them," Keralis finishes. "We didn't realise until you starved and got stuck in a death loop. I'm really sorry, Xisuma."

"We broke your bed to get you out. Well, Zedaph did. The others got him close enough then Tango and I fixed the area. It's all sorted." Xisuma forces his sluggish brain to put the pieces together. He didn't dream up that enderman sound. That was-

"He's over there, sleeping. Tango's with him." Keralis points at a bed nearby. Tango's back blocks any sight of their part Ender friend, but Xisuma can see purple particles floating into the air. A concerning amount of them.

"What did Zed do?" He asks, the vice around his lungs tightening in concern.

"Um," Keralis answers, False looking at him. "He mentioned fighting the anti-enderman griefing code? So I think he picked the bed up." Xisuma's stomach drops. He tries to push himself up but collapses onto his back again.

"Hey, X, careful," False warns. Her voice is stern but Xisuma shakes his head.

"No- I-" He shuts his eyes, fighting off disorientation. "The server's going to keep fighting him. I've got to reset it." False helps him sit up, but she still watches him with concern. He picks up his helmet, pulling it on and relaxing slightly as all the displays flicker to life. Now when he looks at Zedaph he can see the extent of the damage. His very code seems to be fighting itself. "Help me up?"

False gets an arm around his chest. He ends up leaning his weight against her to stand, his legs shaking. She's firm, grip only tightening to accommodate his need. Keralis hovers nearby, ready to jump in if he has to. They take slow steps across the room. Xisuma strains to see under the light, but the tint of his helmet helps. He can see the architechs sat nearby, watching without any attempt at discretion.

Tango looks up as they approach. Xisuma can see the resignation on his face.

"This isn't going to fix itself, is it?" He asks. His hand in clasped tightly in Zedaph's, whose usually bright expression is twisted in pain. His skin is all too pale, black freckles spreading into larger patches across his face. He doesn't open his eyes, not even as Tango moves so Xisuma can sit down. The grip on each other's hand remains tight.

"I need to reset the code that's attacking him," Xisuma explains. His words have a tired slur he can't quite hide. "I'm gonna write an exception, I can't believe I haven't already just- not right now. Don't wanna do it wrong."

"Xisuma, it's okay." Tango smiles, pinched but genuine. "I'm sorry you need to do this." Xisuma shakes his head.

"It's nobody's fault," False says, "Do what you need to do, X. Then you're going back to bed." Keralis hums in agreement. Xisuma laughs softly as the command screens in his helmet boot up.

He zones out the others around him, leaning on Keralis's shoulder when his friend perches beside him. He scrolls through information as he brings up Zedaph's data on one screen. With one eye on it, he unlocks the data packs, searching through them. He gives voice instructions with his microphone muted to the outside world. Finding the pack he needs, he disables it and checks Zedaph's data. It looks like his code is straightening out again. Thank goodness. He makes sure all activity is deactivated before he turns the pack back on.

"That should do it," he mumbles, before realising his microphone is still off. He reactivates it before repeating himself.

"Maybe you should teach us a bit more sometime," False squeezes his shoulder, helping him up. Xisuma slings his arm over False with a nod. That would be good.

"Thank you, X." Tango smiles. He rubs his thumb across Zedaph's hand. The ender hybrid has relaxed, face slack. It looks like he's properly sleeping now. Xisuma can finally rest.

"Come on. Don't you fall asleep here, I don't want to carry you across." Xisuma hums, too tired to commit to any words. Before he knows it, he's sitting down on the comfortable bed again.

"Shishwam, lemme get your helmet." Xisuma nods, tilting his head up so Keralis can unlatch it and bring it off. His head rolls onto his shoulder the moment it's gone. Keralis giggles, ruffling his hair. "Come on, sleepy time." False lies him down, his helmet tucked safely in his arms. Keralis's hand slips into his. Xisuma shuts his eyes, before blinking them open again.

"Stay?" He asks, too tired to worry about being needy. He doesn't want to be alone in that darkness again.

"Of course," False replies.

"We're not going anywhere," Keralis adds. Xisuma smiles at them both, eyes slipping closed. The darkness is manageable with his friends by his side.

"Don't you dare wake them up," False hisses, watching as Grian and Iskall play with redstone. The morning sun is beginning to shine through the cracks in the windows. She's exhausted, having only caught a quick nap. Keralis is asleep next to Xisuma, sitting on the floor with his head resting on the bed. Tango's slid into bed beside Zedaph, holding him close to his chest. Mumbo's dead to the world across the room.

"We won't!" Grian calls, trying to figure out the game he could make out of this mechanic. Iskall has a Statues book open, an armour stand sat in front of a piston.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if the two people who have done this with armour stands were helping," Iskall points out, flicking through the pages.

"We're fine, it's part of the adventure!" Grian watches as the piston shoots the armour stand across the room. False smiles, leaning back against the bed. Some of the other hermits have been coming online with the early morning. Thankfully, they don't seem to know about everything that went down yesterday. It's best things are quiet for Xisuma whilst he rests. She's sure he’ll tell them about it. She'll make sure he does.

As the sun grows higher with the dawn, she dozes off again. Grian is yawning, him and Iskall only catching a few hours of sleep. He's still buzzing with activity. He'll crash later, easy enough.

It's to this quiet atmosphere that Xisuma wakes up. Iskall and Grian are still experimenting. Grian’s laughter rings out as the armour stand bounces in the air. The beat of the piston is monotonous, but they're nearly falling over each other at the sight. Xisuma watches with a soft smile, eyes barely opened.

"It we got one on top, do you think it would-" Grian holds his hand up, demonstrating an armour stand shaking up and down aggressively. Iskall chuckles, shaking his head.

"It's only the morning, we don't need to break physics yet."

"It's for science," Grian protests. He sounds breathless, half-delirious with his need for sleep.

"Please don't make me do work," Xisuma whispers, all too aware of the sleeping hermits around him. Grian perks up, Iskall turning to him with a grin.

"'Suma!" Iskall calls. Xisuma smiles at both of them, making no attempt to move. He's comfortable here and he doesn't want to wake his friends.

"Exy-Suma!" Grian slides across, leaving a gap from the sleeping hermits. Iskall stands by his side, resting his hand on Grian's shoulder. "How are you feeling?" Xisuma wraps his arm tighter around his helmet.

"Not the best, my friend," he answers honestly. "But I'm certainly better than before."

"Well, we'll just have to make that even better then." Grian is committed to the cause now. He's going to make Xisuma's day.

"You don't have to rush back into things," Iskall says, offering a smile. "I'm sure we can handle ourselves today."

"I don't think I'm getting out of this bed anytime soon." Xisuma looks down at Keralis, dark hair brushing Xisuma's chest plate. False is asleep slouched in the chair beside him. Even without being able to see the other occupants of the room, he can still tell they're sleeping. "Feels a bit weird not going for a jog at this time, though."

"I'm sure your legs won't wither away after one morning, X," Iskall jokes. "Be lazy like the rest of us." Grian grins.

"We could always play some mini-games later, too!" Xisuma laughs, stretching as much as he can without shifting Keralis. He's beginning to regret sleeping in his armour, but it's too late now.

The three chat with each other, Xisuma offering advice now he's awake. They're gradually building up a system to launch the armour stand across the room. Sure, they'll have to clean it all up later, but it passes the time and it makes them laugh. Hearing Xisuma laughing is good for all three of them, despite the roughness reminding them of last night's ordeal. It's safe to say that nobody envies Xisuma's experience.

The three jump at a strange, shrill noise, until the realisation kicks in. Zed is sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Hair is falling into his face, ruffled from sleep. Tango remains slumped against him. He even rolls into the warmth Zedaph leaves behind. It takes a few seconds until the hybrid notices his audience. Zedaph jumps, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, hi, sorry! Forgot I wasn't alone." His eyes are glowing brightly in the morning light. He looks down at the arm lazily clinging to his waist. "This oaf is used to it."

"No, no, you're okay," Xisuma tells him. False is stirring beside him, blinking to life, but Keralis remains out. "How are you feeling?" Zedaph taps his chin, resting his finger on his lip.

"Pretty well-rested, actually." Then his attention turns to Xisuma. "What about you? I should be asking you that question!" Xisuma laughs, flexing his fingers against his helmet.

"I'm okay. Taking it easy." He tilts his head towards Grian and Iskall. "Whether I like it or not, it seems."

"Too right," False agrees, yawning. "T'others can handle admin duties for today. You're ours."

"Is that a threat?"

"We can make it one!" Iskall tells him, his voice a lot more cheerful than the implication of his words. "We just need a good leash-"

"Oh absolutely not! Don't you dare!" Keralis pokes his head up next to him, trying to tune into the conversation. Zedaph laughs from across the room. He's tugging a bleary Tango to rest on his shoulder so he can wrap the blanket around them both.

"Oh come on, X, it'll be fun!" Grian wraps his arms around Iskall's shoulders. Xisuma shakes his head.

"You two are terrible. Absolutely terrible. Goodness me."

"I'm sure X will agree to take a day off willingly," False says, sounding far too threatening as she rubs sleep from her eyes.

"I already agreed. No leash required!"

"Why are we talking about leashes?" Keralis finally asks, looking more confused than anything. They break down into laughter.

[Grian] hello everyone

[iskall85] HALLO!

[iskall85] we are stealing your admin for the day!

[Grian] yeah he's ours.

[falsesymmetry] x had a rough night so he's having a day off

[falsesymmetry] so if any admins besides tango, x and i could step up please?

[cubfan135] yeah I'm on it.

[joehillssays] of course, and send our well wishes to our dear admin!

[Xisuma] your dear admin thanks you :-)

[Xisuma] please try not to break anything

[Etho] have a fun day lol

[joehillssays] don't make us lock you out of your screens, x!

[Keralis1] Nothing will get past us.

[iskall85] he's been suitably threatened.

[Renthedog] Should uh... We be concerned?

[Grian] about x-i-sooma finally getting a break?

[falsesymmetry] he's in safe hands. promise.

"Should we get this day started?" Tango asks. Grian is about to answer, only to yawn. He covers his mouth, face turning red.

"Another hour of sleep first?" False suggests. They look around the room, everyone in varying states of awareness.

"It never hurt anyone." Iskall shoves Mumbo over, fitting into bed beside him. "See y'all in an hour." Keralis smiles at Xisuma. He bumps their heads together.

"You deserve a break without being traumatised first, you know that Shishwamy?" He checks. Xisuma laughs, pressing their foreheads together.

"Yeah, I know." He leans back. "And I think I've got some good friends to remind me." False pats his back, getting comfortable enough to doze off again.

"And don't you forget it." Xisuma looks around the room. The architechs are fighting over the bed, Tango and Zedaph curled back up on theirs. He smiles, the fear from last night already on its way to being a distant memory.

"Don't think I can."

#hermitcraft #xisuma #falsesymmetry #keralis #grian #iskall85 #tangotek #zedaph #feel like mumbo's role is too minor to tag him lmao #my writing #this fic took so loooong #but i wanted to get it done #more brain space for my other projects

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thelionbyname · 3 years

Text

Together We Are One (Prequel part 11, Final)

(Hello everyone :) So sorry for the huge gap between posts, I just moved back to my home country, so there wasn’t a lot of time for me to write. I also knew this was going to be the final part in this story, and I didn’t want it to be over. But I may write another Hermitcraft fanfic soon. Because this is the final, it is quite a bit longer than usual, hope you don’t mind. Enjoy!)

As soon as Grian landed beside him, Mumbo pelted him with questions. “Are you okay? Who was that? What happened to him? I’m sorry I was no help, I couldn’t climb down the tree fast enough…”

“That’s all right Mumbo, I don’t blame you. I’m fine, a few scratches and bruises, but otherwise unharmed,” Grian assured him.

“Who is he, though? You must know him, or at least, he knows you, or he wouldn’t have attacked out of the blue like that.”

Grian shrugged and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. “I don’t know, Mumbo. He looked at me like he knew me, but I’ve never seen him before. If I had, I would remember.”

Mumbo nodded thoughtfully. They decided they should probably tell Xisuma what happened; perhaps he knew more. They found the other hermits still sitting on the side of the road, Tango, Xisuma and Keralis trying to convince False to start singing again.

“False can sing?” Grian asked, surprised. He momentarily forgot what he came to them for.

“Right, yeah! You and Mumbo haven’t heard it! She’s phenomenal!” Tango told him. His crimson eyes sparkled, but then he clenched his fist behind his back and his smile faded. It looked to Xisuma like he was punishing himself for something. He pushed the thought aside for now.

“Yeah, Falsie sang in Argentina, and she really is incredible.” X agreed.

“I need to hear this!” Mumbo said excitedly.

“You know what, guys? When this is all over, I’ll sing for everyone and get us into the new year.” False decided.

Everyone smiled triumphantly. They continued to chat about other things, until Grian remembered what he came to tell them.

“Wait, guys. There was something I was trying to tell you before, but I forgot. A man attacked me when Mumbo and I were over yonder. I don’t know him, but we figured he must know us to have any reason to attack me. I was wondering if you guys knew anything about that.” Grian said to all of them, but facing Xisuma. He figured that if anyone knew, Xisuma would. He knew everything regarding the hermits.

“What did this man look like, Grian?” Xisuma asked him.

“Um… quite a handsome man, olive skin, but bloodshot eyes. He had a long scar along his right cheek.” Everyone except Mumbo gasped at his description. “What?” Grian asked, confused. He glanced at Mumbo, who shrugged, feeling just as out of the loop as Grian.

Xisuma was the one who responded. “Remember that night in the other world, when Tango and Keralis were held hostage, Tango died, and you two had to capture a bunch of people?”

Mumbo and Grian nodded, starting to understand.

“The man that attacked us back then matched that exact description. Malus.”

They recognised the name from the recount the others had given them after the fight. Their eyes widened in surprise.

“I assume your fight led to him being thrown into the black hole? It would explain how he got in that world.” Xisuma guessed correctly.

Grian nodded.

“No point dwelling on it, there’s nothing we can do about it, and we shouldn’t mess with the past anyway.” Keralis said, looking at Grian, knowing the latter would beat himself up over bringing the dangerous man to the other world for many nights to come if wasn’t reassured. Keralis knew Grian would blame himself for Tango’s temporary death, once he connected the dots.

Grian smiled at Keralis gratefully, aware of what he was doing. Keralis smiled back.

At that moment, light returned to the road up ahead; the black hole had closed.

Everyone hurried back to the taxis, this time not fussing over who sat where, so Tango ended up next to False, with Xisuma in the passenger’s seat.

Xisuma motioned for the driver to continue, and looked via the rearview mirror at the two in the back. Tango was sitting very stiffly, arms on his lap, like he really didn’t want to come in contact with anything.

...Or anyone…

Before Xisuma could dwell on that realisation, Tango noticed him watching, and looked in his eyes through the mirror. Tango blushed slightly from the embarrassment of being watched, and looked away. Nobody talked for the rest of the trip.

At some point during the drive, Tango sensed the other hermit’s minds. He could only really feel their aura, not their thoughts, but if Cleo was paying attention, she would feel them nearby too. Though to be fair, they were probably still recovering from the black hole and watching the six of them get sucked through, so it was unlikely that she was paying attention.

Then, suddenly, Tango felt an overwhelming wave of emotion. Pain, sadness, loss. This grief came from someone else’s mind, and he immediately recognised the aura. It was Impulse.

“Stop! Stop the car!” Tango shouted. He needed to get to Impulse, now.

The startled taxi driver hit the brakes, and Tango jumped out. He couldn’t bear the pain that wasn’t even his own, it was too much to know what his best friend was going through.

He sprinted in the direction of all the presences, but there was still a long way to go. The reach on his telepathy was quite far, so he felt the hermits far before he was anywhere near them. Then Xisuma was next to him. Without a word, he super-speed-ran all the way to the Hermits, taking Tango with him.

They stopped behind a few trees that hadn’t been torn from the earth, a few meters from the hermits, and Xisuma let go of Tango. Tango immediately ran through the group gathered around a single person, curled up in a ball of dread, arms wrapped around his legs, trying to protect himself from pain that came only from within.

“Impulse!” Tango screamed as he pushed his way through the mass of people.

Impulse, the one on the ground, just shook his head and whimpered, rocking back and forth. He mumbled to himself, “That’s not Tango, he’s gone, he’s never coming back.” And he let out a scream.

But then comforting arms wrapped around him, and the same voice that had called his name whispered, “Impulse, it’s all right, it’s me, I’m okay.”

Something in Impulse’s heart mended, a hole sealed. Even though it went against everything he just saw, Impulse wanted to believe him. And he did.

There’s some strange connection that forms in friendships such as these, and when your best friend is nearby, you just know, even when every logical part of your brain says it’s not possible.

Impulse carefully raised his head, and looked directly into his favorite pair of blood-red eyes. And as the final cracks in his heart and soul mended, miraculously, Impulse smiled.

“Tango! You’re alive!” he yelled, and despite himself, giggled with relief. “Wh- how? I saw you die!”

“You didn’t see me die, you saw me vanish into the black hole,” Tango corrected him. “It wasn’t deadly. Long story short, it led to another world, we traveled back in time, and now we’re home!”

“We? Where are the others? Did they make it?” A new expression of worry clouded his chocolate eyes.

“Yes, they-” before Tango could finish his sentence, someone else jumped playfully on top of both of them, knocking both of them over, and embracing them.

“Zed!” Tango laughed, and hugged him back. Then he smiled again, to himself. I’m back with my family.

All the hermits gathered around them just stood, some confused, most just watching the trio’s heartwarming happiness. Xisuma had not yet emerged from the trees, trying to get everything together and prepare to see all the people he was closest to in the world, after all those years. He didn’t quite dare to believe it, and once he’d laid eyes on them all, he stood frozen. Xisuma had always been the sensible and logically thinking one in the group, their leader of sorts. But now he was just afraid of it all being a dream, and he was terrified of getting his hopes up.

He stood there, numb but scared, between the trees, and watched team ZIT wrestle and roll around playfully. But then Cleo, having sensed him telepathically, and noticing his hesitation, came towards him.

“Xisuma, it’s okay. It’s really us. I know how you feel,”-she gestured at her head- “obviously, but you don’t have to worry that it’s all a dream”. Xisuma didn’t move. “You’re making me do this,” she said, and in one movement, twisted his arm behind his back and forced him to the ground.

“Ow! What was that for?” Xisuma demanded, coming to his senses.

“Could you have dreamt that?” Cleo asked, releasing him.

“I suppose not…”

“Good. Come join us. Where are Grian and the rest? The ones who went with you?”

“They took the taxi. They should be here soon.”

“Taxi? From where- you know what, tell everyone the whole story later. I’m just glad you’re all alive”.

“Me too.”

They joined the people still huddled around the now again-hugging team ZIT, and once people saw Xisuma, he was embraced by at least ten different hermits.

Just then, two taxis appeared at the end of the street, and Grian and Mumbo tumbled right out. They jumped to their feet as False and Keralis stepped out a bit more gracefully, but all four of them sprinted over to their friends. Everybody was hugging everybody.

“Bubbles!!” Keralis yelled, peering over the many heads in search of the little fella. And he was tackled to the ground and embraced tightly by bdubs.”Bubbles!” Keralis said again, happily.

But then Grian caught sight of team ZIT, still lying on the ground in the middle of the crowd. “Group hug!!” he shouted, and flopped on top of them, Mumbo right behind him.

Impulse grinned. “Hey G! Welcome back!”

Then another body added itself to the pile of happiness. Scar threw his arms around Grian and giggled in a way only he could. Then Iskall threw himself on top of Mumbo. After that, the rest followed, one by one, until all twentyfour of them were one big pile of pure euphoria. Even Jellie perched on top.

They could have remained like that for hours, just soaking up each other’s warmth and friendship, but eventually Zedaph said, “Um, I know we’re all very happy, but perhaps Impulse and Tango would like to breathe. I wouldn’t mind some fresh air either, actually.”

Everyone laughed and started gently trying to disentangle themselves from the heap of limbs. Before they could all disengage, however, two more young women showed up and just stood watching them, confusion on their faces, but also an expression that said, ‘yeah, seems about right’.

“Uh… Hi! I thought this was a New Year’s party?” one of them asked in her Australian accent.

At this, someone deep within the pile somehow jumped up, throwing all the hermits off him. Grian attempted to flatten his now messy hair with one hand, while he waved at the girls with the other. “Pearl! Right! I forgot I invited you… years ago.”

“Ehm… I’ll ask later. Is it still okay that we’re here? Oh yeah, I hope you don’t mind, I brought a plus one. This is Gem.” Said Pearl, gesturing at the woman beside her.

In a voice a hundred times sweeter than candyfloss, Gem said, “Nice to meet you all. You must be Grian, judging by the chaos around you.” This was met with welcoming laughter from all around.

Pearl and Gem helped everyone out of the mess of bodies, and then everyone- some skipping, some running, some just walking- went back to the ballroom where, a few hours or a few years ago, depending on who you asked, everyone was dancing, not a care in the world. Grian flew through the open doors and looked around at the place he had always continued to call home, with every day that had passed in the other timeline.

As he flew around, Mumbo and Iskall jumped up to reach him and each grabbed hold of one of his legs, pulling him down. “Come back down to earth, Grian!” Mumbo joked.

“Yeah, get your head out of the clouds,” Iskall added, laughing his contagious Swedish laugh.

Grian allowed his friends to pull him down, and hugged them again. “I love you guys.”

A few minutes later, it was as if no time had passed. Everyone stood around the room in little groups, chatting, while the big clock on one wall ticked off the minutes until the new millennium began.

Team ZIT stood around the same high table as they had before everything happened. They were talking about all sorts of things, but not the one thing everyone was wondering about. They had decided that was a story best told when everyone was together and listening, so all six time travelers could talk about it together.

“Oh, by the way, did you know False speaks Spanish?” Tango asked his two best friends.

“What? No way!” Impulse said in disbelief.

“Of course she does. That sounds like something she’d secretly know.” Zed grinned.

Their conversation was interrupted when False came over to their table.

“Hey Tango, wanna dance like we did in Argentina?” she asked with a smile, not knowing how pained that made him feel.

But he didn’t want to disappoint her, so he said, “Can you give me a few minutes?”

She nodded and slipped back into the sea of people.

“Tango, are you okay?” Zedaph asked, watching the way his friend stared after her.

Impulse saw it too, and had also noticed the flicker of hurt in Tango’s crimson eyes when she asked him to dance.

“I don’t know what happened in Argentina, or how in the world you even got to Argentina, but something changed, Tango, and it’s hurting you. We don’t want to see you hurt.” Zedaph told him.

Tango tore his gaze away from where False had disappeared between the mass of bodies, and turned back to face him. “I- I think I’m in love with her, guys. But I don’t want to be, I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or make things awkward with the rest of the hermits.” Tango confessed.

Impulse nodded, he’d suspected something like that. Zedaph looked surprised but understanding, and asked, “Have you talked to her? Maybe if you just told her how you feel, you can get it off your chest. It might be awkward for a bit, but you’re both mature...ish, your friendship will survive.”

“I think Zed is right. Maybe you should just confess.” Impulse concurred.

Tango sighed. “I guess it’s worth a shot. I don’t want to live like this.” And with that, he trudged to the dancefloor, where False was waiting for him. But when he put his hand on her waist, his mental connection with her seemed to become more focused, and narrowed down from his general view of all hermits’ thoughts, to only her’s. He felt her every emotion with every fibre of his being, and while that may seem romantic, it had the opposite effect. He felt everything she felt towards him, which was pure friendship and platonic love. And as he felt that, all his romantic notions seemed to melt away. He valued their friendship more than anything, and didn’t believe in lost causes anyway. He knew how she felt, and now he felt that way too. And he was grateful for it.

They tango’d into the final five minutes before the clock struck twelve, and Tango happily led. They were already warm from the wild movements when Xisuma approached them. “Two things. One, Falsie, were you going to sing us into the New Year?” he asked.

Tango and False stopped dancing to face him. “Yes, I’ll head to the stage.” False confirmed.

“Hold on. The second thing was that I was just talking to Stress, who was watching you dance, along with the rest of the hermits, I might add, and she mentioned the year the tango was invented.” He paused, looking at them meaningfully. “1880.”

False and Tango glanced at each other. “That was the year we went to in the time machine.” Tango said, realising. “Do you think we-?”

“I think we did!” False said, laughing.

Xisuma smiled. “Now you can sing, Falsie.”

And sing she did. Even more beautifully than in Argentina, over a century ago. She sang them all the way into the New Year, and everything was as it should be. As Xisuma watched Tango watching False, he saw no sign of his strange behaviour from earlier. He smiled to himself. Whatever had been going on with Tango, he was alright now. And the two of them, along with the rest of their family, shouted, “Happy New Year!”

THE END

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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TUA DANCE SCHOOL AU

(but also like there's murder in here because it's still Umbrella Academy so...)

(BEWARE: mentions of abuse and harassment, murder, kidnapping, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Ballet, Hip-Hop) Diego came to this school for Eudora, and he’s staying here for Eudora. She’s his beloved adopted sister, and the one who told him he should pursue his passions in hip-hop… and ballet, but Diego’s not interested in telling anyone that bit yet. He’s only gonna be here a year anyway, just long enough for Eudora to win her way onto the women’s US national soccer team and earn enough money for the both of them to live worry-free for the rest of their lives. He’s not planning on making friends… until one of the dancers in his ballet class trips into his chest and Diego starts questioning whether love at first sight is a thing.

(Ballet) Klaus is top of his class in ballet, which is the only reason they haven’t kicked him out yet. He’s addicted to some hard shit; he’s sold himself for money; he’s living with his abusive boyfriend who he hasn’t loved in three years because if he wasn’t he’d be homeless. He knows he’d be fine if he just told Five what was happening to him, because Five is a thirteen-year-old runaway genius living in a studio apartment big enough for three, but Klaus doesn’t know how to bring it up. He knows he’s a mess - he’s got serious PTSD, anxiety, and depression from his few months in the army where his boyfriend he actually loved was killed in front of him, and he’s got anorexia because he’s a ballerina so of course he does, and he’s probably suicidal if he thinks about it too hard. But he just doesn’t want to deal with it. At all. But then there’s Diego. Sweet, innocent, hero-like Diego. And Klaus loves him. Klaus doesn’t love anything, but, fuck - Klaus loves Diego.

(Ballet, Break Dance, Hip-Hop, Tango) Five is a killer. You can laugh, it’s okay - everybody does when he says that, as if it’s a joke. Five’s alright with that. He has more to lose from them finding out about his habits than he does from actually doing it. It’s not like he can get caught - he’s killed detectives and cops too, and he’s very good at covering his tracks. Next on his list is Klaus’ boyfriend, who’s a piece of shit. He’ll bring Klaus home with him, and keep him safe. Five may not be loyal to many, but those he is will die of nothing but natural causes. He has access to things you can only dream of. All of his dance classes double for training; dance is a good segway to fighting techniques. The only trouble is Diego, who Five loves, who Klaus loves, who is well and true and good… who looks far too much like that vigilante who travels around after hours saving Five’s victims before they’re done bleeding out.

(Flamenco, Hula, Hip-Hop) Allison is undercover, and ready to be done with this shit. She knows Five’s guilty, and knows he knows she knows he’s guilty, and knows that if he wanted her dead she would be by now. She’s worried about his intentions towards Diego, but Five seems to have instead set his sights on Klaus’ boyfriend, who Allison can’t honestly say she’ll be sad to see go. So Allison won’t be bringing Five in - at least not yet. Instead, she focuses her efforts on her dance classes, hanging out mostly with her best friends Klaus and Ray, the latter of whom she has a crush on. And she’d make a move, too, if it weren’t for that stupidly hot and kind himbo she keeps passing in the hallways and cursing at.

(Jock, Break Dance) Luther doesn’t fit in here. Everyone here is so fucking talented, and Luther just… isn’t. Break dancing is just a hobby to him, but dance seems like life or death to everybody else. He’s starting to think maybe he should just quit, but then he sees Allison in the hallways, and thinks maybe all the ridicule is worth it. Though his petty fights with that Diego kid are getting annoying… and there’s something unexplainably sinister about this school. Almost like it’s… he doesn’t know. Sometimes it’s almost like it’s not a school at all.

(Choreographer, Contemporary) Ben is one of the school’s choreographers, though he’s still a student. He knows everything about everyone, and uses that power carefully. This school is going to fucking hell, what with all the criminals scheming under its roof, but none of them are Ben’s first concern, loathe as he is to admit it. No no, Ben is worried about Klaus. His best friend, Klaus. His beloved brother Klaus. His abused, sick, sad, scared, suicidal brother. God. Here’s the thing - Ben will do anything to save Klaus. Anything. Even, he knows with some sort of horrible inevitable certainty, die.

(Violinist) Vanya plays violin for the dance students to perform to. Her teacher Leonard is harassing her and she’s probably gonna end up his invisible victim one of these days, since nobody seems to care about her here. Except for Sissy, the student volunteer secretary who’s attending a normal college across the way. She and Vanya are in love, and they’ve moved in together and Sissy proposed to Vanya last week and Vanya thinks they’re maybe gonna be happy together forever. And then Five, Vanya’s only sort-of friend, climbs through her window at two in the morning covered in blood, passing out with only the words, Sorry. It’s not mine. Vanya screams, and it’s all downhill from there.

(Tango, Waltz, Ballroom) Ray is undercover with Allison, but she seems uninterested in bringing Five to justice. Not that Ray minds - she’s a pretty good judge of character, and Ray trusts her with his life, even if she seems to be hellbent on letting a serial killer go free. Ray’s also found an oddly fulfilling friendship with Klaus, and vows to make sure he gets his happy ending with Diego. But then he finds Ben’s bloody and beaten body in the second floor bathroom after class one day and thinks, Oh. Shit.

(Ballet, Break Dance, Tango) Lila is in the know. The Handler wants someone to combat Five, who went rogue on her a year ago and only sticks around this stupid school to keep an eye on Klaus. Lila, meanwhile, is looking for a way out - Five’s not an option. He’s too sticky. But Eudora, that soccer star at the school across the street, her best friend Diego’s sister… Eudora’s a way out. (And she’s really fucking pretty too, but that’s unrelated.)

(Jock, Hip-Hop) Eudora has this weird feeling about the school she sent Diego too. If she’s being honest, she sent him there because she knows about his vigilante-ism and thought it’d give him something else to do. But when Eudora comes to visit him (and yes, maybe Lila with the eyeliner and pretty skin), she instead finds her brother’s crush tied up in the basement and screaming. And then there’s a gunshot. And then there’s nothing.

(Ballet I Guess) Dolores is the statue formally known as the “Little Dancer of Fourteen Years”. She’s at the museum right near the dance school, and Five visits her nearly every day, talking to her about any and everything. Sometimes Klaus comes with him, or Diego. Five doesn’t know why she’s important - she just is.

(Orchestra & Flamenco Teacher) Leonard is the creepy and perverted orchestra and flamenco teacher. Allison hates him on sight, but loves dancing, and can’t leave. Vanya doesn’t trust him, and he seems hellbent on treating her inappropriately, and Allison wants to fucking throttle him. But she’s sure Five will take care of it. He’s good like that.

(Ballroom Teacher) Hazel teaches ballroom dancing, and has been married to Agnes for almost twenty years now. His best friend and partner is Cha-Cha, and they both secretly work for the Handler, having been given their orders to dismantle Five. They know they’ll have to make him come to them, so they take Five’s favorite person: Klaus. It’s really such a shame that Ben boy found out what was going on and confronted them - he was far too polite to die.

(Break Dance & Hip-Hop Teacher) Cha-Cha probably wants to leave the Umbrella Academy, if she’s really honest with herself. She wants to… I don’t know, buy a boat and fuck off forever. Leave all this stupid shit behind. But now she’s got Ben’s blood on her hands and she can’t undo that, she can’t, and there’s - there’s Eudora, sweet, brave, innocent Eudora, bleeding out on the basement floor while Klaus screams. And Cha-Cha knows Diego - she’s just dug her own grave twice over.

(Ballet & Hula Teacher) Agnes is, on the contrary to most people’s expectations, not an oblivious idiot. She knows exactly what’s going on in her school. She also knows her students can handle themselves.

(First Dean, Tango Teacher) The Handler thinks she’s got all her secrets well under wraps. No one knows how many bodies she’s buried, how many students she’s killed… she’s safe from everyone but Five, the little bitch. And she thinks this up until the moment Klaus walks through her office door with a gun in his hand and the smiling ghost of Ben beside him, and realizes, Oh shit.

(Second Dean, Waltz Teacher) Reginald gives no fucks. He’s only teaching here because Pogo says it would be good for him. Granted Reginald thinks Pogo is a bit of an annoying wussy, but nonetheless he’s here. Teaching “secret” assassins how to dance. What a fucking joke.

(Counselor) Grace is everybody’s favorite person. When the school finally falls, she’s the one they all go home to. She only wishes they could learn how to dance without weapons beneath their skirts.

This turned out way darker than I intended and I am not sorry.

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 5 years

Note

I heard you were looking for some fic prompts and uhh maybe an alternative ending where Avery doesn’t show up and pat asks pen to dance with him

Thanks for this prompt, anon! It took 3 viewings of the new season and 4 days for me to process my feelings about it before I could write my first S3 fic, but this turned out really fun.

Penelope x Schneider, One Day At A Time. Also on AO3.

[italicized portion taken directly from the scene in episode 3.13]

Penelope waved Schneider over to her table, aiming a sad face at him that didn’t quite reach the level of his. “Are you okay?”

He hunched over the table a little. “Oh, no, I’m all kinds of messed up. You?”

“Seeing that father-daughter dance really made me happy, but if one more person tells me, ‘You’ll find someone,’ I’m setting off the sprinklers, and we’re gonna see who has extensions real quick.”

Nudging Schneider with her elbow got him to laugh a little, and she was still smiling as his faded.

He sighed. “I can’t get over Avery. I had a magical angel woman who wanted a future with me, and I screwed it up.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m sorry. A wedding probably isn’t the best place for me right now.”

“Well, I’m glad you came. Otherwise, I’d be the only single loser here, so…”

Penelope sipped her drink and offered Schneider her most winning smile, still hoping she could draw him out of his funk. “So, the supermodel. Not even a little spark?”

“No.” He hung his head. “I think I’m over meaningless attraction, Pen. After Avery…I don’t know, what if she was my best chance at a real future with someone?”

“She’s the first person you’ve tried to have an actual relationship with,” Penelope pointed out. “It’s a little soon to decide it’s all over for you.”

She glanced at the dance floor, where the Chicken Dance seemed like it might never end. “But the part where you want more than just a fling? That could be a good thing, Schneider. It’s about time you opened yourself up to dating like an adult–I would hate to see you throw that progress away just because you’re hurting.”

Schneider sighed again. “Eh, well. Enough about me. You’re at Victor’s wedding, that’s gotta be weird.”

“You are not wrong.” Penelope couldn’t help but laugh when she caught her mother stealing the dance floor with her flapping arms, Dr. B flapping along from a distance.

“Then again,” she added, “what isn’t weird lately?”

“Good point.”

The manic music finally died down, gliding into a slow song as couples pulled each other close. Her Mami found a stray man to pair off with, leaving Dr. Berkowitz standing alone before other dancers blocked them from Penelope’s view.

“I am happy for Victor,” she assured Schneider, her smile fading. “But of all the times not to have a date…”

“I hear ya. Sorry about Mateo, by the way. With everything, I don’t think I said that yet.”

“It’s fine.” Penelope shrugged. “He deserved somebody who was a really good fit.”

“So do you.”

Schneider smiled at her. “And in the meantime, how about this wedding’s two single losers cut a rug?”

“Huh?” .

“We shouldn’t be stuck moping here all night.” He stood, reaching for her hand. “Let’s dance, Pen.”

His grin caught her off guard. Rapidly shifting moods worried her these days just as much as seeing Schneider in a funk. His relapse had shaken their friendship, and they were still slowly building it back up again.

But compared to being depressed over Avery, at least at the moment he was smiling. That was reason enough for Penelope to follow him to the dance floor and rest one hand on his shoulder while he kept hold of the other.

“You look really nice,” Schneider said as they began to move.

“Thanks, Schneider. I guess that’s something, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

She caught one of Victor’s cousins watching her and shook her head. “Oh, you know. Everybody here is ready to throw me a pity party. And I’m fine!”

He blinked. “Of course you are, Penelope. You’re rocking at this whole life thing.”

“It’s just so frustrating. I could find someone in a heartbeat. I have absolutely no trouble finding someone.”

“Well, if I know that’s true, and you know that’s true…then why is it bothering you so much?”

Schneider shifted a little closer as they turned in a slow circle, and she closed her eyes, trying to relax. “I don’t know. It’s just bugging me.”

“Okay.”

He was quiet after that, and she focused on the feel of his hand in hers, the warmth of his fingers pressing into her waist. It was strange, wasn’t it, that they’d never danced together like this before?

Sure, he’d joined her for a couple of dances at Elena’s quinces, mostly because he was too cheerful about it for her to tell him no without feeling like a total jerk. But those had been fast songs, and friendly dances. There was absolutely no touching involved.

And at the school dance they’d both chaperoned, he’d danced with her Mami after he and Nikki broke up, the two of them salsaing whether the music called for it or not. It had made her smile even while her mind was worrying over Max’s words. But because there was Max, it would never have occurred to her to dance with Schneider.

What a difference a year made.

“I’m not sure I can keep a man,” Penelope blurted out, making Schneider’s footsteps falter for a second before he glided her back into a waltz.

“What are you talking about?”

“All those people telling me I’ll find someone someday, I know they don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m really good at finding someone. And they’re all great guys.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Schneider’s face got that slightly starstruck look that returned whenever he thought about Max, and she rolled her eyes.

“So, you know…I can get a man. I’m just not so good at keeping them. No matter how great they are on paper, I can’t make it work. A relationship isn’t everything–it’s not even at the top of my bucket list right now. But it really sucks anyway, not being good at them.”

He stopped dancing, stepping back with her hand still gripped in his. “Hey, hey. Who says you’re not good at relationships?”

Penelope glanced over her shoulder. “Well, Tia Pity over there, for starters. And all the other people who look at me and see a failure just because my marriage didn’t work out.”

“Your marriage ending was not your fault,” Schneider insisted, his voice low among the crowd. “You’re not responsible for Victor’s choices, Penelope. You had kids to think about.”

“And I didn’t fight for Max,” she continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. “I gave Mateo so little of my attention we were barely dating even while we were dating. I know it takes two people to make a relationship work, but I’m not blameless. Those women clicking their tongues sympathetically at me tonight, they have a point. I might never find somebody to spend my life with.”

He shook his head and pulled her close. “Come here.”

Once she was dancing with him again, her face almost resting against his chest, Schneider continued.

“You’re talking to the guy who ruined the only good thing he had going for him,” he said. “I’m officially an expert on being bad at relationships–and I’ve only had one, so you have to admit that’s impressive.”

“Schneider…”

Penelope tipped her head up to look at him, their eyes meeting as the song ended.

He leaned back, letting go of her hand. “Thanks for the dance.”

She stepped forward, closing in on his space again. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished.”

Schneider’s forehead wrinkled to match his confused tone. “We’re not?”

“No, dummy. Who else am I gonna dance with if you leave me stranded here?”

Still bewildered, he let Penelope’s fingers wrap around his, his other hand resting on her hip this time. The new music was slower; they swayed along with it while she bit her bottom lip and chose her next words carefully.

“What you just said about Avery, that’s crap.”

“Penelope–”

“I mean it. You were going through a hard time, harder than you have in years. You don’t have a special talent for ruining relationships just because that one ended. Because in case you hadn’t noticed, this right here? Is a relationship too. Not like you and Avery, but still going strong after years of up and downs. And so are your relationships with my Mami, and Elena and Alex. So stop telling yourself she was the only good thing, okay? It’s not true.”

His hand squeezed hers while she settled against him, deciding the time for formalities was over.

“You’re right,” Schneider murmured. “I’m sorry. You and your family…you guys are the best thing. You always have been. It’s just harder now.”

“What is?”

He was silent for so long, she thought he might not answer the question.

“Hoping,” Schneider finally said, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“Right.” She nodded, curls tickling his face. “I get that. But, Schneider?”

“Yeah?”

“We were there, through all of it. We’re still here. If it hurts too much to hope yet, maybe try trusting that instead. You have us.”

She smiled against his lapel. “And if we can make it through the worst with you, then there’s totally a woman out there who could too. One just as special as Avery. You’ll find her.”

“Well, if that’s true, then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Because you’ll be too busy to keep barging in at all hours?” She teased.

“No,” he replied, not joking at all. “Because if there really is someone out there for me, then you’re definitely going to find love again, Penelope. The kind that lasts.”

Schneider’s hands slid to the small of her back as the second song became a third, neither of them moving to end the dance.

“You think so, huh?”

“I know it,” he insisted, his eyes clearing for the first time all night. “It might not be at the top of your list, but it’ll happen. Nobody deserves it more than you.”

Penelope was still trying to figure out what to say to that when Schneider dipped her, grinning before he pulled her back into him and led her into a salsa.

She saw her Mami tango by with Dr. Berkowitz, no more concerned than Schneider about how they stood out from the crowd, and gave in.

It was her ex-husband’s wedding, after all. She knew before she came that she wouldn’t be having a fabulous time. She couldn’t even make his friends and family stop looking at her like she was doomed to die alone.

But no matter what they thought, she wasn’t alone.

Schneider was throwing goofy flourishes into his dance moves, singing off-key along with the music, his hands warm where they gripped her hips.

Maybe they were both bad at relationships. Maybe they would both be single for the next thirty years.

Whatever the future held, Penelope had better things to do than worry about it right then.

She would rather salsa.

#alvareider #one day at a time #odaat #penelope alvarez #schneider #schneider x penelope #penelope x schneider #alvareider fic #alvareider fanfic #odaat fanfic #odaat fic #spoilers #my fic #anons are love #penelope and schneider

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golden-van-fleet · 5 years

Text

I’ll Cover You

Summary: You and Joe met during a revival of Rent on Broadway.

Word Count: 2833

A/N: This was entirely based on a conversation I had with @starfleet-wannabe last night. We really love Joe, it’s almost unhealthy. This is easily readable if you haven’t seen Rent! Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing

You’d seen him before, tucked away into corners or in the middle of a crowd of people dancing in unison. You knew his name, and that he was no stranger to the stage. You didn’t know how you’d managed to find yourself on stage with him, sharing the spotlight in a revival of Rent on Broadway.

Joe Mazzello was Mark, the nerdy and shy filmmaker, engrossed in documenting the life of his fellow broke New Yorkers during the HIV/AIDS crisis. Joe fit right in with the East Village cast, his own passion for filmmaking playing a heavy role in his interest in his character. It was what made his character so like him, but Mark’s timidness was what made Joe so lovable, on and off stage.

You were Maureen Johnson. Loud. Passionate. Mark’s ex, current lover of Joanne. It was so unlike you, you couldn’t help but think during the casting process. Maureen was hellbent on getting her production to a stage, so dramatic and yet, not as unlike you as you’d once thought. She had ambition, a drive about her that mirrored your own. You’d fought hard to get to where you were, a feat you were inexplicably proud of.

For someone who claimed they couldn’t dance very well, Joe couldn’t help but watch you during rehearsals for “Tango: Maureen”. The song highlighted the tension in Maureen’s relationships as she flirted shamelessly with men and women alike. Mark and Joanne were furious, but Joe was captivated. Maureen was sexy, confident, and fierce, and it all but oozed from you as you sauntered across the stage, commanding the attention of all men and women- on stage and off.

In between rehearsals, Joe made a point to talk to you about whatever he could. You were fascinating to him, so like him and yet so different. You appreciated his efforts, his warm and inviting nature drawing you closer to him. Every day you woke up excited to work with him, and every night you went home and couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

As opening night drew nearer, you noticed that your relationship with Joe got more and more personal. Strictly professional, of course, but friendly nonetheless. He’d complimented you after a grueling dress rehearsal, leaving out the part about how long he’d wanted to say something about your performance. The director had been particularly harsh that day, which was expected, but so unnecessarily frustrating it made you wonder if the show was worth it. Joe was always there to cheer you up after a difficult day and was the one person you were most thankful for during the run of the show.

“You were absolutely phenomenal in that last run. I mean, you always are,” he corrected himself quickly, his nerves overcoming him. He was talking to you, not Maureen. He didn’t need to be nervous, but you looked so good in your costume, he wasn’t sure he could contain himself. It wasn’t anything spectacular by your standards, but to him, it was everything.

“Really? Thank you,” you said, smiling warmly at the man who was sweating bullets. “I was a bit nervous about the changes they made yesterday. Totally thought I was going to blow straight through them,” you admitted, leading the two of you off the stage and into the wings.

“If you did, I couldn’t tell,” Joe whispered, forced to lean closer to you to be heard. You weren’t supposed to talk in the wings, but with someone as captivating as Joe, you were willing to make a few exceptions. “That whole cow bit is fantastic. It’s my favorite part of the show.” Ah, yes, the bit where you mime drinking Diet Coke straight from the… cow.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. The director called for the main cast to come out on stage, halting your conversation momentarily. You had every intention of continuing it the second you were given the opportunity.

“Seasons of Love, everybody! Places!”

Joe was stuck on the end, and you were almost dead center. Despite the row of people between you, lined up in a straight line across the front of the stage, Joe still managed to catch you out of the corner of his eye.

Your emotion was raw. “Seasons of Love” was the most emotionally moving song you’d ever performed, and it took almost too much out of you each performance. A year felt so long and so short at the same time, and the past year had been so difficult for you. You’d lost a lot, loved a lot, and learned a lot in the process. Tears welled in your eyes and streamed down your face from the second the song started until the lights faded at the end of the song.

“Y/N! That was incredible!” The director cheered, the entire cast facing you, sheepishly wiping tears off your cheeks. You hadn’t had a solo, those were for Joanne and Collins, so your best guess pointed to your reaction to the song. It moved the director to tears, something you hadn’t noticed until you met his eyes. “I think we can call that a wrap for today. Rest up tomorrow, and I’ll see you back on Monday!”

Joe was the first person you saw when you turned back towards the dressing rooms.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it all seem so effortless,” he said, almost exasperated.

“I channel as much pain into it as I can manage for the day and cry the rest into a glass of wine when I get home,” you deadpanned, picking up your bag. You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw Joe’s expression, concerned and helpless. “I’m kidding. This past year was so difficult for me, and I use that for this song. The rest of the show is just stepping out of my comfort zone and hoping I’ll make Idina Menzel proud.”

“I’m sure you already make her proud. I heard she’s coming opening night,” Joe shrugged, packing up his own things.

“Really?” You tried to curb your enthusiasm. Honestly. And to anyone else, knowing that the original actress both in the original cast on Broadway and in the film adaption of your current role would be in attendance would probably scare them shitless. But you were so excited, you knew that each Maureen would bring something different to the role, and you tried to avoid comparing yourself to her and the other actresses that came before you.

“Yeah, I think so, anyway. Hey, are you doing anything after this?” Joe asked, holding the door open for you as you left the theatre. His heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your answer.

“I was planning on going home and running through “Over the Moon” one more time, but that can hold off until later. What’d you have in mind?”

It was dark out, but both of you were illuminated by the lights so characteristically New York City that you couldn’t tell if his cheeks were pink because you were interested in his offer or because of the lights surrounding you.

“I was going to order takeout, but would you want to go get dinner with me? Not as a date,” he added quickly. Too quickly. It stung a little bit, hearing him shoot it down almost immediately. Your heart sank a little, but you put on a brave face before agreeing.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. Where did you have in mind?”

A couple blocks and about ten minutes later, you found yourself sat in front of Joe in an obnoxiously red leather booth in a tiny diner. It was so endearing it was sickening. It was like you dove headfirst into the setting of Grease. Which, by the way, Joe quickly found out was one of your favorite movies.

Joe sat with his chin in his hand, watching you speak with unwavering attention. Everything you said had such a passion behind it, your hands unconsciously gesticulating as you got more and more excited when you spoke. It was adorable.

It was then you realized that you really, really liked Joe. It was akin to a schoolgirl crush, the way his smile made your heart rate increase and when he spoke your name it was like only the two of you existed at that moment. You were crossing into the danger zone, and you knew it. Relationships between actors in the same show felt wrong, what with the cast being such a family, and they were advised against to avoid animosity when it came to breakups. But what would it hurt if you were just testing the waters?

Unbeknownst to you, Joe had already fallen into said waters headfirst. Hell, he’d drowned at this point. He knew it was a bad idea, he knew better, he knew to keep it professional. And he did the best he could, given the circumstances.

He tried to attribute the softness in your eyes to you being friendly. You tried to attribute his attentiveness to you to the way he was raised. You both tried your hardest to ignore the ache in your chest when you saw the other with someone else, sitting just slightly too close or smiling just a little too wide. It was a dirty little secret, sneaking glances when the other person wasn’t looking and returning them because, in reality, the other person was looking right back at them. It was flushed cheeks hidden under stage makeup, an appropriate metaphor for your relationship if you could call it that.

Opening night came and went off without a hitch. The cast met up for dinner following the show, a celebration to kick off the eight-month run with this same cast. Joe was glued to your hip the entire night, and you to his. Eight months felt like such a long time with the rest of the cast but didn’t feel like nearly enough time with Joe.

Mark and Maureen had the strained relationship of ex-lovers, while behind the scenes you and Joe had the strained relationship of something that was meant to come to fruition. Joe wished you good luck with a sincere “break a leg,” and a kiss to your cheek every night. You returned it, and you were the first person to congratulate him on a show well done in the wings with a tight hug, your arms thrown around his neck.

One night, one random Thursday night, the whole dynamic changed. Instead of his kiss landing on your cheek, you’d turned your head in surprise and his lips landed on the corner of your mouth. Instead of recoiling, as a best friend should have, you took his face in your hands and placed the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

“If you’re going to kiss someone good luck, you have to do it properly,” you mused, before making your way to the wings to start the show.

The entirety of the show that night was a blur, and although his performance was spectacular to everyone else in attendance, you knew why he was in the headspace he was in. You cursed yourself for it, retreating to your dressing room as quickly as you could before he could find you. Of course, he found you.

Three soft knocks on your dressing room door had your palms sweating and your heart rate rising. God, you’d outdone yourself this time. You’d really had to go and screw it all up, huh?

“Joe.”

“Y/N, what the fuck was that?” He was fuming. He’d fought so hard to keep himself from holding onto you too long, to keep himself from kissing you, to keep himself from daydreaming about you being his for too long to allow you to ruin his progress. He dreamt of waking up next to you and calling you his, it was all he wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have it. And that infuriated him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you, it was stupid and I wasn’t thinking, and I know it bothered you because I know you and I know how you act and you weren’t you tonight, you were just Mark, and, I’m sorry,” you rambled, tears starting to form. “I was selfish and didn’t take your feelings into consideration.”

“This is our job, Y/N.” He closed the door behind himself, closing off the world from your conversation. It reminded you of that night in the diner, now ages ago, and the stark contrast to it made you sick. “I had to tell myself that our relationship is strictly professional every night for the better half of a year now. I’ve wanted you since I saw you at the first rehearsals, and I want nothing more for you to be mine, but we can’t sacrifice our professionalism for it.”

“And you don’t think I’ve been telling myself the same thing? I know how you look at me because I look at you the same way. Every time you think I can’t see you staring? I feel you looking at me. So forgive me for compromising our professionalism when you’ve been right in front of me this whole time, sending me signals like a fifteen-year-old.” You seethed, angrily scrubbing what was left of your makeup off with a makeup wipe before turning back to face him.

He was stuck. Here you were, laying your heart on the line for something so taboo that you’d worked so hard to earn. You wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you.

“Fuck it,” he whispered, grabbing your face and pulling your lips to his. It wasn’t pretty. The first couple of seconds were all teeth and tongue before both of you relaxed into each other, finding a rhythm between you. You were the first to pull away, your forehead resting against his. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you mumbled, your thumb brushing against his bottom lip. “Looks like the rest of the world is just gonna have to get over it, huh?” You teased, as Joe cracked a small smile.

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

The cast saw it coming from the first day. You and Joe were inseparable from the start of dance rehearsals, as you’d had a number of scenes together and had to tango together in “Tango: Maureen”.

“Are they ever gonna admit to each other that they’re hopelessly in love with the other?” Claire, who played Joanne, whispered to Adam, who played Angel.

“Not until they admit it to themselves,” he snickered back, the two of them watching the two of you watch each other with the human equivalent of heart eyes. So when you finally came clean and admitted to being a couple, the rest of the cast told you it was about time.

You ended up being nominated for a Tony for your role in Rent. Joe assured you that you deserved the award, that you would walk away with it that night. He was right, of course.

“I found a lot of myself in Maureen,” you started, feeling like a fish out of water. You found Joe in the audience, his eyes shining with admiration. In him, you found your composure. “And I did everything I could to channel myself into her. To understand her. Everything I’ve done up until now has led me to this. This is beyond my wildest dreams, and I want to thank my wonderful director and co-stars for creating such a nurturing and loving environment from which we could all grow. And to Joe, this award is just as much mine as it is yours. I have you to thank for the motivation to continue on. I love you.”

You walked off stage before realizing what you said. It was your first “I love you” that just so happened to be broadcast around the world. Joe welcomed you back to your seat with open arms.

“I love you, too, congratulations,” he whispered into your ear before letting you go to sit back down.

While you waited and prayed to every god you could think of to bring Joe into your life, you never imagined it would end up like this. All of the heartaches were worth it as you looked at the man who brought you nothing but joy. He meant the world to you, and despite playing bitter exes during the show, something deep down told you your relationship wouldn’t end like theirs.

I think they meant it when they said you can’t buy love,

Now I know you can rent it, a new lease you are my love.

“I’ll cover you,” he whispered, a smile playing at his lips at his song reference, pulling you into a sweet kiss. You smiled against his lips, relaxing back into your seat when you parted. Rent taught you to make the best out of your situation, and judging by the look on Joe’s face, you did just that.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody #My writing #I have an unhealthy obsession with writing about this man I am sorry #lol no i'm not

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aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

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Hi babes! Chapter 4 for you! It’s a biggie!

Eternally grateful to the tripod, without @dirtystyles -and @bleedinglove4h I would fall on my face- maybe into someone’s cleavage if I timed it right!!

Ski Da Yo- Chapter 4

It's silly really, the entire scenario that she's found herself in. Ada could laugh, nobody would hear it over the music. It's loud, and people are taking turns at the stage. Though She could go join the group, she should, rather than lurking in the corner like a weirdo, fixated on a previous performance. She's not laughing, even at herself. She'd kinda drooling, way more embarrassing.

But she just had to watch him.

He was in his element, relaxed, on, charming, lit up like a Christmas tree. Merry, bright.

She'd never seen him like this, in the flesh. Glimpses, in the interviews she watched and called research. She'd seen the fuss there, agreed to the picture partly on the strength of it.

She could see it, what the fuss was about. And it was the first real glimpse she'd had, besides those moments she felt she had to steal from him to get on film. She was beginning to think there was a limited supply of Styles' magic. Perhaps, that was why she was only able to get a precious few minutes a day.

Watching him now, that did not seem to be the case. Harry was incandescent and she felt blinded by the light. She could chalk that up to all of her rockstar fantasizes brought to life, but it didn't explain everyone else's rapt attention on him, their enthrallment. Maybe they all had a grunge fetish too?

When she walked in and she clocked him, even with the stupid glasses that obscured his face, festive she supposed, he looked different.

On set he looked, perfect was the word that came to mind, but not in the way people usually meant. Polished and made up and proper in his prince clothes. Perfect, fake. And anxious, like the film was a bit of an albatross around his neck. Or maybe the pressure. And he looked like it was heavy, all the trappings trapping him. Ada worried over it. Like, the movie made him regress. Maybe it felt too familiar. He said that a lot when they talked about scenes, when he was frustrated with himself.

"I know just how he feels."

Because he had been there. Is that why he had such a hard time getting the shot? Because it made him freak out a little, feel like he'd not called his own shots for years? But he'd made these choices. Had agency. Maybe she could help him see it as therapeutic. Because it was a way to safely rebel - a redo, no risk.

She'd talk to him about it. They needed to have that drink. She could order him one now.

Ada shook her head. Not tonight. She didn't want to kill his vibe tonight. It was too lovely to watch, and to live she guessed. No shop talk.

He looked light as a cloud, and as soft edged too. Nothing perfect or fake about him. His skin was a little slick under the stage lights, the ridges near his nose were shiny especially. He had glitter on his cheeks, but not like highlighter, like the glasses he wore were cheap, and shedding tiny pieces of shine.

But he did shine.

And he had sounded good.

Not everybody could sing Nirvana, in a chest voice no less.

She was weaned on that. And really into indie rock, especially grunge, while her dad was fostering 90's slick hip hop. It was a silly means of rebellion, but she took her opportunities to disappoint Garner seriously.

She remembered her dad had called the cover of in utero obscene, which made her laugh as he had just put out a video full of nearly naked females in bikinis, but anatomical drawings were obscene. Okay.

She had snuck a new copy in after he threw the first one away and poured over the lyrics in her baggy jeans and crop top with a flannel. Had a giant crush on Kurt, May he Rest In Peace, and when she met Dave Grohl it may have been the only time she was really starstruck.

Well, she felt like she had been hit about the head by a celestial being currently. Harry had it, that was for sure. How had she missed it? The bushel basket he'd been hiding his light under must have been thick. There was something obscuring her view or his personality definitely. Not tonight. Star power was all over him tonight; that was the boy she had signed up to direct. Right there, from those red carpet clips she'd watched. Those sold her and then she had watched concert footage, shaking camera and all. Those were another level. This silly karaoke gig almost matched the wattage when he was bedecked and bantering on stage. He looked dashing, and like he could carry a movie on his thick shoulder pads all with a joke on his vibrant lips. That man was in this building, singing one of her all time favorite songs. It had an effect.

Wow, the rasp in his voice. God, she was still reeling and hiding out in the back like her crush was nearby.

Her eyes widened.

That's what was going on! She was doing what she had done with Danny Diaz in 10th grade. She wasn't teenage dream obsessed about him, really. But, she'd paid him a lot of attentions, clandestinely. He'd been so cool, and was really into raving. Which, in hindsight, made his post high school life a little clearer. But he liked music that had nothing to do with her dad and he was cute, had long bangs and a shaved head and he could dance! She loved to dance.

She needed to go, before this bloomed like a cherry blossom and she fell off in a great big clump to wait for shoe marks. Like 10th grade, only less poetic.

The pathway to the door was clear. Her heels on the floor made a click click click, though nobody should be able to hear it. She turned back to make sure nobody was following her, was watching, and her heel caught, right in a crack in the concrete floor.

"Shit!" Her ankle twisted and her heard a crunch, that was not good, but her trajectory to the ground wasn't either. Her hands went out to catch her.

He smelled good, like leather a bit, smoky, with a sweet tinge. And he caught her and hoisted her up like she was feather light. She never felt like that, because she was the tallest of her friends, not even tall, just taller, and she had never been small. She had that insta baddie body before it was popular. Grown up in the big titty, little hippy 90's. She always felt huge.

But not right now. He had her, was righting her before her weight came down and she properly broke something. This felt like that time she'd sprained her ankle jumping fences to go skating with the boys. Stupid heels.

Back to the rom com moment she found herself in. He's caught her under the arms. His hands span her whole armpit and his fingers curled into her scapula. Ada spared a thought for how sweaty her underarms might be. Yuck! But she should be ok, she'd gotten properly ready, lots of antiperspirant. She knew that, took a deep breath and then realized she'd missed something. He's staring at her expectantly. The rockstar with the totally revealed charm. Harry.

"What?" It came out with no finesse, like a burp.

"You ok?" Harry was kinda grinning and loose, left eye more hooded than his right, and his breath, definitely 80 proof. She heard the shift and he's no longer got her in a dip fit for a tango . She felt like she'd been whirled and thrilled.

"Um, I think I'm ok." She realized they were still locked in an embrace when she tried to check her foot. Ada looked down at the place his hands had migrated to, on her hips. She didn't really need to look, she could feel all ten fingertips, like little bruise marks formed from hope not pressure. It saved her from looking at her own hands where they were full of the muscular forearms she knew to be covered in tattoos beneath the green button-up he had on. It was a a stall.

But Harry released her the minute he saw her eyeing his familiar hands. She had him well trained apparently. Massive walls between them. They were massively out of place at the moment, regrettable. She wasn't balanced on her feet yet either. Ada nearly fell before he steadied her with a rebound hand at her hip. She caught it to stand on one foot, for safety.

Her ankle circled around ok. She felt a twinge of pain, but it was entirely manageable. That was good. She'd probably need to stay off of it, no treadmill tomorrow, and she'd need to elevate it. Ice too, she could ask the bartender for some. She was plotting how to locate an ace type bandage, and who would be best to ask for that. They may have some in makeup - they'd used them to bind breasts on Wildflower, but she couldn't think why they'd have them for this movie. Harry had perky nipples, but they didn't need to be bound. Stop thinking about Harry's nipples. The lowlight would thankfully mask her blush. Wait, Maybe she could ask his friend, Masa, he owned a gym.

Harry. She could ask him too. And that would be really easy because he was still right there. Holding her hand.

They had laced their fingers at her hip. Ada looked at Harry, he had a huge lazy smile on his face. Pleased as punch. She was punch drunk, though she wouldn't say it. He looked so young and toothy. Though the gathering of sweat at his hairline, little droplets above his upper lip, made him real. Imperfect.

She shook herself and their hands unlatched. "I need ice I think?" Of course she needed ice. What was she talking about? Who even was she? Next she's start babbling, and tuck her hair behind her ear and duck her chin.

"Yeah, and a way to put it up." His head swiveled around and he nodded. "C'mon." He gently took her arm and looped it around his shoulder. He was just tall enough.

The table was closer than she would have liked, a walk under his arms was worth remembering, but it was good for her foot. Harry sat her in a booth and put both hands out in a straight stay there motion then grabbed a chair and propped up her ankle gently. The wrong one, but she went with it.

"Be right back." He tripped a little as he looped off to the bar. Ah, that looked normal. The trip to the bar was only the chorus of the song too. He didn't wait long for the bartender. The whole place seemed to be filled with their group, pleasantly vibrant, but not busy. . It was a quick exchange, with a little sign language thrown in. He was big on hand talking on a normal day. Gesticulating when he described most things. He was very full body engaged and engaging before scenes, before he floated away on her.

Huh, she just thought about that, Henry wasn't gesticulative. A little more in the Akio scenes.

She hadn't noticed that Harry had layered physical control into his performance. She found herself nodding. That was good. Made total sense for a royal.

He was walking back to her now with a thin white towel and he was crunching ice in it. Oh shit - she hadn't switched feet, she'd been watching him.

"Cold!" She flinched, "a little warning Styles!"

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I figured me walking from the bar with a towel after I went over to get ice was warning enough." He curled his tongue a little at her and the ice gave her goosebumps.

Wow, maybe he needed liquid courage on set sometimes. All his nerves were gone.

"Usually someone tells you they are about to put ice on you, even nurses, unless they are trying to be little shits!" She arched one of her brows st him. They were her favorite feature and she used them to her advantage.

"You got me, just wanted to see you squirm, since you get to see me uncomfortable a lot." His slow cadence sometimes bugged her on set. It was another thing she could find irritating, during the literal 11th hour. Ada talked fast. She talked a mile a minute on set because they had shit to do and her brain was usually ten paces ahead of her mouth.

But it was kinda nice, the way he took his time.

"You sounded really good! When you were singing." Oh God he blushed. It was his job to sing, did he know that? "You moonlight in a Nirvana cover band often?" She flexed her foot where his hand was still moving ice around to find the sore ligaments, on the wrong foot. She followed the fire and ice.

He squawked a laugh. "No, just the one time, and only because Kunichi is so persistent. I think he could sell bad fish to a Tokyo chef!" He raised his eyebrows and Ada caught her hand just before she covered her laugh.

"So, it's not the song you've always wanted to sing? That wasn't you living out your teenage rock dream?" He shook his head, just hers then.

"Oh, it's a great song, I love rock." He moved his head like, obviously. His body of work spoke to that. "But I like a little more melody when I'm convinced to do karaoke," he made a drinking motion and she was laughing again. "I like disco divas and duets. And if there is absolutely nobody around to tell on me or god forbid, record, Britney Spears is a blast to perform." He'd placed his hand to block his lips from curious eyes and leaned in to tell her this secret. His lips were plump, they like to reach out and touch her faith.

She was thirsty.

Oh shit, did she just say that out loud? How much had she already had, while skulking in the shadows?

"Sure, what do you fancy?" Quicksilver grin, poisonous and enigmatic.

"Um," what had she already had? "A dirty martini!"

"How dirty?" He flashed his eyebrows.

"Very, three extra olives." She gave him her single brow, the one that she used to dare him when that was what he needed on set.

"Three olives!" He made a shocked face. "Well, I never." And he gave her the goofiest grin and went to grab her drink. He looked comfortable. Like a favorite hoodie she wanted to wear. She only got to really watch him one way. He was back quickly.

He sat by her when he put down her cloudy drink. She'd switched legs while he was away and thought she'd got away with it, but caught his eye as he was studying her legs and he smirked at her.

That was a damn good face. "You need to do that for the scene Monday, the one at the club." Ada segued seamlessly into shop talk. She was actually really excited about that one. It was set at a place she had frequented in her time here; she had really happy memories. She was feeling really excited too, this felt like an actual fresh start, she should have taken Harry up on his offer of a drink ages ago. He was a joy loose. This was the rapport they needed, him loose and smirky, handsome with a side of solicitous and cocky sauce. This was the Harry Styles she'd been waiting for!

🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵

Harry felt like he should get an Oscar for this performance. For his steady hands, that he was currently sitting on, and the confident smirk. It wasn't all an act, but the amount of times he'd had to turn this on like a lightbulb in an interview was invaluable right now. It was mostly fake those times, maybe even faker now. He had been relaxed and joyous, and then he had been so relieved to see her smile at him, he just went with it. But the minute he walked away from her, the first time, for the ice, the nerves kicked in. But he faked it, like a seasoned porn star, because she was looking at him, and touching him, and holy shit! Ada Scott was hanging with him. He would keep the action and make the moans believable.

Wow! Was this the way women felt all the time? When they had to put on some performance for the man they were interested in, or for the men they weren't, but couldn't offend?

It felt easier to relax tonight. The day had set him up for success. Things had ended so well on set, and he'd been in the best mood, and had gotten brave. He'd gone to her trailer. To invite her again. Harry was excited about the evening at the bar and seeing music, though he wasn't sure what it would be like, because it wasn't a gig, nor karaoke, some hybrid he had been told. He liked novel nights out.

But everybody was coming. His whole Japanese network, including Jeff and Masa and his girl!

Everybody but Ada. So he'd put on his man panties and went going to ask her. She needed to be there, and even though she'd turned down all of his invitations and returned the replacement shoes, he was going to ask her again. For the whole cast. They had months left and needed to bond.

He needed to bond with her. It felt possible after their day on set, her brow wasn't creased and she didn't speed walk away. She slowed down enough for him to keep up. They'd had a conversation, not about a scene. He'd kept up and not drifted away on her voice. She walked and talked fast. He liked it.

Masa loved to laugh at him, and was doing just that while he psyched himself up to go talk to her. "Just go ask the lady." He'd arrived to take him back to the hotel to Harry stalling. Masa was giving him a look.

His grin was presumptuous. Harry didn't like it. It felt like he knew. Yuki knee, Masa might. Harry did, know, but he didn't think he was so obvious. Did she know?

"You need a tutu?" Masa heckled.

"What?"

"Your mind is like a dancer on drugs," he made a flitting motion with his hands. "you might need a tutu for making the decision. "

"Oh fuck off, man!"

"Just go ask her. It's a cast party, I haven't even met her and she's supposed to be the leader. She needs to come. A leader should." Masa's brow shrunk.

"She is the leader, she's the boss!" He was full of defenses for her. "If you were allowed on set you'd see."

"Oh, I'm not allowed." Harry had neglected to outright tell him that, just let him be distracted, that would run out when they had to go on location. Whoops.

"You'd make fun of me, I've been totally fucking up. So you aren't allowed. At all."

"Isn't the movie about a royal fucking up?" Masa said after catching his wheezing breath. He sounded like a dragon with hay fever.

Hmmm, Harry'd have to have a think on that. That was a plot point he should consider when he was flagellating himself. Maybe he could use it, all his self frustration. He shook himself and jumped up and down like he was going on stage, when he turned around to tell Masa he was going, he was laughing at him, again.

"What now?"

"Are you going to punch her?" He gulped the air. "You do that before you box."

"I just need to hype myself up." Harry shook his head out.

"She must be really pretty."

"Shut up." She was really pretty, but it had been an asset today, made the scene work and Harry had decided he needed exposure therapy. So he needed to be around her, more. He was gonna go talk to her, get used to her face.

He strode to her trailer and stopped cold outside before he could knock. For once, it was not over nerves, but his jaw which had dropped to the floor. That sound as coming from her trailer.

She was singing. Well! To Mary J. Blige's Real Love. And he wanted to sit on the little steps up to her door and listen.

So she could have gone into the music business, had everything going for her there. Connected daddy, pretty face, hot body, and pipes. Wow, she could belt! He had goosebumps. Her voice was rich and evocative. Deeper that he expected.

And he could not talk to her. Not now. Now she was even more impressive.

So he did what any brave young lad would do.

He asked his manager to do it.

Jeff smirked, but sent the text. And like the magic 8 ball he could be, he made the face he did when the outlook wasn't good.

So Harry had resigned himself to Ada not coming to the bar. He was disappointed, but also relieved. Those two feelings must be dating as often as he felt them together when it came to Ada. If she didn't come, he could relax and have fun, let loose, but not bond with her, or have another chance to impress her. Or throw up on her. There would be alcohol involved again. He needed to gain back the ground he'd lost when he spewed at her feet.

A second chance at a first impression.

But Jeff seemed to be right, as he often was. Ada was softer with him after the last cut because he had done a good job. He'd work that angle to bond.

He resigned himself to having another kick ass day on Monday for him and Ada, and having a great time tonight for himself, free of expectations. He was feeling buoyant, Kunichi had noticed right away, pounced and got him on stage. First on the drums, which he played like a 7th grader after a few lessons, and then on the microphone.

God, it was fun. So fun. And he felt the perfect amount of tipsy, like tomorrow he'd need two paracetemol and extra water, a good sweat and nothing else.

He felt extra intoxicated when he spotted Ada. In tight jeans and a slimmer t-shirt than normal, and high heels. He tried not to stare at her ass on a sneaker day, he was doomed with the thrust the 3 inches gave her curves. She looked amazing, but she looked like she was leaving. And he'd just realized she was there!

The social lubricant in his blood didn't give him a chance to think better of it. He was walking to Ada. He got there just in time. Her heel stuck in a crease in the floor, and he caught her. It was every rom com moment he'd ever sat on his mum's couch moon eyed over in one.

He got to help her. And he was able to talk to her like a normal human, and get her a drink. All in the span of 20 minutes!

She seemed relaxed, her shoulders pressed against her tee nicely, but were down, easy. And she smiled at him, a lot.

He was trying his best not to think, he'd spin out. When he went to get her ice towel and then the martini, god, she kind of flirted, right? People flirted with him all the time, or went mute. She didn't do either until tonight. And he was buzzing, more off the flirting at this point than the alcohol.

The little insecure boy inside, the one who was really loud in new situations or around new people, especially people he admired, was chiming in about the stage. The stage cast a spell on people, and he worried about people who knew him from it or expressed attraction to that aspect of him.

It's why he'd always held back with Helene, regrettably.

He didn't want to make that mistake again, he'd made wrong assumptions that cost him Helene's affections. He didn't want to do that here, wanted to do the opposite. Part of him wanted to dive in, head first, but he wasn't sure. Rejection hurt no matter who you were, and though he'd had his share, Harry's skin was still cling wrap thin. He wanted her to like him too. He wanted this to be real. Which meant he had to be honest, and open. But he was rushing it, like he did when he was crushing.

He was going to let this night be what he hoped it would be, a beginning. And he was that guy, the one on stage, with the smirk, and the wit. He was also less commanding, and lost his cool at times, but she'd seen that guy. He just needed to show her more of his best side, tonight, and on set.

He caught Kunichi motioning to him. Ah, he'd almost forgotten his promise.

He leaned back, let his arm brush her shoulder while he relaxed. He'd turn on the charm for just a minute, he could manage that, he wanted something he'd been a little consumed with for the better half of this night. And he wanted it from Ada.

He flexed the dimple and titled his head to the side. "This smile?" He pointed his finger at his lips.

"That's a good one, but no. The cockier one!" Oooh, he really did love that eyebrow. Gave him tingles.

"I will do my absolute best," he smirked and her lashes fluttered. "If you'll come up and sing with me."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #a premontion of love #apol #chapter 4 #ski da yo #talk to me

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hamimagines · 6 years

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Tango Part Four (John Laurens x Reader)

Masterlist

Beginning // Previous Part - (there is no next part! this is the end!)

Warnings: fluffy smut

A/N - (I can’t believe we’re actually at the end of Tango!!! This is wild!! I loved this series so much and I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did)

Song- I Choose You - Sara Bareilles

Words- 8,569

“Yeah.” You looked down at the ground. There was an awkward pause, and you could feel John’s eyes on you. Eventually, you took a deep breath and faced him. “I just wanted to apologize and say that we should be friends. Just friends, no benefits. That’s probably what’s best for everybody.”

If John was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You smiled and stuck your hand out for him to shake, “Friends?”

John ignored your hand and pulled you in for a tight hug. “Friends.”

You smiled and squeezed him back.

As you and John had expected, the gossip about the two of you blew over in a few days. Rumors about the two of you dating had also been squashed, due largely in part to Angelica shutting people up about it. Even if people were still talking, you didn’t notice. The talent show was less than two weeks away, and with homework on top of that, you had no choice but to focus, focus, focus.

The great part about your new all work-no play policy was that you “didn’t have time” to respond to Charles’ countless texts. Apparently leaving your ex stuck in a hospital bed wasn’t enough for him to understand that you were done. Charles still wanted to talk. He wanted to “work things out.” There wasn’t anything to work out, as far as you were concerned. You were done with him. Any feelings that remained left your heart the second you heard how creepy he sounded in the hospital. You could still hear the way he said “You’re a good girl, Y/N. You don’t do that with just anybody.” Every time you thought about it chills crawled up your spine, and not the good kind.

Charles had said that you couldn’t possibly have feelings for a guy like John, but you didn’t think John was a bad guy. Sure, you used to think he was some player douchebag, but you’d gotten to know a completely different side of him since being his friend-and only his friend. He played guitar. He refused to eat ice cream out of a bowl; cones were a requirement. He was actually great at drawing. His parents made him take dance classes until he was seven, which was probably why he was so good in Cell Block Tango.

John Laurens had really started to become your best friend, though Angelica would never let you say that out loud. You and John had fallen into the habit of hanging out after dance practice on Fridays. It was the one day of the week that he could convince you to step away from schoolwork. Sometimes you hung out with everyone. Sometimes it was just the two off you.

When it was just you and John, the two of you would get ice cream (in cones of course, otherwise John would rant about it not being as good) and sit on a picnic table in the park near your school. Sometimes you two would just sit there, enjoying the comfortable silence. Other times you would talk for hours, about anything.

“John, how come you never talk about your parents?” You’d asked him one time. It had been bothering you for awhile. You knew his mom had died and that his dad was always gone on business trips, but that was all you knew.

“Come again, princess?”

You smiled. Despite the lack of sex, he hadn’t dropped the nickname that you would never admit you loved. “I just...you never really talk about her.” John finally met your eyes. “Your mom, I mean.” John shrugged and looked away again. You sighed and set your partially eaten ice cream cone down on the picnic table. You were both sitting on the table rather than on the bench. It was just more comfortable. John glanced down at your ice cream before he grabbed it and starting eating it himself.

“Gross John. My mouth was on that.”

He shrugged and kept eating. “Your mouth has been worse places.”

You rolled your eyes, “Alright, charmer. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not!” he said defensively.

You gave him a look. “I just want you to know you can trust me. If you ever want to talk about it.”

John nodded. “I know I can.”

You stared at your hands for a minute, not knowing what else to say. The only sound was coming from the crickets the occupied the park you were in. The sun was starting to set and everything was becoming quiet and still.

“I was seven when she died,” John said. You looked up and saw him watching you carefully. “That’s why I stopped those dance lessons you swore you wouldn’t tell anybody about.”

“And I haven’t,” you said. John gave you a pointed look. “Okay, so maybe Angelica knows, but that’s it I promise.” John rolled his eyes at you but smiled regardless. You let another moment of silence pass before you spoke again. “That’s pretty young to be dealing with something like that.”

John nodded and leaned back, staring up at the darkening sky. “Yeah, it was. I mean, dealing with not having a mom anymore was like, unimaginably difficult, especially when you’re just starting to understand what death actually means. But I think the isolation from Henry hurt more though.” John always referred to his dad by his first name, and you never knew why. “Losing mom, just, took something out of him, I guess. He’s never been the same. Henry and I exchange as many words in a year that most people probably exchange with their dad in a day. And we disagree on so much, it’s like, what’s the point in even trying to talk to him.”

Instinctively, you reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry, John.”

“It’s okay.” John turned his hand over and interlaced your fingers. “I’m used to it. At some point, I realized that this was the new normal, and I accepted it. I met Alex, and we bonded over our lack of parental figures. That definitely helped.”

You nodded. It made sense now why John and Alex were so close. Everyone at school knew that Alex lived with a foster family because his mother died and his father abandoned him. No one knew John had such a similar situation.

“It’s getting late. We should get you home.” John pulled his hand away from your so fast that it left you feeling cold by comparison. John hopped off the table and held his hand out to help you down.

You didn’t want to leave John after he’d just bared his soul to you.“It’s barely 8. Can we go to your house?”

John smiled. “Whatever you want, princess.”

You texted your mom that you’d be staying at Angelica’s house tonight and followed John to his car.

Your shoes made a subtle squeaking noise as you walked down the basement hallway to your school’s small dance studio. It had been raining outside, very heavily, and now all your clothes were soaked. The worst part was, you weren’t alone. John walked beside you, shaking his damp hair like a dog.

“Oh my god, you’re getting me even more wet!” you laughed, shoving John to the side.

“Sorry, princess.” John leaned closer and shook his head again, spraying you with droplets of cold water.

“You are absolutely the worst,” you said. John only grinned in response.

You’d stayed the night at John’s again last night, but instead of sleeping on the couch like you normally would, you slept in his bed next to him. It was weird being in John Laurens’ bed and still remaining completely clothed, but you’d figured that was just the point your friendship was at. You two were comfortable around each other now.

You pushed the door of the dance studio open. Everyone was already there and changed, meaning you were late. A pang of guilt shot through your chest.

“Oh, thank god. You’re here,” Angelica said with relief. You wanted to grumble something about barely being late, but bit your tongue. You were practicing in full costume now. It was Saturday, exactly one week from the talent show. Tensions were very high.

“Yeah, let me just run and change quick.” You started to step out of the door again, but Angelica grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in. Your mind involuntarily flashed to the last time someone had pulled you back into this room against your will.

John pinning you against the same door, asking why you embarrassed him like that. You remembered his hand pressing against your hip while he whispered in your ear.

“Can you blame me? Look at you.”

Butterflies were starting to fill your stomach. Your eyes fluttered up to John just long enough to make contact with his and see him trying to hold back laughter. He knew exactly what you were remembering. Those few seconds felt like minutes, and you had to take a deep breath to bring yourself back to what Angelica was saying.

“-have no time, so just change in here quick so we can get started,” she finished. You opened your mouth to protest, but the look she gave you shut you up right away. You swallowed your pride and walked over to a corner to change. You knew that this performance meant more to Angelica than it did to anyone else. She’d invited scouts from a few different performing arts colleges, including the one she wanted to go to since she was a child. She was hoping to get a scholarship offer so that she could afford to attend next fall.

You stood in the corner and dropped your costume bag on the floor next to you. Before stripping you glanced around to make sure no one was looking, but truthfully you wouldn’t mind much. You’d gone on theater retreats until you were 15 and as a result, you were pretty used to changing in front of others. You slowly peeled the soaked T-shirt away from your skin and pulled it off. You laid it out flat on the ground in the hopes that it would dry by the time you were finished rehearsing. You pulled the leather bra out of your bag and started to take the plain one that you were already wearing off. The leather bra didn’t have a clasp in the back so you had to put in on like a sports bra. You reached your hands above your head - exposing your bare chest even more- and pulled it on. Once it was over your boobs, you had to pull them around to make sure they were in the right position. After that, you took your pants off and pulled on the black fishnet skirt that was attached to plain black underwear. Lastly, you sat down and put on your lace-up black stilettos.

John sat next to you. His outfit was much less complicated than yours. You let your eyes scan over his shirtless figure, still slightly damp from the rain. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt lust taking over your body. Your gaze moved to his John’s face, and you saw that he, surprisingly, wasn’t looking at your body at all. You felt a little disappointed. You’d kinda hoped he noticed your little strip show. Instead, he was typing something into his phone.

“Hey,” he looked up, finally meeting your eyes. “There’s gonna be a party tonight. You wanna come?”

You finally met his eyes. Why were you thinking about him so much lately? Sure, you regularly had dreams about him, but that was just your brain trying to process information. You couldn’t blame your brain for doing its job. But now, now you were thinking about him in the daylight too. Something about the way his bare chest and abs were shining from the rainwater was making it difficult for you to breathe.

“Yo, Y/L/N.” John snapped his fingers in your face. “Party? Yes or no?”

You snapped out of your sexual thoughts so fast you got whiplash. Before you could respond, Angelica spoke up.

“Everybody ready? Alright good. Let’s rehearse,” she yelled with a clap. Everyone took their spots and waited for the song to start.

You swayed with the music, going through the motions you knew so well by now. John stepped out from the side and met you as you wrapped your arms around him. You'd done this what felt like a thousand times by now. The scent of him filled your nose in a way that was a little too intoxicating, but you continued to sing and dance with near perfection. At this point, it was muscle memory, and your mind was able to wander as pranced around John. He lifted you up, and you ran your hand down his face and in his still-damp hair before he dropped to the floor, bringing you with him. You glanced up and saw yourself in the mirror. It took you back to your triste with John in the dance studio. You pushed the thought away, leaning down to connect your lips with John's. He opened his mouth and pushed the red handkerchief into your mouth with his tongue. You gripped it with your teeth and started to slowly tug it out of his mouth.

"You know some guys just can't hold their arsenic."

You and John jumped up and continued with the choreography. You tried to keep a serious, seductive face while you sang, but John kept giving you goofy looks that made you laugh.

You finished the routine, breathing heavily. Angelica gave everyone a minute to catch their breath before you ran it again. And again. And again.

When practice was finally finished, you and John were the second people to leave. Theodosia and Aaron being the first. They were "hanging out" as "friends", but everyone knew there was so much more going on. No one wanted to say anything because Theodosia had a boyfriend who lived a few cities away, but it was so obvious that Aaron was completely smitten with her.

You wondered if John had felt that same way when you were with Charles. He'd certainly had an odd way of showing it if he did. For the longest time, you'd seriously thought he was an unfeeling playing. It seemed like all he cared about was getting in any girls pants, especially yours. You were honestly surprised when he stuck around even after you'd stopped sleeping with him.

"I understand why she's working so hard," John said, snapping you out of your thoughts again, "but god damn it, Angelica Schuyler, I am so sore all time."

You nodded in agreement, "She needs that scholarship though. It's such a prestigious art school, therefore it's incredibly expensive."

"She already got in though?"

"Yeah she's been accepted, but if she doesn't get this scholarship, she'll have to go somewhere that's cheaper. They only give out 15 of these scholarships every year. $15,000 dollars for 15 students. It's outrageous."

"You applied to the same school, didn't you? And you got in?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

You pursed your lips and said nothing. John rolled his eyes as he held the door open for you. It had stopped raining and now smelled like petrichor. You took a deep breath of the familiar scent and avoided John’s question. "You know you can tell me anything, Y/N."

"I'm just not gunning for that scholarship. It's not that deep."

"Why not?"

"I'm probably not gonna go there."

"Really? Why the change of heart?"

The two of you climbed into your car.

"It's not a change of heart. I was never planning on going there."

"Then why'd you apply there.”

You stayed silent, trying to formulate an answer while you started the car and began to drive. John said your name, dragging out the syllables. This was he was his way of getting you to talk. He always resorted to annoying you until you relented.

“I just...an art school is scary.”

“Scary? Y/N, it’s what you want to do.”

You thought back to the time you and John had confessed to each other that you both had a passion for the stage. You loved to act, and in addition to John’s secret dance skills, he was actually amazing on his guitar and he could sing.

"What do you mean?"

"Going to a school that specializes in performing arts is so restrictive, you know? Like what if I got there and all of the kids are so amazing and talented that I realize I can’t compare, but I have nowhere else to go because I focused so heavily on being a performer and nothing else. It's just safer for me to go to a university and major in something practical that will lead to a real career."

"Wow," was all John said in response. You stole a glance at him. He was staring out at the road with his jaw clenched. "You know that is by far the most bullshit to ever come out of your mouth." You glared at him. "I'm being fucking serious, Y/N. You are insanely talented. You shouldn't be so afraid of failure that you don't even try to pursue your dreams."

"It's not that I'm afraid of fail-"

"It is." John cut you off so quickly that you were surprised by it. "Sorry," he said more quietly. "It's just...I know how much this means to you even if it's hard for you to admit. I don't want to see you grow up to be a bitter old woman because you never took a chance on yourself."

You laughed and pretended to check your side mirror to hide the fact that you’d teared up a bit while John was speaking. “When did you become my life coach?” you joked.

“Somewhere between the great sex and the fist fight.”

You reached over and slapped his arm. You turned onto John’s street and instantly noticed that there was a car parked in his driveway. “Your dad’s home,” you whispered as you parked in the street.

John shrugged. “Guess so.” He grabbed his bag and hopped out of your car. “Party tonight? I’ll pick you up.”

You tore your eyes away from Henry’s car. “Uh, yeah. Yeah just text me.” John nodded. You stayed parked on his street until he was inside his house, and then even a little longer. You hadn’t ever met Henry, and you weren’t sure if you ever would, but it made you uneasy how John was just barely 18 and had already been living alone for so long.

That night John picked you up a little after 9:30. You snuck out a window in your basement so that your parents wouldn’t know you were out of the house. You met John on the corner of your street. As you were buckling yourself in, your phone rang. It was Charles. You quickly declined the call, but not before John saw. His eyes moved slowly from your phone to the road ahead of him. His jaw was clenched and he was gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand.

“So, he’s still bothering you?” he said without looking at you.

“John, I-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded more hurt than angry. You weren’t expecting that. “I could have helped you.”

“I don’t need help. Look, it’s really not a big deal.”

“What the fuck? Of course, it’s a big deal, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “John, I refuse to argue with you about Charles Lee.”

“I’m not arguing, I just-” You gave John a look that instantly shut him up. He bit his lip and met your eyes. John turned back to the road and sighed. You could see the tension leaving his shoulders. “I’m just scared. That’s all.” He admitted.

“Scared?”

“That he’ll hurt you.”

You leaned back in the passenger seat, unsure of how to respond. You doubted Charles would ever actually harm you, but the fact thought John had clearly been stressed by that thought made you feel a little guilty. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered. John nodded, and you two drove in silence the rest of the way to the party.

“Joooohhnn!” You slurred clinging onto him. He was talking with Alex and Lafayette who both had drinks in their hands. John had a red cup, but it was only filled with soda. Your cup, however, was not filled with just soda. And neither was the one before it. Or the one before that. Or the one before that. John laughed and caught you when you almost fell over.

“Hi princess,” he said, smiling down at you.

You giggled and poked his face. “Don’t look at me like that you cheeseball!” You started laughing and poking his face more. “Cheese! Smile!” You pushed his cheeks up to make him look like he was grinning.

John laughed and pulled your hands down away from his face. "Alright. I think it's time I got you out of here."

"What? Nooo!" You whined.

“I agree,” Alex said seriously. You watch as he held his phone out to John. Concern clouded John’s expression.

"Yep. Time to go." John said goodbye to Alex and Laf before taking your hand. He put the other on the small of your back and guided you through the crowd of high schoolers. You said goodbye to Angelica as John lead you out of the house.

"Why are you making me leave?" You were outside now, standing on the porch of someone's house. At this point, you could barely remember what city you were in, much less who's house this was. John didn't answer your question.

"Just trust me, Y/N. It's better if we leave right now."

You were annoyed, but John seemed so serious, and you were tired so you relented. John lead you to his car and helped you get in. He turned the radio on and started driving. You hummed along to the song and couldn't help but dance a bit in your seat. John looked over at you and started laughing at how ridiculous you were being. You bit your lip and smiled at him.

Feeling bold, you reached over and placed your hand on his thigh. John tensed immediately and stared at you. "Y/N? What are you doing?"

“Oh, nothing,” you replied.

John looked at your face, your hand, and the road before glancing back down at your hand. “Okay.”

You smiled and moved your hand up higher. “Absolutely not,” he said in a firm voice. He picked your hand up and moved it back into your lap. You pouted the rest of the ride to his house. When you arrived, John helped you stumble to his front door.

“Wait, what about your dad?”

“He’s gone. He just stopped by and then left again.” John said simply.

“What a douche!” you screamed before you could stop yourself. John laughed and opened his door, letting you into his house.

“Okay. Let’s go upstairs now, Y/N.”

“That’s soooooo far,” you complained. John sighed and hooked his arm under your knees, carrying you princess style. He headed for the stairs. You giggled, “The last time you carried me up here we had sex.” You started laughing even more, but John didn’t say anything. You were annoyed that he was so silent. “Do you remember that John? Remember when we had sex?”

“I remember.”

“John, I have a secret.”

“What, Y/N?”

You leaned in close so your lips were at his ear. “We had sex twice,” you whispered.

John nodded and set you down. You were now standing on the floor of his bedroom. “That’s not much of a secret, princess.”

“Mm, I love it when you call me that.” You put your hands on his chest.

John smirked. “I fucking knew it.” You smiled up at him, waiting for him to kiss you. “I’m gonna go get you some water,” he said instead. You huffed in disappointment.

“John!” you called.

“What?” he yelled from another room. You smirked and pulled your shirt off.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure!”

You unbuttoned your pants and started to pull them off. “Will you please fuck me?”

“I’m sorry, what?” John reappeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water for you. His eyes widened when he saw you. You laughed and started to take your bra off.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Stop.” He finally walked over to you when you started pulling your underwear down. John grabbed your hands, effectively stopping you from stripping.

“Why?”

“Because we are not having sex tonight.”

You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your naked torso against him. He closed his eyes and turned his face away from you, taking a shaky breath. “But I want to sooo badly, John. Please.” You gripped his shirt and kissed his neck. John pushed you away roughly.

“Not like this, Y/N,” he said, turning away from you.

“What? Don’t you like me?”

John paused. You saw his shoulders move as he took a deep breath in and let it out before speaking again. “I’m not talking about this right now, Y/N. Not when you’re drunk.” He walked to his dresser and grabbed a shirt and pajama pants, handing them to you without looking at your body. You took them and put them on silently, feeling dejected. When you were clothed again, John told you to get into bed. He set the water on the nightstand next to you.

“Go to sleep now, princess,” he said, his hand smoothed over your hair protectively. You nodded and closed your eyes. The exhaustion from practice earlier that day and the alcohol in your system made it easy for you to fall asleep quickly.

John turned the light off and shut the door quietly. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, running his hand over his face. He was surprised he made it out of that alive. He needed a cold shower.

John stood and walked to the bathroom, stripping his clothes off. He was slightly hard from the way it felt having your body pressed against him and your lips on his neck. He shook those thoughts from his head. That was not helping the situation. He turned the water on and stepped into the cold stream, trying to calm down.

It had been so hard for him to resist you like that, but he knew he had to. It wasn’t what you really wanted. You were drunk and in no state to consent to something like that. But still. The way you’d looked at him with so much admiration and desired had shaken him to his core. The way you’d asked if he even liked you when he’d been in love with you for years. It was all so incredibly you that it overwhelmed him.

You who he’d had a crush on since he met you freshman year. He knew you didn’t see him that way at all, so he spent two years trying to bury those feelings. By the time he had the courage to do something about it, you were already with Charles. It still killed him that you thought he felt nothing for you, but there was no point in saying anything now. You were both going to graduate soon. You were gonna go off to college and have great experiences and become an actress. And he was going to stay here and do nothing with his life. He couldn’t even bring himself to admit to you that he hadn’t applied to any colleges. There was nothing out there for him. He wasn’t smart or talented enough to make anything of himself, and he knew you deserved.

Still, you were asleep in his bed now. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how he would give anything to hold you and make you feel good just like he had that day in the dance studio and that night in his bedroom.

John sighed in frustration and just the water off. This was getting him nowhere. His hand slid down his abs toward his erection as more thoughts of you invaded his thoughts.

You stirred awake feeling confused and thirsty. You sat up slightly, feeling a little dizzy. There was a glass of water sitting next to you. You started drinking from it gratefully, downing the whole thing in a matter of seconds. You looked around. This wasn't your bedroom, but the surroundings were familiar. You thought of John and instantly smiled. You were in his room.

You looked at the empty glass in your hand. Still incredibly thirsty, you decided you would search for more water. Crawling out of bed was a difficult process, as the alcohol was still affecting you. You managed to find your way to the door and stepped out into the hall. There was light coming from the bathroom. You walked toward it, intent on filling your cup with water. You opened the door slowly and walked toward the sink, but before you could turn it on a get the drink you so desperately need you heard a noise come from the shower. Feeling scared, you walked towards it. The curtain was pushed slightly to the side, and you angeled yourself so that you could see into the shower. You expected a murdered or a robbed or something, but what you saw instead was John Laurens with one hand propped against the wall, leaning forward. His eyes were squeezed shut and water was dripping from his curls down to the bottom of the top. You nearly gasped at the sight but were able to keep quiet. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't. You watched as he massaged himself, his face contorting. John's lips parted and one word fell from his mouth.

"Y/N..."

You clamped your hand over your mouth and stepped back. Quickly, but quietly you left the bathroom and ran back to John's bedroom.

You had definitely sobered up now. You couldn't believe you'd just caught John masturbating! And he was thinking about you while he was doing it! You wanted to feel disgusted, but memories of what you had done before going to bed were starting to rise out of the alcohol's fog. You had come on to John in a way that was completely inappropriate, and he had refused you. You were drunk and that was the right thing to do. You felt guilty for frustrating so much that he had to resort to that. Still, it was little exciting to imagine what John might have been thinking about. Was he reminiscing about the experiences you two had actually shared, or was his mind coming up with new ideas? You smiled to yourself and crawled back into his bed, but this time you couldn't sleep.

You didn't know how long you had stayed there in the dark, thinking about John's wet body and the things it could do to you. First the rainwater, and now this. Your mind had plenty of images to conjure up now. Eventually, you heard the bedroom door creaked open and soon the bed shifted. John got under the covers and you turned so that you could face him, pretending you were still half asleep. You tucked yourself into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, and his wrapped an arm around you. You smiled and breathed his scent in. You felt his breathing slow and knew he'd fallen asleep. You followed suit soon after.

When you woke up the next morning John wasn't next to you anymore. You sat up and looked around. He wasn't in the bedroom at all. The same glass of water was on the nightstand, full again. You stared down at it. Something was wrong. You sorted through the memories of last night as you picked up the water and scrutinized it. When you had run out of the bathroom last night, you'd forgotten it on the bathroom counter. And if it was here sitting next to you again, that meant John had seen it. He knew you'd been in the bathroom last night. Panic started to set in, but you took a deep breath. He didn't know when you were in the bathroom or how long you'd been there. Maybe he didn't think you'd caught him at all. But you definitely had. You still couldn't get that image out of your brain, not that you really wanted to.

You walked out into the hallway, but still saw no sign of John. You furrowed your brow and walked downstairs. You found John in the kitchen. He had a white mug in his hand and was staring at the wall with a blank expression.

"How are you feeling?" he asked without looking at you. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his nerves. Yep, he definitely knew you'd caught him.

"Fine," you spoke meekly.

"Coffee?" he asked, finally looking at your face, but only for a second. You nodded. John turned around and grabbed another mug. He filled it with coffee from the pot he'd already made. You walked over to the kitchen counter and took it from him. You took a sip of the coffee. It tingled on your taste buds, and you could already feel the slight headache you had easing away.

“Hey, why did you make us leave so early last night?”

“Someone told Alex that Charles was on his way. I figured you didn’t want to deal with the drama.

“Thanks,” you whispered, staring into your coffee. When you looked up, John had his back to you again. You set the mug down in frustration. "John, will you please just look at me?" you said. He hesitated, but you finally saw his body start to shift. You knew this was your chance. Before he could say anything about last night, you grabbed his face and kissed him.

John stumbled slightly in shock, but you felt his shaky hand come to your face as he leaned into the kiss. It was sweet and short, and definitely less charged with sexual energy compared to any of your other senses. You pulled away and looked at John. That kiss had taken your breath away. You felt so alive. A million thoughts flooded your mind, and you wanted to share everything with him, but you didn't know what to say or how to phrase it. You watched his eyes as the searched yours for answers. His brow was furrowed in the cutest way, and his mouth hung open slightly. You hoped your eyes were able to convey how much he meant to you.

You leaned in and kissed him again. This time John was ready. He had one hand on your hip and the other in your hair, tilting your head up to give him greater access to your mouth. You smiled into the kiss, unable to help yourself. Your heart felt so full. This was John. This was your John.

John moved you slightly so you were up against the counter. You jumped so you were sitting on it and wrapped your legs around his waist. You opened your mouth, letting John in. His hands moved up your sides in a way that gave you goosebumps. You shivered, and John pulled away from you. You took the opportunity to bring his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging slightly. John pupils dilated with lust, but his hands remained gentle. You paused for a moment. The air was heavy, save for the two of you breathing heavily. This felt different than the other times you'd been together. That was like a game, a fun way to get off, but this felt real.

You kissed John again with fervor. He grabbed your legs and pulled your off of the counter, keeping you attached to his waist. You laughed loudly. "John, don't drop me!" you yelled when he started to walk up the stairs.

"Princess, when have I ever dropped you on these stairs," he replied. You smiled and looked at him fondly. You took in the features of his face like you were seeing him for the first time. The curve of his nose, the pattern his facial hair grew in, his freckles, his lips, you wanted to study all of it so that you would never forget what John Laurens looked liked. Your fingers followed the path your eyes were forming as you mapped him.

John set you down gently on his bed. You scooted back until you wearing leaning against the pillows and his headboard. John pulled his shirt over his head and then came to hover over you. Your hands cupped his face as he kissed you again. His ran his fingers along your along your arm. Your heart was beating at an astonishing pace and your chest swelled with each small movement John made. He pulled away and looked down at you. He expression was full of care and joy that you couldn't breathe. "Y/N?" John's brow furrowed adorably again, "Are you okay? You're crying."

You quickly brought your hand to your face and felt a single tear that had escaped. You looked up at John. John moved so he next to you instead of over you. He was worried about you. John was always worried about you. And he always cared about you, and he always made you laugh. He always made you feel safe. He frustrated you in so many ways, but he made you feel happier than anybody else.

“I love you,” you whispered. John's mouth hung open. You stared at him, unable to anything but smile.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” You moved so you were straddling him. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “You are such an idiot, and I love you so much.”

John pulled your face to his and kissed you with renewed energy. “I love you too. I always love you.”

You grinned and started kissing him again. He placed his hands gently on your hips while he watched you take his shirt off your body. You weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. John watched you with affection. “God, you’re so beautiful, he whispered.

You felt yourself blush. “No need to flatter me, John.”

He sat and wrapped his arms around you, staring up at your face. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You pushed his long hair away from his face and kissed him. You started to grind against him slowly, earning a moan from John. You could feel the vibrations from it on his throat. His right hand left your body and reached over to the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling a condom.

You gave him an impressed look. “Better safe than sorry,” he stated with a shrug. John flipped you over so he was on top of you again. He started to pull the pajama pants of off you, watching your expression for any signs of hesitation. There were none. You wanted this, wholly and completed.

When your pants were off, John pulled his own down, just enough to reveal his erection. He took the condom and rolled it on. Watching him was torture. You wanted him so badly you could hardly take it. Finally, John leaned over you again. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer so that your hips were flush against his.

Slowly John pushed himself inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He rocked his hips slowly, a stark contrast to the aggressive way he normally treated you. But you both knew that this was more than just a hookup.

You and John held eye contact as he started to move faster and faster Your breath mingled and your bodies were flush against each other. Staring into John’s eyes, you realized so many things about him and about yourself. It was like the sky opened up and you could finally see clearly.

“John...” you moaned, tugging at his hair. He adjusted his stance so that he could hold himself up with one hand and used his thumb to rub your clit. Your back arched and you moaned loudly.

“I love you so much, princess,” he whispered.

You felt your orgasm building quickly, much quicker than it normally did. You didn’t want this moment with John to end, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just so overcome with emotion. You sat up and bit into his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming. You felt all of your muscles tense and it took several seconds before the relaxed again. You scratched at John’s back as you rode out your high. A few moments later finished with one final thrust of intensity.

John moved off of you. After you both took a moment to catch your breath, he got up to throw the condom away before returning to the bed. You both lay on your sides gazing at each other.

“I really do love you,” you said.

“This doesn’t feel real.”

“I know.”

“But it is.”

“I know,” you said giddily.

John reached his hand out and started to play with your hair. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I need to go to Charles’ house,” you said

John retracted his hand faster than you’d seen him do anything. “What?”

“I love you, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that anymore. I need to tell him off for good, so he finally leaves me alone.

“Okay.” John sat up and grabbed his shirt. “Let’s go.”

“We need to make one stop first.”

After you picked up Charles’ old sweatshirts from your house, John drove you to Charles’ house. He offered to come in with you, still feeling anxious and protective, but you told him it was something you needed to do on your own.

Charles was shocked to you on his doorstep. A huge grin spread across his face.

“Y/N! Hello!” He looked down at the shirts in your arms and his smile wavered.

“I need to give this back to you Charles.”

“Y/N,” he reached out to touch your arm, but you dodged it. “I told you could keep them.”

“But I can’t,” you said, “I can’t hold onto anything. And you can’t either. It’s over Charles. It’s been over for a long time. We need to move own.” Charles looked absolutely dismayed. “Look, I loved you, Charles. I really did. But we’re just not right for each other. We bring out the worst in each other, and we both deserve to find someone that’s perfect for us.”

Charles looked past you towards the street where John was waiting for you in his car. “Is...Is he perfect for you?”

You turned around and looked at John for a moment. “I don’t know yet,” you said truthfully. You turned back to Charles. “But that’s for me to worry about, not you.”

Charles stared at you. You watched his expression slowly shift into acceptance. “Okay,” Charles said quietly. You held the shirts out to him, and he took them in his own arms. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you around, Charles.” You gave him a final nod before you walked back to John. You could feel Charles watching you, but you couldn’t let yourself feel bad for him. That chapter of your life was closed. You were ready to start again.

“How’d it go?” John asked when you got in the car.

You took a deep breath. “Fine,” you said. John gave you a concerned look. “Really, it went well. It’s...it’s finally done.” You smiled to yourself. A weight had been lifted off your chest. John took your hand and interlaced your fingers.

“I say we celebrate.” John brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let me take you on a real date. We’ve done everything, but a real, actual date. Not just getting ice cream as ‘friends’” he said with air quotes.

You smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

The day of the talent show finally arrived. Nerves were in abundance, but you all knew the routine so well. There was no way you’d mess up. Not with Angelica as your leader. You spent most of the day by her side reassuring her, but truthfully she was so ready. Angelica wanted this more than anything, and she was ready to get it. You were so proud of her.

You came back from touching up your makeup and spotted John. You instantly walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hello there, princess.” He smirked, admiring how you looked in your costume.

John leaned down to kiss you, but you pushed his face away “Stop,” you giggled. “I don’t wanna have to fix my makeup again.”

“What a tease,” John joked.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Angelica cut in, “Time for a team huddle before we go on.”

The whole group gathered together. Angelica took a deep breath. “I am so incredibly proud of you for all the work you’ve put in, and for dealing with my stress and bitchiness, and just being such amazing friends. I’m so glad I have all of you to do this with.”

“Hey, no tears. You’ll mess up your makeup,” Eliza said, fanning her sister’s face.

“You’re right, Eliza. Let’s get this show on the road!”

You all cheered and clapped. Moments later your group was called. You gave Angelica one last hug before you all took your spots on stage.

The music started and you knew exactly what to do.

“Pop,” Theodosia said beside you.

“Six,” you breathed. The song continued.

Hercules walked to the center of the stage. “And now, the six married murderesses of the Cook County Jail in their rendition of…The Cell Block Tango.”

After a few measures, you came forward and grabbed onto the bar of your makeshift jail cell, saying your assigned word with aggression. You switched arms and threw your head back as you repeated that one word. Switching positions to the beat of the song, you stood with your legs spread far apart and stomped to the music as you sang along with your best friends. You propped one leg up and moved slowly down the bars. “If you’d of seen it…” you sang angrily before turning to Angelica with the rest of the girls.

Theodosia stepped out and started to dance and sing with Aaron. It was the exact same choreography it had always been, but you were all performing with the enthusiasm of your first run through. Like nothing could stop you.

You stepped out from behind the jail door and walked to the center of the stage. The man you loved met you there. You grabbed his shoulder and dance the way you always did. You heard whoops and hollers from the audience, inspiring you to keep going. Memories flooded your mind. Everything, the bad breakup, practices with John, sleeping with John, momentarily hating John, it had all lead to this. You couldn’t be happier.

John picked you up and the two of you fell to the ground together. You kissed him and pulled the fabric out of his mouth.

“You know, some guys just can’t hold their arsenic”

“You guys that performance was amazing!” Angelica squealed. You were all backstage screaming and celebrating. In the midst of all the festivities, you heard a voice.

“Excuse me? Angelica Schuyler?”

Angelica stood still. “Yes?”

“That’s the scout from Angelica’s dream school,” you whispered in John’s ear.

“Your dream school too,” he reminded you.

“Miss Schuyler, I understand you organized this performance.”

“I did,” she said proudly.

All of the pretenses the scout had dropped. “Miss Schuyler, I’m Eli Jahns from Barnard College for Performing Arts. That performance was absolutely amazing!” he gushed.

You saw Eliza and Peggy start to push other scouts away to give Angelica time to talk to Mr. Jahns.

“Angelica Schuyler, I would be honored to offer you our Presidential Scholarship if you attend school with us next fall.”

“Yes!” Angelica said quickly holding her hand out for him to shake. You hug John, leaning into his side. You were so happy that all of Angelica’s dreams were coming true.

Mr. Jahns turned to you and John. “The same goes for you two.”

Your jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The choreography you two had is some of the hardest out there. There’s a huge risk for injury of both parts. They didn’t even do it in the movie; it was edited to look like they did. But you two...you executed it perfectly.”

“Th-thank you, sir.”

“Miss Y/L/N, right?” He held his hand out. You nodded and shook it. “I don’t believe I know you,” Mr. Jahns turned to John.

“Yeah, that’s because I, I uh, haven’t applied to any colleges, including yours,” he admitted. You stared at John in shock.

“Well son,” Mr. Jahns handed your boyfriend a business card. “There’s a spot for you at Barnard next fall, if you want it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Congratulations, everyone. Simply amazing!” Mr. Jahns said, before walking away.

You screamed and hugged Angelica. “We’re going to the same school next year!” Angelica screamed.

“I know! We’re going to Barnard! We’re all going to Barnard!” You turned and jumped into John’s arm as Angelica was flooded with affection from her sisters. John picked up and spun in a circle.

You leaned down and kissed John. Each time you did it was like electricity through your body.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#John Laurens #john laurens fanfiction #john laurens smut #john laurens x reader #hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamilton x reader fic #hamilton an american musical #Anthony Ramos #anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos smut #anthony ramos imagine #john laurens imagine #hamimagines #tango

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milk-karton-kids · 5 years

Text

Return to the Winchester Mansion

Hey! This is a short fic I wrote based off the season premiere of BFU Supernatural Season 5!

Pairing: Shyan

Headcannon: Shyan, Demon Shane

Rating: PG (so far)

Word count: 5K (so far)

Read it on Wattpad: ^-^

Read it here:

The Winchester Mansion. The very first place Shane and Ryan had ever investigated, and the place where Shane had first decided that he had wanted to do this- ghost hunting or whatever- with Ryan for as long as they could. The crew had drove to the location from their office in LA, the van crammed full of people and filming equipment.

They were all chatty, cracking jokes, sharing embarrassing stories and making fun of each other. They stopped for dinner at a McDonalds, and as a result, the van smelled like fried food for the rest of the drive. At one point, Ryan and Shane had started throwing fries at the people in the front seats.

By nightfall, the crew reached the location. Through the window, Shane could see the sprawling mansion once again, and it reminded him of his first impression of it, and how touristy it was. The van pulled up and the crew piled out, and started to unload the equipment. Grateful to stretch his long legs, Shane walked around a bit.

He made his way over to Ryan as the crew started to set up.

"Are you ready?"

Ryan looked up into Shane's eyes, and Shane tried to push the feeling of his gut tightening away.

"No, but we're going to do this anyway."

Shane shot him a grin, and together they made their way up the sidewalk.

Standing outside the front door, they both took a moment to gaze at the giant maze of rooms.

"Back where it all began," Ryan said. "Back to the spot where we started ghoul hunting."

"We came as boys, and now we return as men," Shane added.

"I'm happy to be back. It is dressed up for Halloween right now, so that's going to add a little bit of spooky fun to it."

"Yeah, but that makes it almost better, cause, Jack-o-lanterns, everybody loves 'em, right?"

"You have anything to say to her, Shane? The lady of the house?"

Shane had a lot to say, just not to Sarah Winchester.

"Yeah, let's tango baby! Let's dance!"

Except there was someone he'd rather be tangoing and dancing with.

Shane didn't really know when it started- the feeling of solidarity between Ryan and him. He'd been invited onto Buzzfeed Unsolved after the first few episodes of True Crime had been filmed, only knowing Ryan as a friendly coworker. However, in the Buzzfeed industry, that was still fairly well.

Shane enjoyed conspiracy theories as much as the next person. He loved mystery- and he loved taking down ridiculous claims. He also liked to take down not-so-ridiculous claims, like the fact that ghosts were real (true, he'd met a fair few) and demons existed (also true, he was living proof of that).

He also enjoyed hiding this truth from Ryan as best as he could. There was something thrilling about walking on the edge, knowing that one mistake, one slip-up, could possibly ruin everything between him and Ryan. And whatever that was, Shane wanted more of it.

Reflecting on this, Shane followed Ryan into the house.

"Man, it does feel like we're coming back home," Ryan said in earnest.

"Yeah I do feel... I feel right being here."

Probably because this is where all my feelings started to manifest, Shane thought to himself.

They shut the door behind them.

"Well, in case any of you needed a reminder, this place is a twisting nightmare."

Did you mean: My feelings for you? Shane asked in his head.

Together they walked down a dark hallway, the camera crew behind them.

Ryan had a flashlight out, and started speaking to the darkness.

"Hello? Just so all of you know in this house, we've been here before, my name is Ryan..."

"Uh, my name's Shane," Shane jumped in, startling out of his thoughts.

"And, uh, we're just here to talk, so if you wanna just come out, maybe show yourself-"

"-You know, just chill here, and hang out with us!"

"Yeah. Oh great, I'm already lost."

Shane repressed a snicker, but his eyes were darting over Ryan's back, taking in his slight build and unsteady posture. He could tell Ryan was already scared. Good. Shane liked Ryan when Ryan was scared.

They joked around a bit more before heading to the area they would film the main segments about the history and lore of the house, and of course, where Ryan would say "This week on the season premiere of Buzzfeed Unsolved, we re-investigate the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose California as part of our ongoing investigation into the question 'Are ghosts real?'" to which Shane would shake his head as the scene cut to him.

They pulled up two chairs in a rather cluttered room, set them next to each other, facing slightly inward, while the camera crew set up their equipment.

Ryan started going through his script, talking about how this was the first site they'd been to, and about how tonight "We're actually going to sleep here this time, uh, I was a little too chicken for that," (in talking about when they visited before).

Shane gave an awkward little chuckle.

"We're going to sleep individually, too," Ryan added, jerking a thumb in Shane's direction.

"I love it," Shane lied.

"So you'll actually sleep tonight-"

"-I'll get a great night's sleep-"

"-I won't, probably, I'm going to be in her bedroom, trying very hard to, eh, not die," Ryan chuckled. "I think I'm just gonna count-"

"What's she gonna do?" interjected Shane.

"I don't know!" Ryan shrugged, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"She's just gonna rip out your spine?" Shane definitely had not daydreamed about doing that to Ryan before. "The worst she'll do is give you a little kiss on the cheek or something." Like I want to.

"I'm trying to challenge myself mentally this season," Ryan said, directing his attention back towards the camera. "Because last season-"

"A little too cocky," Shane interjected, lacing his fingers together and leaning back. He was ready to see Ryan start freaking out again. He missed it.

"I got a little too, uh, calloused."

"Yeah. You stopped believing in ghosts, I think," Shane provoked.

"I did not stop believing in ghosts-"

"-Maybe-"

"-I'm used to hunting ghouls after a while-"

"-if you really believed in them, you'd still be pretty scared, but-"

"Anyways, let's break down some history, huh?"

"Yeah," Shane said, looking away.

"You ready?" Ryan asked, prompting a transition in the final video cut, but also, it seemed to Shane, noticing that there was something on Shane's mind. He had slipped a little, and it was noticeable.

"Oh yeah!" Shane answered enthusiastically, nodding.

"Then let's get into it."

"Okay."

They waited a bit for the camera to stop filming, and then put the chairs back.

"Ready to start walking around?" Ryan asked.

Shane nodded, and they started to make their way to the hay house. Up the switch-back stairs they went, camera rolling, into the attic, which Shane immediately recognized.

"Well, we're back," Ryan said cheerfully.

"The Ghoul Brothers," Shane said.

There was a moment of silence.

"We've upgraded to Ghoul Brothers, now?" Ryan joked, shining the flashlight on Shane's face. He pretended to cringe from the brightness so Ryan would move the light off his face and hopefully not notice the blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks.

"Yeah," was all Shane said.

Ryan moved around and settled into a spot for the moment.

"Whoever lived in the house, or may be in this house now, or in the past, we know this was one of the more, original, places when this place was first built, and not uh, uuh, a weird little fun house that it is now. Now that you know that we know who you are..."

"But do they know that we know that..."

"They know that we know-"

"-that we know who they are?"

There was a pause.

"That's the trick," Shane smiled, shining the flashlight in Ryan's now-confused (but adorable) face.

Shane squatted down, and Ryan, after questioning, it, followed suit.

"If there's anyone in here with us, let us know. Say something."

The two of them waited for whatever would or wouldn't say something.

Shane could already tell that there were no ghosts in the room at the moment.

"Twenty seconds."

Shane's face screwed up, and Ryan noticed.

"You think something's funny?" he asked.

Shane's composure broke and he let out a small chuckle, saying "I like how you give them a little warning, 'Twenty seconds left, get your shit together'."

Shane got up and Ryan mumbled something he couldn't quite understand. Ryan called out a "buh-bye!" as they started to exited the room. "That was dissapointin- Ah!"

Ryan startled at a fake black bird that'd suddenly be caught in his flashlight beam. Upon realizing what it was, he laughed nervously and put a hand up to his forehead only to then bend over and place his hands on his knees. "Ah, shit."

Meanwhile Shane was laughing.

"Well that's going to happen a couple of times tonight," Ryan admitted. "Just, there's, there's Halloween stuff around, we got, a crow, or a raven-?"

"It's Ryan's biggest fear."

Ryan laughed again, and they headed back down the switch-back stairs.

From there, Ryan led them to some of the more visually popular places in the building, like the stairs that lead to nowhere, the door that opened to reveal a bricked-up wall, and the door that lead to a drop since it was a few stories up.

"One of the, uh, greater novelties of this home, if you want to call it that," Ryan said, looking out the door and then into Shane's phone's camera. "Except this novelty could kill you, so..."

Ryan leaned over and looked down.

"It really goes there," Shane commented.

"Ooooh," Ryan said, making a spooky noise.

"Yeah, careful, man," Shane titted. He knew he could survive a drop like that, but Ryan? Ryan was just human, and human shells were frail.

"I just don't think any ghost is going to open this door and be like 'woeoeoeow' and fall out like Wild E Coyote."

God, Ryan was so cute.

"'Going to ghost work, honey, see you la-wooooah, not again!" Shane jumped in.

Ryan laughed, and Shane felt that all-too-familiar tugging sensation in his gut.

Together with the crew, they walked around the house some more, getting some extra footage of the house to show while Ryan's voice over played.

Through this transition in Ryan's narrative, it would bring the audience to the seance room next, and therefore was where they headed after gathering some more footage of random rooms and hallways.

The walls of the seance room were made of long and thin wooden panels that were painted a light whitish color, though it was hard to tell in the dark with only flashlights. There were a number of iron hooks on the walls, and also a fair amount of doors. And, for the season, there were also many spooky Halloween decorations about.

Ryan talked about their visit to this room last time they were there, and Shane commented on how they weren't as good ghost hunters back then as they were now. Personally, Shane felt like at least a good portion of that improvement had come from working together over the years.

"But now, we're actually going to conduct a legitimate seance!"

"Let's rock and roll!" cheered Shane.

Ryan started to set up the ouija board, which Shane attempted to help with, but Ryan was in a very particular mood, and didn't want Shane "messing up" the set-up, even though last time they used one Ryan had to google how it was done.

You would think as a demon, I would know how it's set up, and therefore you'd let me set it up, Shane thought to himself, because of course he couldn't say it out loud.

When Ryan was done setting up the board, allowing Shane to add his rice krispie treat to "appease" the spirits (Shane knew ghost didn't like food, but demons who inhabited a human host did), Shane pulled up two chairs on either side of the table.

The camera was set up so that Ryan would be in the left of the shot and Shane would be on the right.

Ryan held out his hands on either side of the board towards Shane.

Shane copied him.

"Let's do it."

Shane flipped his hands over and slapped them down into Ryan's. Thankfully Shane had grown used to controlling bodily functions of his host, so his hands weren't freezing cold. Also thankfully while his body slept, his mind did not, so he was able to maintain body heat when Ryan and him shared a bed. Which was kind of a lot.

"Alright, that was a firm grip," Ryan commented, to Shane's amusement.

"Okay, spirits of this room, we're here to communicate with you-"

"Yes."

"We are welcoming-"

"Yes."

"And we, uh, have nothing but good intentions and good vibes-"

"Yeah."

"We have some, uh, food for you, here-

"A rice krispie treat, a treat from the future."

"-we also, uh, have this uh, this, this, board here, in fact, why don't I just show you how it works."

Ryan grabbed the planchette, letting go of Shane's hands, started moving it around the board.

"See?"

"You see that? Oooooh look how fun that is!"

"Hello, H-e-l-l-o."

"Ooooh, cool," Shane responded, looking deviously into the camera. He could move it, but so far over the seasons he'd liked to take things slow, only making a few things move or speak here and there. Nothing to give Ryan substantial proof of ghost, or in this case, demons.

"I'm going to move the rice krispie treat off the board so it doesn't get sticky," Ryan said aloud, putting it on the table, where Shane immediately picked it up, taking a bite as he stared into Ryan's eyes.

"That's for them."

"See how that works?" Shane put the rice krispie treat down. "I just want them to know it's food."

He leaned back and started to dramatically rub his belly. "Mmmm! Yum-yum!"

Ryan lost his composure, and Shane started to laugh along with him. It felt good.

"Alright, here we go," Ryan offered his hands again once the two of them had managed to settle down. "If there's anyone here with us, you can use this board, you can, uh, take some of the food, y-you can move these candles, you can say something, you can touch something-"

"This is all for you."

They paused for a few seconds.

"Sarah, if you're hearing us right now, we'd like to speak to you in particular, so, uh, I'd like it very much to meet you."

"Have some of the rice krispie."

Ryan and Shane continued to hold hands around the table in silence.

"Can you say your name?"

Another pause.

"Is there anything you'd like us to know?"

More silence.

"Is there anything you're scared of?"

There was still no response.

"Well, that's that," Ryan conceded, disappointed, and broke the connection with Shane, who clapped his hands loudly.

"Nothing," Ryan sighed while Shane reached for the rice krispie treat and ate the rest in one large bite, wiping his hands while once again maintaining eye-contact with Ryan, then folding his hands out towards Ryan. Ryan started to laugh, and Shane was happy he'd made Ryan feel even a little better.

The next room they headed to was some room full of glass. Shane didn't really understand why it was here, but the whole house was weird, and he was a gay demon, so he didn't question it too much.

"Well, Sarah, we're here, in your, well, what I would assume is one of your more, uh, favorite rooms."

"And if you're thinking 'Well, I'm not gonna talk to these guys', please, no, we're gonna be here all night! The sooner you, uh, get it out of the way, heck, if you do it now, this guy will go, he'll go runnin'," Shane teased.

"Whoever is in this room, whether it be Sarah or someone who worked in this mansion, let us know you're here."

"Shatter every piece of stained glass in this room," challenged Shane.

"Okay," Ryan responded, trying to rope him back in. "I'm going to give you a minute," he continued talking to the ghosts, "just uh, just uh, dealer's choice here, do whatever you want. Here we go, one minute of silence coming up, starting now."

Shane had a flashlight in one hand, which he shone on Ryan and his phone attached to the gopro in the other. Ryan had his own flashlight and a microphone attached to a box-shaped gadget. Strapped to both their chests were cameras.

Shane took his light off Ryan and used it to film around the room in the dark.

"I will say that I don't feel like I'm being watched right now." Ryan was looking directly into Shane's face, so Shane's camera angle was coming from a bit underneath Ryan's gaze.

"No?" he asked.

Ryan started to shake his head, and Shane started to ask if he had felt anything in other places when a noise caught their attention, and Ryan's head whipped to the side.

"Who was that? Who just spoke?"

Shane glanced down at his phone screen before flicking his eyes back up to Ryan, who was looking around in bewilderment. Uncomfortable, he started to laugh nervously, which caused Shane to laugh at him.

"That old familiar face."

Ryan continued to laugh.

He had missed that face.

Shane made sure to capture the moment with his gopro.

Ryan dropped the creepy face with a sigh. "If that was anybody, can you say it again?"

Ryan blinked heavily and asked who had said something.

"I heard what sounded like a little whisper," Shane told him, pronouncing the "h" in "whisper" clearly.

"Yeah-"

"Did you hear a little whisper?"

"Yeah, are you, I just, I think you're appeasing me right now, I don't think you actually heard anything."

"It's a little bit of both, I did hear what appeared to sound like a little whisper." He was still pronouncing the "h". "I don't think it was a ghost," he clarified.

"It was a female voice," Ryan argued. "If there, whoever that was, can you say it again? If that was anybody, in fact?"

Shane had his flashlight trained on Ryan once more.

"You don't have to be scared of us, I assure you, I am more scared of you than you are of me."

Shane wondered how scared of him Ryan would be if he knew the truth.

Ryan took a step and continued to look around, but didn't seem to find anything.

"That's it, folks," Shane concluded.

"Very lovely glass-"

"Love the glass."

"-Thank you for showing us-"

"Nice glass."

"-that's some really good glass you got there."

"That's some good ass glass-"

"That's good glass behind that glass-"

"I'm gonna steal that glass."

They paused.

"I won't, I respect this house," Shane laughed.

Ryan laughed with him, even though Shane knew Ryan didn't get the full extent of his joke.

Together with the crew they exited the room, heading to what was known as "The Witch's Cap".

"Oh this is cool!" Shane exclaimed upon seeing it. "Oh, oh I love this! Can I sleep here? Stand in the middle, speak upward," he commanded Ryan.

"Hello- oh! Oooh!"

"Yeah, right there, right?"

"Yeah, that is good."

"Alright let's see if I can also- hello? Hello? Hello?"

"Yeah."

"Hi?"

Ryan shot Shane a glance, but Shane continued to mess around with the acoustics of the room until Ryan practically dragged him away to sit on a bench.

"Uh, we're here to communicate with whoever is in this room right now-"

"He's invited his little spirit box here, he's gonna let it rip and you're gonna hate it," Shane assured. The high level of frequencies and constant shifting channels gave him a headache.

"Three, two, one-"

"YAHTZEE!"

Ryan turned it on, cringing at the suddenly onset of noise and letting out a swear, messing with the settings until something clearly said "drop those off".

Shane glanced at Ryan and asked if it said "take your clothes off".

Ryan ignored him while the spirit box continued it's chatter, which Shane also commented on.

"What the fuck is going on in this room?" Ryan finally acknowledged after putting in earbuds.

"Can you say our names back to us?" Shane asked, knowing that was one of Ryan's go-to questions. Ryan titled his head down to fiddle with the box again, and it gave a short pause. "What was that?" he asked, looking up at Shane.

"Can you say the name of the woman who built this house?" asked Ryan. "Or, if you are the woman who built this house, can you say your name?"

The spirit box spat out some chunks of noise, but nothing either of them could discern, until-

"Who is Patrick?"

Ryan and Shane looked at each other. "It sounded like 'Patrick'." Ryan commented.

"'Well I'm not Sarah Winchester, but, it's Patrick!'"

Ryan started to talk over a phrase that came through, stopping in time to clearly hear the word "ungrateful". "What was that?" Ryan asked, eyes widening. "Alright, who was just speaking the past two times? It was very clear. Can you say what your name is?"

The spirit box spat out more nonsense.

"What?"

"Optimal."

"Optimal?" Shane repeated.

"What's optimal?" Ryan asked.

They waited.

"You're not making this easy, I'll tell you that-" Ryan started to say more, but what sounded like a scream interrupted him.

"Ooh a scream-"

"What the fuck was that?"

"-They're excited Ryan." Shane turned his head towards the camera. "Don't bother with Ryan right now, not worth it, wait 'til he's alone."

A deep voice came on.

"Woah," Ryan blinked.

"What'd it say?"

"I don't know."

Shane started to laugh and make fun of Ryan's reaction.

"Well it was a full sentence-"

"It wasn't a full sentence!"

"It was like three words!"

Shane started to imitate the spirit box to mock Ryan. "Wooooah, a whole sentence!"

"It said like two-to-three words!"

Shane continued making spirit box noises.

The box, meanwhile, said something along the lines of "Okay, kid." Ryan looked up at Shane, but Shane was watching his phone screen as it filmed.

"Alright," Ryan said, "Hasta luego, turning this off." Ryan looked at Shane again.

"Well, I'll tell you what, ghosts, if any of you are protective of this room, not gonna do it on purpose, but there's a good chance I'm gonna fart in here."

Ryan continued to stare at Shane before suggesting they move to the next filming location, the basement.

When they got to the top of the basement stairs, the crew started pulling out the equipment the duo would need for their solo investigations. This included, among other things, a camera strapped to their head, pointed at their faces. As was custom, Shane was up first.

"You look great, man" Ryan commented sarcastically when Shane was fully decked-out and ready to head into the dark of the basement by himself.

"Thank you! What do I do down there?"

"Try and find Clyde," Ryan said. Clyde was a ghost he would introduce the audience to in his voice-over section.

"Ooh."

"Well, adios," Ryan bid him.

"Yeah, I'll see you later, man," Shane called back, heading down the stairs. Ryan closed the door behind Shane, turning to lean back on it, arms crossed. "And now we wait."

Meanwhile, Shane walked around in the basement yelling for Clyde.

"Ooh boy, I forgot about these low ass ceilings down here." Shane tried to duck but ended up knocking some of the equipment off his head.

Ryan stayed upstairs talking to the camera crew while Shane walked around to conduct his personal investigation.

After his ten minutes was up, Ryan opened the door and called him back, but Shane didn't answer.

"I'm not playing your game. I know exactly what you're doing right now. Not gonna happen, bud. I'm not going to come walkin' down there to find you. I know what happened last time I was down here."

Defeated, Shane returned back up to the main level of the house, where Ryan would take his place.

"Well you look great, you look ready. Get down there, have a good time!" Shane coaxed Ryan when they had traded gear. Ryan started to head downstairs, and Shane turned to the camera to pull a face.

When he got downstairs, Ryan started to talk to the darkness and Shane continued to talk to the camera.

"What if I just make nonsense noises right now?" Ryan asked the ghosts, proceeding to do so.

"What the fuck is going on down there?" Shane asked the camera. He heard more strange nonsense noises from downstairs. "I think we've lost him," Shane cracked a smile.

"Ah! What the fuck was that? My fucking gopro thing fell off... I think I'm going to sit down, I'm sitting down."

"This sounds like it's really escalating," Shane commented.

"I'm going to turn on the spirit box now."

"There's that spirit box."

"I. Hate. This."

"Did he say 'I love you'?"

"My name is Ryan, can you say my name back to me?"

"'I love you' 'Who's this?'"

Ryan continued to talk to the spirit box. Shane peaked his head into the stairwell.

"RYAN!"

"What?"

"TWO MINUTE WARNING!"

"Great."

Ryan continued to talk to the darkness.

"Alright he can't do two minutes, come up!" Shane called, opening the door again.

"What?"

"You FAILED."

"Could I come up?"

"Yes!" Shane barked.

"Oh, thank god," Ryan replied almost cheerily. "Yes," he whispered, coming up the stairs.

"You couldn't do two minutes of silence, could ya?"

"Wha?"

"I heard you talking."

"I was talking quietly."

"I don't care. You talk to hide from the silence."

Ryan sighed.

"You know you do."

"I was merely trying to communicate."

Shane rolled his eyes.

"Get ready for an all-night nightmare now."

The crew moved to the witch's cap to set up the cameras that would be trained on Shane as he slept for the few remaining hours of the night. When all was set up, Shane laid out his sleeping bag.

Ryan came over to stand above him.

"Are you going to make it?" Shane joked.

Ryan shrugged. "Uh, I dunno."

"Well, you're welcome to come running here crying like a little baby if you need."

"Thanks man, but I think I'm good."

That didn't stop Ryan from writing down directions from the witch's cap to Sarah's bedroom, however.

When the crew was done setting up for Ryan in there, they wished him luck and headed out to sleep in the motel they'd booked.

Shane had his phone out and filmed a little vlog before attempting to go to sleep. Ryan filmed around the room and also him using the spirit box.

After fooling around on social media for a bit and singing "Mama Mia" to himself, Shane put his phone down and zipped up his sleeping bag to let his body catch up on rest. Ryan got a surprise visitor from the caretaker, which scared the shit out of him.

Shane had been waiting to see if Ryan would come running into his room, scared of something or another, looking for comfort. In fact, it was what he'd been dreaming about all day. Now that the time was right, however, Shane wasn't having his moment.

"It was foolish to think anything would happen," Shane whispered to himself, and shut his eyes.

He heard a creak.

Sitting up on one elbow, Shane looked around.

"Ryan?" he whispered.

There was no response.

Shane took one more sweep of the room with his eyes before settling down again.

Another creak had him sitting up again.

"Ryan!" he hissed.

He heard soft footsteps approaching.

Grabbing the flashlight, Shane shined it down the hall. Ryan cringed from the sudden bright light.

"What are you doing?" Shane whispered.

"I got scared," Ryan admitted.

Shane rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Ryan shrugged, and Shane noticed he had his sleeping bag with him.

"Come on," Shane motioned, moving his sleeping bag over.

Ryan put his stuff down next to Shane and crawled back into his sleeping bag.

"Are we putting this in the video?" Shane asked jokingly.

"No," Ryan sniffed.

"Wait, are you- are you crying?"

"No," Ryan sniffed again.

"Damn, something must have really scared you, huh?" Shane asked.

Ryan didn't respond.

"Ryan?"

Shane heard Ryan sniffle again. He wasn't sure what to do, so he waited. However, so did Ryan.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"I didn't get scared," Ryan said quickly, and Shane realized he was telling the truth. Something else was going on that he didn't understand. Something that didn't have to do with the house, with ghosts, with the show, maybe not even to do with them. Maybe something had happened and it just happened to be now, and Shane just happened to be the only one around. Maybe Ryan just needed a friend.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Shane."

"Goodnight, Ryan."

Neither of them went back to sleep.

*-*-*-*-*

When morning came, Ryan and Shane broke down the cameras themselves and brought the equipment to the front door, where they were meeting the crew. It was still dark outside, and they stood in the early morning chill filming the ending of the video.

"Another investigation in the books, uh, adios, Winchester House," Ryan spun his phone around trying to get the house in the shot behind them. "Where- where even is it?" A car horn honked in the background.

"It's behind us-"

"I can't even, I can't even think."

"-it's pretty large."

"Yeah, uh. Yeah. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah," Shane agreed. "Sounds good."

The crew packed up the equipment while Shane and Ryan climbed into the back of the van. Ryan was still filming the view from out Shane's window.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" Shane asked, looking at what Ryan was filming, everything that had led up to Ryan laying down next to him running through his head like a video on loop.

"Maybe later," Ryan answered, stopping the video and turning off his phone as the crew piled in and drove away.

#buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved supernatural #bfu #shane madej #ryan bergara #Shyan #shyan fic #demon shane #fanfic #winchester mansion #bfu season 5 #bfu supernatural season 5

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dailyironfamily · 6 years

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day 22 - pacific rim au

Day twenty-two of the November Fic Challenge is a Pacific Rim AU! My one hundred percent self indulgent prompt for the list, I love PacRim AUs. Established Pepper/Tony with future Pepper/Tony/Rhodey, featuring the boys as Jaeger pilots and Pepper as a Shatterdome tech.

Tony and Rhodey share everything. They have no secrets, haven’t since they became best friends in the Jaeger Academy, and that’s even before they started drifting together. Tony trusts Rhodey with his life, and he knows Rhodey feels the same about him. So why the hell is Rhodey being so shifty lately?

“This is the third time you’ve pushed back testing our Conn-Pod upgrades this week,” Tony says, frowning even though Rhodey can’t see him over the phone. “What gives?”

“Sorry, Tony. I’ve just been real busy,” Rhodey replies, apologetic, and normally Tony would believe him, but Rhodey hasn’t said what he’s been busy with at all. “Next week we’ll get it done, I swear.”

“What if a kaiju attacks in the meantime?”

“Then we’ll test the upgrades on the fly. Stop worrying so much, Tones. Take Pepper out for dinner tonight or something. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Rhodey―” Tony scowls at his phone as the bastard actually hangs up on him. Fine then, if Rhodey wants to be secretive, Tony’ll just have to figure it out himself.

Pepper meets him in the mess hall for dinner, which is hardly a date, but she’s been working late this week too. Tony snags an extra brownie from the food line and slides it across the table at her as he asks,

“Has Rhodey been acting weird around you?”

“Define weird,” Pepper answers, taking the brownie anyway.

“He keeps putting off this testing. We’ve drifted a million times before, and you know he trusts your work implicitly. So what’s he worried about?”

“Maybe he really is just busy,” she suggests. She eats her dessert first, which is one of the many reasons Tony loves her. “Did you ask him?”

“Yeah, he says he’s busy too. It seems fishy, though.”

“Have you considered that whatever it is, maybe it’s none of your business?”

Tony snorts. Loudly. “Good joke, Pepper.”

“I wasn’t joking.” She licks the last remnants of brownie from the paper, then scrunches it up and drops it on her tray. “Just because you’re basically the same person doesn’t mean you have to actually share everything. He can have secrets.”

“Well I don’t like it,” Tony says, pouting. “How am I supposed to fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

Pepper reaches across the table and takes his hand in hers. “Not everything has to be fixed, Tony.”

“Have you met me? Engineer, remember?”

“I know, darling.” She gives his hand a squeeze, then draws back and starts on the rest of her meal. “Whatever it is, I’m sure Rhodey will tell you eventually. If it’s important.”

Tony sighs, but he can’t help being worried. If it’s bad enough that Rhodey doesn’t want to drift with him right now, it’s got to be pretty damn bad. He just hopes it’s not friendship-ruining bad.

Sparring has never been Tony’s favorite. Rhodey was a Jumphawk pilot before they got tapped for the Jaeger program, and he’s always been in much better shape than Tony. Rhodey says sparring practice isn’t about winning and losing, it’s about being in sync with your partner, but of course Rhodey would say that, he always wins.

Today, however, his focus is off. Tony gets in a few good hits with his bo staff before backing off, looking at Rhodey with a frown.

“Seriously? Whatever this is, it’s throwing off your fighting game too?”

Rhodey huffs and picks himself up off the mat, resetting his stance. “Whatever what is?”

“Whatever’s got you so jumpy around me!”

Rhodey sighs, lowering his staff. “Nothing’s throwing off my game, okay? You just got lucky. Now come on and let’s get back to it so I can kick your ass.”

Tony just drops his staff, not wanting to fight if Rhodey is going to keep avoiding the problem. “Rhodey, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re not acting like yourself!” They’re getting louder now, and a few people look over at them, but Tony ignores them all. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Rhodey says, taking a step closer. “Which is why I’m telling you there’s nothing wrong.”

“So stop canceling our Conn-Pod test.”

“I’m not canceling them for fun, Tony,” Rhodey snaps, a little annoyed now.

Tony knows he should probably back off, but he’s already in too deep. “Then why are you running around like some guy sneaking off behind his girlfriend’s back?”

“What, you think I’ve got some secret other drift partner? We’re not dating, Tony.”

“Yeah, well, good!” Tony grabs his staff from the floor, scowling as he pushes past Rhodey out of the ring. “I wouldn’t want to date you anyway! Maybe I don’t even want to be your drift partner, if you’re gonna lie to me all the time.”

Rhodey doesn’t say anything or try to stop him, so Tony just keeps going, dropping his staff with the rest of the equipment and walking right out the door.

Tony really messed up this time. Pepper keeps pressing him about the Conn-Pod testing, but Rhodey’s spent the last two days off base and it’s probably all Tony’s fault. Definitely all Tony’s fault. He needs to apologize, but he can’t if Rhodey keeps avoiding him.

“Can you like, pull rank and get him to come back for testing?” Tony asks Pepper that second evening.

“You really want to drift with him like this?” she points out, eyebrow raised. “The neural connection will be all over the place.”

“That’s the perfect opportunity to fix the bridge, right? At least he’ll know I’m sincere when I apologize.”

Pepper sighs but says, “I’ll tell him we need to check the upgrades before the end of the week.”

For a while Tony thinks even that won’t be enough, but Rhodey shows up two days later, apologizing to Pepper and the rest of their J-Tech team. He and Tony finally suit up, and Tony keeps throwing nervous glances at him.

“Rhodey...” he starts, when they’ve got everything but their helmets on, but Rhodey interrupts before he can say anything else.

“Save it, Tony,” Rhodey replies, but he doesn’t sound mad, just...resigned. “See if you still want to apologize after this.”

Tony frowns, puzzled by the odd comment, but they’re putting on their helmets and hooking into the Conn-Pod and he can’t ask anything else about it now without their conversation being broadcast to the rest of the team.

“Whiskey Tango,” Pepper’s voice comes over the P.A. system. “Ready to initiate?”

“Ready,” Tony and Rhodey say at the same time.

“Pilots are a go. Initializing neural handshake.”

Tony closes his eyes, lets his mind empty. Pepper’s still speaking over the P.A., running through the steps of the test, but until he has to do something himself, he lets himself float. Drifting is almost like being underwater, but with someone holding your hand the entire time. It’s not a physical presence so much as knowing that if you close your hand, your partner’s hand will be there, always.

When he closes his hand this time, Rhodey isn’t there.

The flood of memories takes him by surprise. Him and Pepper, laughing in the lab with Bruce and Jane. Pepper in Mission Control with Marshal Fury. Tony working on schematics for a new pulse weapon for Whiskey Tango. The two of them stealing kisses in a corridor after a mission briefing, the first time he ever went out for a real kaiju fight. They’re memories of him but they’re not his memories―it’s like looking at a recording.

“Ranger Rhodes,” he hears from very far away, “do not chase the rabbit, I repeat, do not chase the rabbit or we will have to abort the test.”

He ignores it, the words insignificant when what he needs is to find Rhodey. These are Rhodey’s memories, and these feelings that are engulfing him, that threaten to pull him down into the abyss, they’re all Rhodey’s.

He tears himself away from the swirling memories, looking for Rhodey in the here and now. There’s a bloom of anger, of fear, dark and murky in the ocean of the drift, and Tony runs for it, reaches out. When he closes his hand again, this time he’s got him, Rhodey’s hand clasped tightly in his, anchoring him.

“Cut off the handshake!” he shouts out loud, hoping the techs in Mission Control heard him.

Seconds later the neural connection snaps, and Tony’s left feeling cold and alone, his hand empty. He rips his helmet off and gasps for real air, pulling himself out of the harness without waiting for anyone to come help. He runs to Rhodey’s side, helping him down, even though he feels like strangling him himself.

“You idiot,” he hisses, steadying Rhodey as he steps off the platform, but Rhodey’s not listening to him, apologizing on repeat.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to clear my head, I swear, that’s what I’ve been doing these past several days,” he babbles, grasping for Tony’s hand. “You were never supposed to find out―”

“How could I miss something like that!” Tony may be oblivious to certain things, but Rhodey’s feelings in the drift had never been clearer. “You love me.”

“Don’t,” Rhodey whispers, looking frightened.

“You love me and my girlfriend.” Tony’s not sure which is more impossible, that Rhodey cares for him like that, or that two people do.

“I’m sorry,” Rhodey says again, trying to pull away, but Tony doesn’t let go.

“Stop apologizing! It’s okay.”

“What do you mean, it’s okay? You can tell me I’m being a creep, tell me to leave you alone, whatever you need.”

Tony has no idea why Rhodey thinks he’d say something like that. “What are you talking about? You’re not a creep.”

“Last week you said you didn’t even want to be my drift partner anymore!”

In the silence that follows that statement, the door to the Conn-Pod is thrown open, Jaeger techs and emergency personnel pouring in. He hears the tell-tale click of Pepper’s high heels on the steel floor and says,

“We’re fine! Everybody out except Pepper!”

There’s some grumbling, but his expression must be serious enough that everyone leaves. Pepper hurries over to them, giving Tony a worried look.

“Is everything all right?” She looks down at Rhodey, who’s leaning against the wall. “Jim, you were barely two minutes into the test before you went chasing the rabbit awful hard. What happened?”

“I found out why he’s been avoiding the test,” Tony says, but he doesn’t say any more than that. This is Rhodey’s secret to tell, if he’s going to tell it.

Slowly, Rhodey slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. Pepper frowns and goes to kneel beside him, taking his gloved hand in her own.

“I’ve been…struggling with some feelings,” Rhodey admits, glancing up at Tony. “Last week I figured out what they were and I didn’t want Tony to know. I didn’t know what to do because I was sure if we drifted, Tony’d find out right away.”

“What feelings?” Pepper asks, confused. Tony sits down on the floor next to them, putting a comforting hand on Rhodey’s leg.

“I really like you, Pepper. And Tony.” Rhodey glances between them, then sighs. “It’s more than just ‘like.’ So I panicked. And I’m still panicking now, because Tony is being really weird about this.”

Pepper looks at him, and he holds his hands up. “He means I’m not mad at him and he doesn’t understand it.”

“Why would we be mad?” Pepper asks, turning her attention back to Rhodey, confused again.

“Because it’s weird?” Rhodey says. “Every time I drift with Tony I...see things. I know all about you two. It’s inappropriate, especially knowing that I...”

“Love us?” Pepper says, quiet.

Rhodey just nods. “So I understand if you want to find a new partner, Tony, seriously.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony says, incredulous. “Do you know we have the highest compatibility of anyone in the Shatterdome? It’d be idiotic to break up.”

“But―”

“Besides,” Tony keeps going, not letting Rhodey protest, “it’d be weird to break up as partners and then ask you if you wanted to go on a date with us.”

Rhodey just stares at him. After a long moment of silence, he says, “What?”

“This Friday, maybe? Dinner somewhere that’s not the Mess Hall.”

“You didn’t even ask Pepper―”

“You’re not the only one who can read Tony’s mind,” Pepper says with a slight smile, glancing over at him. “I know he’s had a crush on you since the Academy. We’ve talked about it.”

“And you?”

Pepper shrugs. “I think you’re a good man, James. I wouldn’t have anyone else protecting Tony out there.”

Rhodey falls silent again, looking at the two of them. “You two are absolutely ridiculous.”

“And you love us for it,” Tony reminds him. He stands, then holds out a hand to help Rhodey up. “No secrets in the drift.”

Rhodey stares at his hand, then takes it and stands up as well. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Pepper leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “See you for dinner Friday? Tony’s paying.”

Tony just grins and says, “So how often have you seen Pepper naked in my head?” just to see Rhodey squirm.

“It’s much better in person,” Pepper assures Rhodey as he sputters. “Now get out of here so the docs can do a psych eval, okay?”

“This is going to be one hell of a report,” Rhodey mutters, shaking his head. Tony slaps him on the back as he passes by him to the door and says,

“I’m sure Fury’s read worse.”

#pepperhony #pepper potts #james rhodes #tony stark #pepperrhodeytony #fanfic #au #*mine #november fic challenge

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huhnerhexen · 6 years

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1-56! every question

1. Is there a boy/girl in your life?- yes!! My boyfriend, Jack! He has a tag on my blog that’s #bean2. Think of the last person who hurt you, do you forgive them?- I think the last person who hurt me was my best friend growing up, and I forgive her. We were both in a really toxic place and it damaged our relationship beyond repair, but she’s doing a lot better now and so am I 3. What do you think of when you hear the word “meow”- my cat, Kramer, he always sits and eats breakfast with me in the morning4. What’s something you really want right now?- a better back and top surgery5. Are you afraid of falling in love?- no!6. Do you like the beach?- I prefer swimming pools, but the beach isn’t bad7. Have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?- if futons are included, yes!8. What’s the background on your cell?- a picture of my boyfriend in a pastel pink hoodie, sipping tea, with a cat on his lap, in his kickboxing hand wraps9. Name the last four beds you were sat on- my bed, Jack’s bed, my mom’s bed, Jack and I’s bed at the house we dog sit at.10. Honestly, are things going the way you planned?- not at all, I dropped out of university halfway through my first year, and I have no idea what I want to do career-wise. I’m dating my highschool best friend, which I wouldn’t have seen coming in highschool, but I’m so happy it happened! Also turns out I’m trans? didn’t see that one coming either…11. Who was the last person who’s number you added in your phone?- Jules, one of the people I work with12. Which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?- emotional, hands down. I’d go into anaphylactic shock again a hundred times over before I went through the pain of losing my grandpa again.13. Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?- an art museum!!14. Are you tired?- I’m running on 4 hours of sleep today, I am very tired15. How long have you known your first phone contact?- since birth! My first phone contact is my dad16. Would you ever consider getting back together with one of your exes?- only one of them; long distance killed the relationship. But I’m so very in love with Jack that he’d have to die, and then I’d need 7-8 years of bereavement before I’d consider dating again.17. If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?- I know I have the right person, but weddings are crazy expensive.18. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?- a solid zero19. Is there a certain quote you live by?- “it takes two to tango”20. What’s on your mind?- my mom is screaming and I should have stayed in my room instead of coming down to eat…21. Do you have any tattoos?- three22. Next time will you kiss someone on the lips?- I’m not sure what this question is asking me…23. Who are you texting?- no one currently, but it’s usually Jack24. Have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and then it did?- I mean on Monday something was telling me not to bind, so I didn’t and that made it easier to be examined when I went into anaphylactic shock and had to go to the hospital.25. Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?- I did but we all came out as trans so I mean26. Do you think anyone has feelings for you?- I mean I hope Jack does27. Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?- I don’t think so28. Were you single on Valentines day?- no, Jack and I started dating on February 12th29. Has anyone upset you in the last week?- no30. Have you ever cried over a text?- Ye31. Where’s your last bruise located?- on my left arm, from the IV drip32. Last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?- November 28th33. Who was the last person you were on the phone with?- my grandma34. Do you wear hats if you have a bad hair day?- always35. Would you ever go bald if it was the style?- I’ve already been bald, I’m just now in the process of growing my hair back36. Do you make supper for your family?- no, we don’t eat together anymore37. Does your bedroom have a door?- yes38. Does anything on your body hurt?- my back, always, and I have the good old Period Cramps™39. Are goodbyes hard for you?- not overly, but saying goodbye to my grandpa killed my soul40. How is your hair?- pretty dead, ngl I bleached it twice on Wednesday41. Do you wish you were somewhere else right now?- no42. Is there one person in your life who can always make you smile?- a lot of my coworkers 43. What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?- I’m going to regret this in the morning44. Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?- everyday, man, everyday45. How old will you be in 5 months?- still 1946. Where is your mum right now?- one is at her house across town, the other one is here, sulking47. Have you held hands with someone in the past 3 days?- yes.48. How many people have you liked in the past three months?- I like most people49. Has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last three days?- my son and Jack50. Will you talk to the person you like tonight?- probably,I have a lot to say about everything51. If your partner was into drugs would you care?- I mean he can do whatever he wants, but it depends heavily on the type of drug and how much/ how often he’s using52. Who was your last received call from?- my sister53. Have you ever trusted someone too much?- maybe, but it’s never come back to bite me54. Do you get along with girls?- I love girls!55. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?- I don’t think so, I’m not entirely out yet, but I’m getting there and on my terms56. Everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?- my grandma, Jack, Shayna, I’ve got a few, yea

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talabib · 5 years

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The Secrets Of True Leadership In Today’s World.

The world is changing more rapidly than ever. This means two things for leadership. First, it means that leaders are needed more than ever. Sure, in times of stability we can survive with just managers. But when facing the unknown, we need strong leaders to guide us through uncertainty. Second, a changing world means that leaders themselves need to stay agile.

Today’s secret to enduring success as a leader is the ability to be nimble and agile, and to leadershift: to make leadership changes that will boost not just the leader’s growth, but that of his or her organization.

This post will take you through the personal leadershifts that make positive impact on organizations and on the world.

Great leaders bring out the best in everyone, rather than seeking to shine themselves.

Too many would-be leaders think mostly of themselves. Focused on their own goals and aspirations, they don’t realize that being a leader is not about what you can do for yourself; it’s about what you can do for others.

To be a true leader, you need to make the mind-set shift from me to we.

A great way to think of this is in terms of an orchestra. Many would-be leaders are stuck in the mind-set of the soloist – the elite performer whom everyone else serves. True leaders behave more like the conductor, focusing on how they can help everyone else produce a great result. After all, as South Korean cellist-turned-conductor Han-Na Chang says, conducting offers the opportunity to draw limitless potential from an entire group of people.

Key to making the shift from soloist to conductor is ensuring that you truly understand the people around you. One evening in Buenos Aires, Argentina, Malcolm was speaking on leadership, he was invited to watch two hundred people dance the tango, in perfect rhythm and harmony.

His host explained that the secret to the exquisite perfection on show was for each dance pair’s leader truly to understand his partner; to be able to lead effectively, you need to know what it’s like to be led. Well, the trust, cooperation and mutual understanding required to make the tango look beautiful are just as important in the world of work.

So just like any good conductor or tango lead, you should be focused on helping others to shine. You can do this by making sure you have the right attitude toward your people and your relationship to them. Center your leadership around their needs. Listen to them first, before you expect them to listen to you. Work out what your people do well, and compliment them on it. If you set out a big picture for your organization, make sure they are in it. And don’t just tell them your vision – invite them to help you achieve it.

These actions are simple. But they’ll only work if they’re backed with an intentionality that says, “My focus is to help others shine.” And none of this is to say that you shouldn’t focus on your own growth. You just need to do that in the right way. Let’s take a look at what that right way is.

Developing a growth mind-set is a better approach than focusing on hitting simple goals.

When Malcolm was a young church leader in a small town in Ohio, he set himself a goal of making his church the largest in the state. He doubled the size of his congregation in a single year. And by 1975, his church was recognized as the fastest-growing in Ohio.

But after celebrating, he started to reflect on his achievements. And what he realized was that the personal growth he had experienced along the way – his experience and understanding of leadership – was much more important than hitting his numerical goal of growing church membership. That led to another key leadershift: from a goal mindset to a growth mind-set.

A goal mind-set emphasizes achievement and status, whereas a growth mind-set values development and stretching oneself. A goal mind-set prioritizes hitting a target and asking how long it will it take to get there, whereas growth mind-sets simply ask, “How far can I take this?”

If you do adopt a growth mind-set, you may be surprised by the results you achieve. When Malcolm was younger, he met Elmer Towns, a Liberty University professor and someone he admired. He discovered that Towns had sold 110,000 books, and decided that selling that many copies of his own books would be his goal.

But in time, his shift from goals to growth occurred, and he focused instead on simply becoming a better writer, and not worrying about sales. Years later, his publisher presented him with a crystal trophy engraved with the words “one million books sold.” It turned out that by focusing on growth, he had achieved far more than he would ever have set for himself as a goal.

The key to embracing a growth mind-set is to have a teachable spirit. That means not just saying you want to learn, but taking practical steps to do so. Think of it like gardening: just wanting your garden to grow into something beautiful won’t achieve anything. You need to plan, prepare and work at cultivating it. So each day, recognize that opportunities to learn and grow are there, whatever you are doing and whoever you are with. Stay curious, and be intentional about learning.

And make sure other people with a growth mind-set surround you. Elmer Towns, who became a mentor to Malcolm, taught him something he called the hot-poker principle. Likening people with a growth mind-set to fire, he’d say that if you can keep your poker near the fire, it stays hot. Take it away, and after a while, it grows cold. Stay close to the fire.

Great leaders don’t simply climb up the ladder; through mentoring, they build ladders for others to climb.

You probably know one or two supposed leaders who are self-focused. The question at the forefront of their minds is, “How high up the ladder can I climb?” True leaders, however, make the shift from climbing up the ladder themselves to thinking about how they can build ladders for others.

Now, it’s certainly true that climbing the ladder successfully yourself is a prerequisite if you want to help others do the same. A good rule of thumb is to aim to be in the top ten percent of your chosen field. That’s the magic zone in which you’ll stand apart from the rest. Get to that top ten percent, and you can safely assume that you have a lot to offer others.

And that’s the best way to look at your success – as a great resource to use to help others. As Kevin Myers, leader of 12Stone, a Wesleyan church based in the US state of Georgia, says, true leaders want more for their people than they want from them.

So how can you build those ladders for others to climb? Well, if you’ve hit that magic top ten percent, then think about mentoring.

The first thing to do is decide whom to mentor. Think carefully. Time is limited, so if you can only invest in one or two people, they’d better be the right ones. To ensure you choose wisely, ask yourself a few key questions.

First, are these people just hopeful, or are they truly hungry for knowledge and learning? There are plenty of people in the world who hope for better things, but only a few who are hungry for it, who don’t simply say, “There should be a way,” but rather, “I’ll find a way.” Invest in these people.

Second, ask yourself whether your candidate has true leadership potential. That’s because a leader will influence many other people. So investing in shaping their future has a wider impact than if you mentored a follower.

Once you’ve selected your mentee, what should you offer that person? Well, any good mentor offers bite-sized truths distilled from the complexity of life, and options and considerations for the future.

Connecting with people achieves better results than simply directing them.

Malcolm witnessed the benefits of leadershifting from directing people to connecting with them when he visited the locker room of the University of Tennessee Lady Volunteers basketball team, coached by Pat Summitt, a legendarily successful coach.

When the players came in at half time, instead of talking to Summitt straight away, they huddled around a whiteboard on which were written three questions: What did we do right? What did we do wrong? and What should we change? Only after the team had discussed and agreed upon its answers did Summitt come and talk to them. She heard them out, reflected on their answers and made a few observations before sending them out onto the court for the second half of the game.

Too many leaders lead based on assumptions. Instead of assuming where her players were mentally and simply telling them what to do, Summit preferred truly to understand them by asking questions and listening to them.

Summit had made a leadershift to leadership based on connection, not direction – leadership that embraced collaboration rather than authority, and listening rather than talking. If you want to take the same step, you need to do the same. So learn to listen well.

Malcom spends a great deal of time in meetings, and if you are a leader, you probably do, too. So try out what Malcolm does. Every time you meet with someone, take out a pad to write notes. And at the top of that pad, write a big L, standing for “Listen.” That will act as a reminder that when you meet with people as a leader, your job is less to talk than to listen.

If you really want to improve your listening, tackle it with your growth mind-set. Be brave enough to ask your colleagues – or friends or family members – how good a listener you are, on a one-to-ten scale. Pay attention to their answers, and act on them. And ask them to let you know any time they feel you aren’t listening to them in the future.

Leading with connection is better for everybody. It leads to better relationships, better communication and a two-way flow of ideas. Embrace this leadershift, and you’ll soon start to see results flow.

Making the shift to valuing diversity will bring greater value and richness to your leadership and life.

When Malcolm was a young man, in Circleville, Ohio, there was absolutely nothing diverse about his environment. His community was almost completely white. The leaders in his protestant church were white men. They looked alike, and they acted alike. As a young pastor, conformity to tradition was drilled into him.

But over time, he came to realize that the most important lessons and insights often come from outside your own group. He learned this from his first discussions with a Catholic priest, who reinforced his faith, despite coming from a different denomination; and, later in life, from his move to Atlanta, a city rich in African-American culture and far removed from Circleville.

Similarly, teams are more effective and valuable when they embrace diversity, because diversity brings insight and perspective that can fill the knowledge gap. As a leader, you can’t know everything. You rely on your team to fill in those gaps, and it can do so most effectively when it brings different perspectives to the table.

If you need convincing, why not look to some of history’s great leaders? Abraham Lincoln built his cabinet from a very diverse group for that time. Its members were sworn political rivals, not allies. But the tough demands of the civil war required the skills of the best thinkers and diversity of perspective, not homogenous group thinking, if the Union was to be a success. Or look to Winston Churchill, Great Britain’s masterful wartime leader, who brought the leader of the opposition, Clement Attlee, into his cabinet and making Attlee instrumental in strategy meetings in his underground London bunker.

If you’d like to bring more diversity into your life, first take a critical look at your friendship and professional circles. If you are like most Americans, they likely reflect your age, social background and skin color. Cheryl Moses, founder of Urban MediaMakers, an organization in Atlanta dedicated to promoting diversity in the media-arts industry, was so struck by reading a study that stated that 75 percent of white Americans had no non-white friends that she decided to host an event called “Come Meet a Black Person,” focused on starting more diverse conversations and connections.

So if looking at your friends and contacts is a little too much like looking in the mirror, make an effort to get to know and to learn from people of different races, ages and political persuasions from you. You may be surprised by how refreshing it is to be surrounded by people with new, interesting and different ways of thinking from yours.

Embracing moral authority rather than positional authority is the pathway to great leadership.

Leadership is influence. But where does a leader’s influence come from?

Well, in his first weeks as pastor of a small church in Indiana, fresh out of college, Malcolm learned that influence doesn’t come from the position you hold. By the rules of the church, he was its leader. But as his first meeting of the church’s board kicked off, a respected farmer and church member, Claude, took command. Claude asked Malcolm to open the meeting with a prayer, and Malcolm then said almost nothing until Claude politely asked him for a closing prayer at the end of the meeting.

It was a tough, early lesson that titles do not equate to leadership. So Malcolm started thinking about what gave Claude influence. He wasn’t particularly rich, well-educated or impressive in any obvious way. But he had moral authority as a good, honest, fair and hardworking man who had lived these values with consistency for decades. Claude would never have called himself a leader, but he was. Every inch.

But what are the qualities inherent in moral authority? Well, integrity – the ability to align your actions with your words and live your values consistently – is important. Integrity makes you dependable and trustworthy – followable, in other words – in the eyes of your team because they know that you will do what you say you will, and that your actions are rooted in strong moral values. When we look at a moral hero like the late Nelson Mandela, we see someone we can rely on to behave in a way that is in line with his values, time and time again.

Also important is courage. That’s because acting with courage allows not just you but those around you to achieve their full potential as well.

You probably know the biblical story of the Israelite David and his defeat of the Philistine giant Goliath. What you may not know is that while David stepped out to meet the giant, the rest of the army of Israel, including its king, was hiding in fear. But David’s heroic courage inspired his fellow Israelites to find their own. With the giant slain, they stepped out of their fear and defeated the Philistines.

Combine courage with integrity, and you’ll be a leader people will be happy to follow, whatever the destination.

The best lives have meaning, so embrace the leadershift from career to calling.

According to a famous proverb, in the Middle Ages, a passerby came across three craftsmen at work and paused to ask them what they were doing. The first said that he was laying stones, the second that he was building a wall. The third? He replied, with a sense of pride, that he was creating a magnificent cathedral.

Some people do a job. Others have careers. And still, others are lucky enough to have found their callings in life. The members of this last group are the lucky ones, who have found something greater than themselves to pursue. As Presbyterian author and minister Frederick Buechner wrote in his 1973 book Wishful Thinking, they have found a place where their deep gladness intersects with one of the world’s deep needs.

Wouldn’t you too like to discover a calling and a richer way forward in life, with a clear reason and purpose for living? Well, there’s no reason why you can’t. If you understand what a calling is, you will be well-placed to find your own.

The first thing to know about a calling is that it matches who you are. No one ever got called to something not suited to them. So ask yourself: Is there one thing that you could do for hours on end, that you would happily do for the rest of your life, and that can make a positive difference to others? If so, that might just be your calling.

The second thing is that your calling will be something you are passionate about. Malcolm was a fan of the advice of Harold Thurman, the famous African-American philosopher and civil rights leader. Thurman advised people not to ask what the world needs, but to ask what makes them come alive. Because what the world needs is people who are truly alive.

But remember that a calling isn’t just about you. The significance of a life dominated by a calling, and not just a career or a job, comes from giving, thinking and serving beyond yourself.

Live without a calling, and you are likely to feel a nagging anxiety that your life has not achieved its true meaning. Find it, and everything changes. Nothing else in life is as satisfying. Why do you think so many celebrities champion causes? They are pursuing the richness of life that can only come from a calling. Make the leadershift from career to calling, and a fulfilled life lies ahead of you.

The best leaders change and adapt. They leadershift – that is, they make leadership changes that boost both their own and their organization’s growth. They focus not just on directing but on connecting with their teams, and they pursue not just short-term goals and career moves, but deep personal growth, moral authority and their true calling in life.

Action Plan: File away everything you learn. To maintain your personal growth and learning, file away whatever you learn. The same goes for quotations. Do the same, and you’ll always have access to the knowledge you’ve acquired and easily be able to reinforce your learning.

#The Secrets Of True Leadership In Today’s World.

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