#wow people are gonna hate me if they track any of these tags :) at least you can push the 'this post isn't for me' button

[tatyana-dreaming]

Eugene Onegin: Finale Analysis

*apologies in advance for a LONG POST! any TYPOS! and also that the Russian has been latinized (is that what we say?)*

I have often read opinions and observations about the finale of Eugene Onegin along the lines of “there’s no new theme;” it’s “not as intense as the Letter scene;” it’s “anticlimactic...” etc. (those last two comments are found in Eugene Onegin: The Opera Lively Guide by Luiz Gazzola).

Clearly, these are just opinions and I’m not here to disprove anything... but I am here to retaliate with a whole lot of love for this particular 14 minutes of music so buckle up :) I’m going to try to mainly be objective here and just offer my observations/analysis. Maybe you’ll find some newfound appreciation along the way...and please pitch in if you have your own comments or have noticed things I haven’t necessarily picked up on!

Before we start, you may want to pull a recording of the finale (this one is my favorite of course), and potentially your favorite CD/recording of Eugene Onegin, if you want to listen along and compare. If I had more time and skills I would have done this for you in a video or added trimmed audio bits throughout this post but alas. Maybe one day! For now, enjoy these screencaps from the 2007 Carsen production at the Met with Fleming and Hvorostovsky.

1. Gazzola points this out in his book - and thank goodness, because I’m not sure I would have made the connection myself. The final scene opens with a motif that is more or less a repetition of Gremin’s theme (in rhythm, at the very least), “Lyubvi Vsye Rozrasti Pokorni/Love conquers all ages,’” foreshadowing Tatyana’s decision/steadfastness to the mature, stable love or contement, or whatever we want to call this - we can have an analysis of ‘love’ in Eugene Onegin in another post! Already I’m thinking back to the opening of the opera when Larina and Filipyevna sing in unison “Privichka svishe name dana, zamyena shchastiyu ona / Habit is sent us from above in place of happiness.” Tatyana’s mother used to read and dream like Tayana herself and was even in love, but eventually had to marry someone else and “became resigned and settled down.”

And as @lizlensky​ recently reminded me, of course Filipyevna did not get to marry for love either, not that Tatyana was really listening to her story. In fact, maybe I’m looking far into deeply, but it seems to me the strings underneath this “Gremin motif” at the opening of the finale and also when Tatyana eventually sings to that tune “Onegin, ya togda molozhe/Onegin, I was younger then”  are also mimicking the strings underneath Filipyevna when she sings the morning after the Letter Scene, explaining how her mind is getting older and reflecting upon her youth (I’m generalizing a bit - Tatyana certainly isn’t complaining about having an old brain but she is thinking of the past). Make of that what you will! But it gave me chills.

2. Oh no, I’m already getting ahead of myself though. Before Onegin even comes on the scene, we also hear what some call the “Fate motif” but what I prefer to call the “Dream motif” (if it is fate, why does it follow Tatyana all over dreamy Act I but disappears except for this tiny reminiscence? But of course, up for discussion as it’s the prelude/introduction to the opera, and it comes back when Yevgeni does, haunting her like a ghost, which I suppose is fate-y). Here it is again when Tatyana sings “Kak budto snova dyevochkoi ya stala/It’s as if I’m a young girl again” - which is then followed by what I might personally call the fate theme, since it foreshadows the anguish Tatyana will face when she is rejected in Act I, and before she rejects Onegin in Act III.

This is where I wish I had an audio clip but I think you know what I mean; it’s the really dramatic climax that comes right when Tatyana enters the stage in Scene 3 of Act III (before “Zdyez on, zdyes on, Yevgeni!”) and right before Onegin comes onstage in Act III, Scene 2. Or ha, maybe this is just “Onegin’s Arrival Theme” since there’s a similar kind of orchestral panic before he arrives in Act I (though of course, not in Scene 1 of Act III since it is Tatyana who enters rather than Onegin who was in the room already, at least in the productions I’ve seen.)

3. Okay, so now Onegin’s here, what does he have to say for himself? We hear a bit of the Onegin aria theme -  “Mechtam i godom nyet vazvrata, nye obnovlyu dushi moyei/Dreams and years cannot return, I cannot renew my soul!” as he (in some versions) falls to Tatyana’s feet, exclaiming “O, szhaltes, szhaltes nado mnoyu!/ Have mercy on me!”  Clearly has some srs regerts. But also perhaps Tchaikovsky foreshadowing what is to come... not only that we shouldn’t expect Tatyana to act with any less honor (or prudence/reason) towards Onegin as he did towards her in Act I, and that indeed she sings “proshlogo nye vorotit/you cannot bring back the past.”  I know I’m grinding a lot out of this particular moment, but... would you expect anything less from me? Or (thinks of Petya) HIM? :)

4. As Tatyana reminds Onegin how he rejected her and begins to question why he is suddenly in love with her now, we get to revisit some of the music from the Letter Scene - at least in the orchestra. Tatyana’s line differs slightly than her original melody in the Letter Scene when she sings “Togda, nye pravda li pustine, vdali ot suyetnoi molvi/There in that backwater, far from vain society” - and just so, as it is far from its dreamy, romantic parallel in her letter - “Y v eto samoye mgnovyenye ne ti li, miloye vidyenye/And in that very moment, wasn’t it you, beloved vision [...who whispered to me words of hope].” I find this throwback incredibly clever and gutwrenching, as I believe it’s clearly a bitter and ironic jab at the hope that Onegin crushed, even honorably as he did, and now the two of them have changed positions. Whose dreamy hopes (which are... questionable at best at the moment) are getting schooled now? Cmon’ Onegin, “learn to control yourself....”

5. Let me take a moment to admit and agree with many analyses/critics (although Tchaikovsky knows what he is doing, convince me otherwise) that Onegin is pretty fragmented and lacks a coherent theme, and certainly has no original “love theme” of his own to offer Tatyana  - after all, Onegin as a character, especially in the book, is pretty hollow, someone who isn’t so much a “self’ as a person who knows how to go through the motions of life... He’s intelligent but not creative, full of potential but lacking any real direction. (Ohhh I am going to cry because that’s so sad but also so relatable, but crying is coming up next so I’ll hold off). The opposite of Lensky’s “poet spirit” that lives life romantically, and is in love with life itself, seeing the infinite everywhere rather than seeing life so pessmistically (with the mask of pragmatism/”maturity”) as Onegin does, a mask that keeps Onegin from truly engaging with life or his own sense of self.

So as Onegin sings, we hear that lack of originality, though I will pull a Valery Gergiev here and say one “cannot be impartial” to Onegin’s music here (*clutches chest - that’s Tchaikovsky, even though I think it’s clear Onegin is not his fav) - Onegin may not be original, but there is no less truth or heartfelt emotion in what comes through. Luckily, Tatyana knows that it’s still not a good choice... he’s still not very substantial, at best, and at worst truly is only infatuated with her because of her reputation. It would mean ruin for her either way so :( (read: Anna Karenina) (here are some sad Onegin pictures just for fun because it’s all been Tatyana mainly but also: sorry this is Tatyana’s big moment so)

6. Time for tears! Do you hear a familiar theme when Tatyana sings “Ya plachu/I’m weeping?” It’s Lensky’s aria theme making a comeback- what!??! And particularly, the same melody as these two phrases, when Lensky sings: “Shto dyen gradushchi mnye gotovit/What does this day hold for me?” and perhaps more salient to this moment: “Pridyosh li, dveya krasoti, slezu prolit nad rannei urmoi/ Will you come, maiden, to shed a tear over my untimely urn?” Ahhh, I see what you did there, Petya.

But wait, Onegin hates crying! This isn’t explicitly in the opera of course, but Onegin in the novel all but tells Tatyana that her tears (as he rejects her) only vex him - another reason marriage would be a torment for them (not a bad reason and look, we always respected his honesty, right?). But now? I think it’s a crucial moment; it shows there has indeed been some development on Onegin’s part and uh oh, he’s actually in love (ironically in a very Lensky - that is, poetic - way)  even if it’s not for the best of reasons.

7. Fun (pain) pact: “Tak blizhko! [happiness was] so close!” is the only time Onegin and Tatyana sing together or are on the same page, so to say. Nice. (*cries*) The only other times people sing completely lined up together like this in this opera, choruses aside, are when:

Larina and Filipyevna sing “Privichka svishe name dana, zamyena shchastiyu ona /Habit is sent to us from above in place of happiness”  in the opening scene

Onegin and Lensky sing “Nye zasmeyatsa l nam, poka ne obagrilasa ruka, ne razoitis li polyubovno? Nyet... /Shouldn’t we burst out laughing, rather than staining our hands with blood, shouldn’t we part as friends? No...”  before the duel

Moments of truth. And mostly pain. :) Again, please chime in if there are others, I’m sure I’ve missed something.

8. Time for Tatyana to refuse! This is where I completely disagree that there is “no new major theme” in the Finale; Tatyana’s “rejection theme” holds its own in my books. Interestingly, it’s in D-flat major, just like the main themes in her Letter Scene (”Puskai pogibnu ya/Let me perish,” and “Kto ti? Moi angel/ Who are you? my [guardian] angel..” aka the descending/Russian 6th theme). Tatyana is just as earnest/decided/resigned* (yes, all three of those adjectives) in her decision in the finale as in the Letter Scene, so maybe that has something to do with it. (I always remember her words in the Letter scene: “Uvi, nye v silakh ya vladyet svoyei dushoi!/Alas, I am unable to subdue my soul!” but just like Onegin learning to be endeared by tears - she has indeed learned to subdue her soul, or perhaps she has simply matured and her priorities have changed. (And of course, who lectured her to subdue her soul in the first place, even though he meant well? Yours truly!)

*resigned might seem an interesting way to describe the Letter Scene, but don’t forget “No, tak i bit! Sudbo moyu otnine ya tebye vruchayu/So be it. Henceforth my fate belongs to you....”  I tend to interpret that as Tatyana actually taking her fate into her own hands and deciding to go all in with her decision, despite the words that seem to make her position passive. In the finale, she is ‘resigned’ in a similarly active manner - this is not a passive resignation. But I still would use the term resigned, if only to draw the parallel between Tatyana and her mother....  “I became resigned and settled down.”  And so she has, even if she has to struggle to push Onegin away from the settled life she has, loving him all the same.

And in comes some of my favorite music of all time - Onegin’s desperate, even malicious pleas and a good dose of mansplaining how Tatyana “can’t” abandon him, quoting back her letter. Extra ouch, because do you remember in Tatyana’s letter when she tells Onegin if he has any pity, “vi nye ostavite menya/you won’t abandon me.” And what does she have to beg him to do over and over until she finally runs offstage? “Ostav menya!/Leave me!” heheheheh *laugh-cries*  everything is fine.

9. And we’ve nearly reached the very end. Almost a year into listening to this particular piece of music and I only recently realized what was going on - yeah, I know. When things get really heated at the end and pain reaches a maximum, Tatyana sings “Gluboko v syerdsta pronikayet, yevo otchayanni priziv no, pil prestupni podaviv/His anguished cries penetrate my heart, but the fire of passion has been extinguished” (well, I’m still not quite sure on the ‘correct’ English translation but it doesn’t sound good for Yevgeni regardless...)

That melody in that last line calls us back to its twin sister at the end of Scene 1 in Act I when Onegin is talking about how bored he was with his uncle, waiting for him to die. So a) I hear this as Tatyana “ending things once and for all” (parallels between the death of Onegin’s uncle, and the death of their relationship), as well as possibly (again I read 10,000% too much into things) b) Tatyana realizing that Onegin’s words to her back in the garden were true - habit [routine] would kill their love; they would become bored (or at least he would). The passion would burn out.

Which brings us back to c) heaven sends us habit in place of happiness [=passion?]- which, OH, RIGHT, OF COURSE has the same rhythm of the aforementioned “boredom” theme and “the fire of passion has been extinguished.” But you all probably already realized that because oF COURSE.. that’s how the opera OPENS... and now how it is CLOSING... AHHHH!!!

I know I’m not original or anything for realizing that parallel, but yeah. I’m pretty happy about it.

Tchaikovsky is absolutely genius. Unbelievable. And paired with Pushkin? I’m not surprised I’ve clearly lost my mind over this masterpiece.

Anyways, this was an extremely long post but I hope you enjoyed it immensely, especially if you read this far!! Please chime in with your own comments! I LOVE THIS PIECE OF MUSIC!

#wow people are gonna hate me if they track any of these tags :) at least you can push the 'this post isn't for me' button #long post #eugene onegin #tchaikovsky #opera #that was 2000 words everyone thanks for reading and no offense if you didn't #writing tag i suppose #myedits: stills

[peggyrose19]

Amber and Green

I have another fic for youuuuuuu. It’s St. Tweedle this time cause I missed them. Here’s Saint realizing Luke has green in one eye. AO3 link here if you’d prefer. 

characters belong to @lumosinlove

@im-oknutzy-trash @wonder-womans-ex i’m just tagging you two in all st. tweedle fics now just so you know

Saint spent far too long staring at Luke. 

He knew the line of his jaw and the scar on his cheek, knew the curve of his neck and shoulder, the strong panes of his chest and back. He knew what it felt like to be held by those arms, to be kissed by those lips. He thought he knew every part of Luke. But maybe he didn’t know everything. 

Luke was studying. Or at least, that’s what he’d said. Watching him, lying in bed with a book in his hand, it seemed to Saint he was reading rather than studying. But he wasn’t looking at Saint, and so Saint didn’t really care what he was doing.

Saint loved watching Luke. Tracing those familiar lines, tracking the expressions that flitted across his face. Not that he’d ever admit this to anyone, of course. He had a reputation to uphold. 

That day, lying beside Luke, his gaze fell upon Luke’s eyes, eyelashes touching his cheeks each time he blinked. Purple bruised his under-eyes, turning his amber eyes a dark brown. He wasn’t sleeping enough, Saint thought, fighting the urge to reach out and touch. Instead, he watched him blink, watched his eyes flit across the pages. 

He saw something then that made him pause. He’d always thought Luke’s eyes were amber, deep like honey. They drew him in until he couldn’t get out, until he was stuck and he didn’t even care. But it was then he realized his left eye wasn’t totally brown. 

“Wait. Your eye is green.”

Luke frowned, but didn’t look up. “Yes?”

“Has it always been like that?”

“Since I was born. Just happens to some people apparently.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I mean most people don’t.” 

“Oh.”

Luke looked up then, frowning. “How did you notice?”

Saint just shrugged. He didn’t want Luke knowing just how much time he spent watching him. 

“Were you watching me, just now?” Luke asked.

Saint scowled. “No.”

“Yes you were.” A smirk played at his lips and Saint wanted to smack him. With his mouth. 

He fought the urge.

“Are you pouting?” Luke asked incredulously.

“I don’t pout,” Saint scoffed, ignoring the fact that he had, in fact, been pouting. 

“You are.”

Luke looked far too delighted. Saint intended to change that. With a smirk, he tackled Luke to the bed, jabbing him in the sides. Luke shrieked uncharacteristically and Saint just laughed. He’d never seen Luke like this. 

“Stop stop stop,” Luke gasped, and Saint paused. But he didn’t move from where he was, sat firmly on Luke’s hips holding him down. Their faces were inches apart.

“Still think I’m pouting?”

“No, God. You’re so immature sometimes, you know that?” Luke shook his head with a smile. 

“Am I now.”

Luke glared playfully. “Would you get off me?”

“Hmm I’m quite comfortable here, actually.” Saint smirked, settling more comfortably on top of Luke, folding his hands over Luke’s chest and resting his chin on top. “So. How’s the homework going?”

Luke seemed to resign himself to his position. “You bastard.” 

“Yes, we’ve already determined I’m a bastard,” Saint replied conversationally, tilting his head. Luke just sighed.

“Will you get off so I can get back to my studying.”

“See, it seems to me,” Saint continued as if Luke hadn’t spoken, “that if I had two different colored eyes, more people would know about it.”

“Yeah, cause you can’t keep your mouth shut,” Luke muttered. Saint jabbed him again. 

“So that leaves me wondering how, exactly, you’ve managed to keep this under wraps so well.”

“I mean, most people don’t notice eye color.”

Saint paused. “Wait, really?”

“What color eyes does James have?”

“Um.”

“Exactly. Which brings me back to, how did you notice my eye?”

Saint sighed. Luke wouldn’t ever let him down for this, but he also would never let it go. “I may have been watching you,” he muttered. 

Luke looked smug. “Uh huh. And just how often do you watch me?”

“Never, shut up.”

“See, I don’t believe you,” Luke practically crowed.

“Oh, hush you.” 

At that, Luke cackled loudly. Saint grumbled under his breath, but he wasn’t truly upset. He liked hearing Luke laugh, liked when he lowered his guard like this. With a sigh, Saint leaned up and captured Luke’s lips in a kiss. 

Luke softened into it, the tension leaving his body entirely. Saint kissed him again, reveling in the quiet gasp it pulled from Luke, the tremor that shook his body. He liked having Luke this way too, soft and pliable. Content. He liked seeing him happy. 

“You should sleep more,” Saint mumbled. He pulled back and swiped a thumb under Luke’s eye, over the shadow he’d noticed earlier. 

“You do like looking at me.”

“Possibly. But my point remains.”

Luke let his head flop back onto the pillow, looking up at Saint softly. 

“You watch me enough to know when I need to sleep?” he asked. 

“I know everything about you,” Saint murmured, kissing him again. “I know how you look when you’re tired, or when you’ve had too much coffee.” Another kiss. “When you want me but won’t ask. When you’ve had enough of everyone around you.” And another. “I know everything.”

Luke just hummed. Saint continued softly, “I know that last night you were up late studying, because you think if you get good grades then maybe your mom will finally notice you. And you woke up early to run, because you do it every morning. I know that right now you’re struggling to stay awake, even with the absurd amount of coffee in your body. I think you should take a nap.” 

Finally, Luke huffed a surprised laugh. “You always manage to surprise me.”

“I try.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I told you, I watch you. I’m very observant, Tweedle.”

“You wanna know what I think?” Luke’s voice was soft, and he twirled a strand of Saint’s hair around his finger. “You watch because you’re afraid.”

“And what am I afraid of?” Saint whispered back.  

“You’re afraid people will leave you like your mom. So you watch for the signs, because that way you can leave first and maybe it’ll hurt less. But I’ll let you in on a little secret; it won’t hurt any less. Because at the end of the day, they’re still gone.”

For possibly the first time ever, Saint was stunned into silence. 

“Wow,” he said finally. 

Luke smiled a little. “Finally shut you up, huh?”

Despite himself, Saint huffed a laugh. “I guess so.”

“Sorry if I hit a nerve.” 

Saint was already shaking his head, “It’s okay.”

Luke didn’t reply, but he kept his hands tangled in Saint’s hair, seemingly searching his face.

“You watching me now?” Saint asked.

“Maybe.” His voice dragged, and Saint could hear the exhaustion in it, more pronounced than before. He hated it. 

“Go to sleep,” Saint whispered.

“You gonna get off me?”

“Fine.” 

Saint shifted so he lay beside Luke instead, nestling into his side, tucking his face into the place where his shoulder and neck meet. It felt safe.

“That better?” he asked, and Luke nodded. “Sleep, Tweedle. I’ll be right here.” 

Luke’s eyes shut, and he held Saint close, their hands tangled together. He was warm and comforting, and Saint watched his chest rise and fall evenly. He could tell the moment he drifted off, breathing deepening and any remaining tension seeping from his body. 

It was only because Luke was fast asleep that he leaned up and pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered three dangerous, little words.

“I love you.” 

#st. tweedle #luke x saint #they're being sappy #and childish #heterchromia #luke has one green eye #and saint looks at him too often #lumosinlove #relic keel

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

The Interview: Part One

Title: The Interview - A Luke x Reader One Shot

Words: 3,177

Summary: Y/N gets to interview Sunset Curve when they finally go on tour near where she lives.

TW: None

Author’s notes: Ok… the interview part is kind of inspired by a glorious evening when myself and a friend got to interview our favourite band just before a gig. I was much clumsier that Y/N and made a complete fool of myself on more than one occasion, but it seemed to have worked because they loved the interview – or so they told us.

I hope you like it. I’m not 100% with it, but didn’t want to drag it out for the hell of it. This is set in the UK, so spellings may be a little different.

(credit @nikascott​)

The first time you heard Now or Never, you knew there was something special about Sunset Curve. Their lyrics and the beats of their pop rock tracks made you feel amazing and you couldn’t help but dance every time you heard them.

You spent all your time online anyway, so you decided to set up a Sunset Curve fan account. You didn’t expect much to come out of it due to bein in the UK while they were based in the US. But you religiously shared photos of the guys, wrote funny articles about them after speaking to people who’d been to their shows. Shared credited photos from gigs which soon got you respect from the fans and you began to build up a following.

You managed to fit running the account single handed, fitting it in between being at university studying for your degree in media and working part time. You’re not in it for the recognition, you just want to show your appreciation for a band you love.

Your best friend, Carrie, doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how you can spend so much time expelling energy on four guys you’re never going to meet, but she indulges you because you also run one for her band, Dirty Candi. Your friend and the rest of her group are insanely talented, and even though they’re not a genre you tend to listen to, you support them because that’s what friends do.

It’s been a year since you’d first heard Now or Never and since you set up the account. You’ve amassed over ten thousand followers, most of whom are also in the UK, when you get your first band member follow. Bobby Wilson, the rhythm guitarist likes a post you shared about him and promptly follows you. You get constant likes from him and sometimes the odd comment. Your followers go insane but you manage to keep calm, ish.

The second follow is Alex, the drummer. This time you do go a bit crazy, because he’s adorable and you can’t help be a little in love with him.

It takes less than a day after Alex’s follow before the bassist, Reggie to follow you and send your notifications into overdrive by commenting on a ton of posts. You scream into a pillow on your bed because it’s 2 a.m. and you don’t want to wake Carrie up.

The one follow you’re waiting for doesn’t come. Luke Patterson, the lead singer and your favourite member hasn’t joined his bandmates, and while you never expected it, you’re more than a little upset by the fact.

“Honey, he’s like a Rockstar. He’s got more important things to do than follow fan accounts online.” Carrie was right, but it still stung a bit.

“I know, but…”

“Y/N, sweetie. I adore you, but you need to let it go. I don’t want you working yourself up over this, please. Why don’t we have a girlie night, just the two of us? We’ll watch cheesy films, eat junk food, and sing bad karaoke. No phones.”

“I love you, do you know that?” I told her.

“How could you not?” She flicked her pastel pink hair over her shoulder with a laugh before going to prepare snacks while I got the lounge ready for an evening of lazing around.

:: ::

Halfway through The Greatest Showman, Carrie falls asleep, so after you cover her over with a blanket, you pull your phone out of the box she hid it in and scroll through social media.

         |Hey, @SunsetCurveFansUK did you see this??

Included in the message is a link to the official Sunset Curve account. You click on it and there’s a note from the band. Announcing a UK tour. You begin to hyperventilate as you try and prevent yourself from screaming out loud, but it doesn’t work and you let out a loud squeak, waking Carrie up.

“What’s wrong? Y/N, are you okay?” She sounds worried, so you shove your phone at her, unable to speak. “Oh, wow. This is cool. Start saving because I know you’re gonna want to go to every show.”

“Yes, yes I will.” Getting to your feet, you do a crazy dance around the small lounge of your apartment, making Carrie laugh. You only realise at the last minute that she’s recording you. “Don’t you dare post that online.” You warn her.

“Too late, sweetie. It’s already on my story and I tagged the band.”

“I hate you. Worst friend ever, I think I’ll advertise for a new one.” You grumble, making her laugh as you settle down on the couch to catch up on everything you’ve missed online.

:: ::

When tickets go on sale, you’re disappointed they guys are only doing four dates in the UK, but you buy yourself a ticket to all of them. Sadly, they don’t offer up any VIP tickets because they’re running contests for fans to win them for each show. Their tour manager, Trevor – who also happens to Bobby’s dad – has messaged your account asking if you’d like the opportunity to interview the band as a thank you for all the work you’d put into promoting them.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You’re gonna meet the band, your favourite band.” Carrie is grinning, happy for you as you stare at the message on your phone screen in disbelief. “Are you going to reply?”

“I… er… what is going on?” You stare over at your best friend who’s grinning widely at you. “This is a joke, right? Someone’s pulling the ultimate prank on me, aren’t they?”

“Y/N, look. For over a year, you’ve been pimping out those guys like crazy. You’ve increased their fan base here, which has made them want to tour here, and now they’re offering you this amazing opportunity. Take it and run with it, You deserve it.”

At her words, you reopen the message and reply to Trevor, saying you’d be honoured to do the interview. Then you freak out.

:: ::

The night of the first show and you’re hovering outside the venue waiting for Trevor to come and meet you once the guys finish their sound check. You can faintly hear the strains of Now or Never, and you get goosebumps. Thankful you’re nowhere near where the queue to get in is growing longer and longer, you start to pace outside the door. It suddenly opens outwards, making you jump, and Trevor’s head appears before behind it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi.” You hold out a hand for him to shake, surprising him and yourself with how composed your voice sounds. He shakes your hand and then motions for you to enter the venue.

“Great to meet you. The guys all love your account.”

“That’s amazing to hear.” You make conversation as you follow Trevor through a maze of narrow corridors.

“Are you ready?” He asks as you approach a closed door. You can’t help but hesitate, making him look back at you in worry. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all just a bit… overwhelming.”

“Look, they’re great guys, as normal as they come. There’s no need to feel nervous around them.” He smiles at you and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter. “Guys, this is Y/N from the UK fan account. Go easy on her, okay?” Once you’re fully inside the room, Trevor leaves and closes the door behind you.

“Hey,” Reggie speaks first as they all stand up. You shake hands and instantly feel at ease. “We all love your account, it’s very honest.” He’s clearly referring to your review of their last album where you openly said you weren’t a huge fan of a couple of the songs. It was an integrity you were determined to have on the account. You didn’t want to be seen as the type to blow smoke up their asses just because you were a fan.

“Thanks. I love running it. It keeps me busy and out of trouble, apparently.” You laugh as you pull a fold-up tripod out of your bag and set it up to record the guys for your account. “Do you mind if I film the interview?”

“Go ahead.” Alex waves his hand for you to continue. Once you’re set up, you pull out your journal with your questions written in.

“Hey, Luke. That looks like your journal.” Bobby comments, making the lead singer smile. So far, he hasn’t said much and it’s putting you on edge. Especially as he’s the only band member who hasn’t followed your account. Maybe he hates what you’ve done online. Trying to ignore the doubt, you press record on the video and start to ask the questions.

“My final two questions were submitted as part of a contest I put out to my followers. First up from Ellie is ‘if you could give the others a tattoo, what would it be and where?” As you’d hoped, the response to this question is all four of them bursting into laughter as Reggie’s face lights up.

“I pick Luke and would definitely get my face across his back.” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Maybe if I get him drunk enough, I could at least get my name somewhere.

“Dude, there is no way I will ever have your name, any of your names, tattooed on me.” Luke grinned at them. “I’d probably get Bobby a dick, on his forehead. Just because it would be hilarious.”

You know Bobby is known as a bit of a womaniser and you’ve heard rumblings in the fandom that he’s slept with fans after shows, but you keep quiet as the guys laugh. Bobby picks a rainbow for Alex and Alex picks a cowboy hat for Reggie.

“Okay, the final question is from Sarah and her son Henry. ‘If the zombie apocalypse hit, who would be the first to die.”

“Reggie.” Three out of the four spoke in unison making the bassist pout and you laugh.

“But, we’d try our best to save him.” Alex pipes up, smiling at his friend. “We’d at least try to stick together, but if it’s a choice between me and them, I’m picking me every time.”

“That’s me finished,” you stop the recording. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to sit with me. I really appreciate it.”

All four guys reassure you it’s been their pleasure and that they enjoyed the interview which pleases you as it took you almost six weeks to think of questions that they hadn’t been asked hundreds of times before.

“I’ll leave you guys to get ready for the show. I need a drink.” You stand after packing everything away and move toward the door to leave.

“Hey, Y/N.” Reggie’s voice calling your name makes you turn back to face them. “We put together a little goodie bag of merch for you as a thank you for all the work you’ve done in helping promote us here in the UK.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” You’re blown away and speechless. “I do it because I enjoy it.”

“And it keeps you out of trouble?” Bobby winks at you. Unsure how to react, you smile a little, positive it looks more like a grimace. You take the overflowing bag and clutch it in your hand.

“Hey, we need a selfie.” Alex says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You suddenly find yourself between him and Luke, Alex’s arm slung over your shoulder and Luke’s hand resting on your waist. All you can feel is the head from his hand as you look at the camera Alex is holding out in front of you. Once he’s done, you take a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of Luke before stepping away.

Another round of thank yous and you leave the room and close the door behind you. Then realise you have no idea which way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke’s voice makes you jump.

“Yeah, I just can’t remember the way out.” You’re embarrassed to admit, but you have to meet up with Carrie in the queue. She’d finally agreed to come to at least one of the shows with you, but only one.

“It’s a bit of a maze, here’ I’ll show you the way.” Luke falls into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow space.

“Thanks, you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no problem, I’m on a drink run for the guys anyway, and the bar’s this way.” He shrugged, his shoulder once again brushing against yours.

“Well, thanks again. And for doing the interview, I hope it wasn’t too much of a chore.”

“Nah, it was fun. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what it was gonna be like at first, but you had some great questions.”

Silence fell and you start to feel awkward walking through the venue with a guy you’d crushed on from afar for well over a year. Eventually, the maze of corridors opened out into an area you recognised.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, at the show I mean.” You feel like a complete idiot.

“Yeah, it should be a great show.” You give Luke a small wave and make your way towards the door where a member of the security gets ready to let you out.

“Y/N?” Luke calls out. You turn to look at him. “Do you want a drink?”

Stunned, you kind of freeze to the spot you’re standing in. After a moment, Luke mumbles something and turns to walk away.

“That would be great.” You call out, knowing Carrie would kill you if you said no. You return to Luke’s side and follow him into the space that would soon be filled with fans. The stage was set up with their instruments and you can’t help the shiver of excitement that goes through you.

“Are you cold?” Luke asks.

“No, I just had a chill.” Before you finish speaking, he’s pulled off the flannel shirt he’s wearing and handing it to you. “Honestly, there’s no need. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, take the damn shirt. It’s cold in here and you’re in a tank top.” He insists with a laugh.

“God, you’re pushy.” You snap at him playfully as you take the shirt and slide it on. It’s still warm from him wearing it and you resist the urge to bury your nose in it.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Just a beer is fine.” You pull some money out of your purse, but he waves it away as he hands over a card to the bartender.

As you take a sip of cold beer, your phone chirps with Carrie’s ringtone.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” You pull your phone out as Luke asks the bar tender to take three of the bottles to the rest of the band. “Hello?”

“Where are you? The doors are opening soon.” Carrie’s voice is almost drown out by the noise around her.

“I’m just finishing up, I’ll be out soon.”

“Was Luke as dreamy as-”

“I’ll be out as soon as I can. Bye.” You cut her off, worried Luke will hear her question and shove your phone away again. “Sorry, my friend’s in the queue. I really should get out there.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You go to put your almost full bottle of beer on the bar. “Take that with you. You can’t waste good beer.” You laugh and slide the bottle into the sleeve of Luke’s shirt to hide it from the security staff as the two of you walk over to the door. “Hey, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The two of you lock eyes for a few minutes before you remember Carrie. “I… I better go. Break a leg tonight.”

Before he can answer, you’re outside with the door slamming closed behind you. You take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart as you walk around the building to find Carrie.

:: ::

“Where did that come from?” She asks, pointing to the shirt, as soon as you join her. You look around to make sure no one’s listening. You don’t want to be overheard.

“It’s Luke’s.” You whisper, laughing as her eyes widen in shock. Even more when you pull the bottle of beer out from the sleeve and take a long drink from it.

“When we get inside, you are telling me everything. But especially how you came out of an interview with the lead singer’s clothes on.”

Before you can answer, a cheer goes up near the front of the queue as the doors open and security begin letting the fans in.

Slowly, as tickets are checked, the queue moves forward and you’re finally at the front. The security guy recognises you and gives you a smile as he lets you and Carrie inside.

The first stop is the cloakroom so you can check in your bag and the goodie bag the guys gave you after the interview. Then Carrie drags you to the bar and starts pumping you for answers.

“How did the interview go? What took so long? Why did you come out wearing Luke’s shirt and carrying a beer?”

“Woah, slow down.” You order a couple of shots for the two of you from the bartender who served Luke earlier. He waves away your money, explaining you’ve been added to the bar tab the guys have running to your surprise and Carrie’s giggles. “The interview went really well. The guys responded so well to my questions and I took a selfie with them. Oh, shit. The photo’s on Alex’s phone.”

“Oh, really?” Carrie raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” You move away from the bar so no one can overhear you. When you’re certain you have some privacy, you fill her in on what happened after the interview ended.

“Holy shit, Y/N/ I think you’re in with a chance there.”

“Carrie, no. He’s a bonafide Rockstar, who lives like thousands of miles away. I’m a student from London. Don’t get carried away. He was just being friendly.”

“Oh, sure. Because all rockstars offer their shirts to fans and buy them a beer.” She looks at you, a weird look in her eye as she orders another round of drinks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Trevor the tour manager walking toward you.

“Hey, Y/N. I was asked to give you this.” He hands you a slip of paper before melting away through the crowd toward the stage.

“What is it?” Carrie askes as you unfold it. Written in the hardest writing you’ve ever had to decipher is,

Meet me backstage after the show? Luke.

You don’t know what to think, but Carrie crows like a damn rooster, attracting attention from other fans around you.

“Just being friendly, huh?” She hip bumps you, “I’m coming with you to the other shows, I need to see this unfold with my very own eyes.

Read Part Two here

#jatp #jatp fic #luke patterson #Luke x Reader #one shot #fanfiction #orginal character #bobby #reggie #ales #carrie #Mich writes fic

[mrpenguinpants]

Alright, I finally read Reincarnation no Kaben

AFTER MONTHS (it’s probably been a month? My mind doesn’t keep track of the days) I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO RNK. Ty to Okita anon for the recommendation (*￣3￣)╭💕💕💕 I absolutely loved it. 

After this I’ll start on the other recommendation you gave me. I kept a bit of a log of my reading journey under the read more tag. 

Major spoilers for literally everything in RNK up to ch 53 “Withdrawal”. 

Oh, and I’ll finish answering all my leftover asks and I SHOULD have a fic done by tomorrow. I was so ready to write and then I got up. Now I’m back to bed. 

I’m just gonna write this as a log since I read super super slow and I’m only on ch 7 at the start of writing this but I’m really liking it already. Though to be fair. I love everything okita anon recommends haha. I remember you saying you were simping over Kouu and I haven’t gotten to the part where he appears but I wanted to quickly google what he looked like to prepare myself and I see this:

Well. That’s reassuring. 

I was actually kinda surprised by how many western figures were in the manga since I know there are only like 7? Around 7 western figures that pop up in any anime/manga but seeing people like Albert Fish was kinda surprising but I really liked it. Also, at the end of certain chapters they write little bio’s on them so you get to know more about them was such a nice touch.  I also love that the tradition of making males -> females still stays strong even outside the fate universe hehe.

---

Literally, the next chapter I see him. AHHHHHHHHH. Well maybe not him but his eyeballs. 

This guy lowkey reminds me of the MC’s brother but it’s 99% because he has the same long ponytail. I wouldn’t be surprised if the brother was apart of the the Greats. Honestly, Ein reminds me of those really hard headed girls that are actually really kind on the inside but aren’t good at expressing themselves (maybe because that’s pretty much her character). I also like that Ein doesn’t like males but she’s hiding behind this guy. At least, I’m..99% sure this is Ein. 

I FUCKING KNEW IT. AS SOON AS I SAW HE GOT A THEIF TALENT I COULD FEEL THE SOLO LEVELING VIBES IN ME. HE CAN STEAL TALENTS I FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I’m surprised that Neumann didn’t say anything and  Haito seems to be aware of it.  

Edit: Ah okay, I understand a bit now but it almost seems like Haito is the only one aware of Toya’s second talent.

Edit 2: Okay, as much as I love power hungry MC’s I’m really glad they didn’t make Toya into that. I am such a softie for sympathetic and kind MC’s like these even though it’s been done so many times. I’m really glad this didn’t feel like a rehash. I mean, some points some of the stuff Toya says it does but it’s fine, I don’t mind that. I actually gave a crap about him since I usually prefer the side characters (I UNDERSTAND ANON, I CARE ABOUT KOUU SO MUCH AHHHHH) but HAITO?? AHHHHH. 

---

I like that Izo always has the same hat in every adaptation he’s in lol. Istg, cats are always op. Schrodinger seems so strong and the parallel universes are my absolute shit. Sometimes I think, in one universe I did this and in this universe I’m not. Would I rather stay in this universe or be in the one where I am actually productive. Usually I pick the productive universe and actually work but sometimes I’m a bit of a slacker haha. I think this is my approach to a lot of things in life. But I digress, I don’t wanna get too deep into my life. 

I can sorta sympathize with the sinners. At least the ripper guy to say the least. I love love love unhinged characters that just want to basically destroy the world or at least have fun. But then you find out- wait they are actually sympathetic oh no. That’s how I felt about Djoser in “im the great priest imhotep” (please...i beg...someone read this...I’m so starved). 

As much as character development and rooting for the hero is cool and all, I just want to simp for the crazy “let’s burn the world to the ground” kinda character. I’m also so glad Toya doesn’t automatically become evil and try and steal everyone’s talents because he does seem like a good person and I really don’t see him suddenly switching fields so when he saved (I don’t remember names I’m sorry), the undead solider it was really nice. Proves that he still has his humanity and isn’t strictly relying on the branch of sin. 

It makes sense that he wants to steal talents since he never had one (and it was kinda out of left field when he killed Vlad and we just never addressed that ever again haha) but to see him actually consider his actions and if he actually want’s to steal his teammates talents feels right to me. Poor guy doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends so this is the first time he’s ever seemed to have companionship, aside from Haito, so I really hope he doesn’t attempt to steal their talents. I think I’m thinking of the slime? That time I got reincarnated as a slime manga/anime. Where he’s the pokemon catcher of skills. I thought that was where it was going. 

But I do kinda like how selfish Haito and Toya’s talent stealing relationship is (I mean, later it develops but my first draft of writing this I wasn’t there yet). I’m not sure if selfish or like self-gratitude/pride is the right word but it’s kind of a breath of fresh air. Rather than Haito trying to contain or “help” Toya’s inferiority she’s actually encouraging it and using her own talent for her own...acknowledgement? Er, yeah let’s go with that. 

---

This. This interaction. I love this. Like, genuinely love this. We need more of this. Two people from opposite sides finding some common ground and their fight to the death is less about morals or whose on whose side but for themselves. I love that. This is actually some wholesome stuff. 

Edit: AHHHHH CATCH MY UGLY CRYING IN THE BACK BECAUSE ALL THE “SINNERS” ARE ACTUALLY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. IM DEAD. YOU’VE KILLED ME. 

---

I KNEW IT! YOU CAN NEVER TRUST THESE KIND OF PEOPLE!! I’m going to slap the whiteboard on this but if I see any “goofy” character I’m immediately sus of them. 

As much as I hate that Hitler is getting drawn as a small child I really like this. I know the whole, oh I killed your friends but I’m letting you go because you express humanity but I’m gonna finish my death with a sympathetic line, can be annoying to people but idk I really liked this. 

Honestly this and the undead soldiers death hit me hard ngl. This manga might not have my favourite art style during some points compared to like main stream manga but it has some really beautiful scenes. 

BOOM CALLED IT, though it’s pretty obvious lol. 

THE PONY TAIL NEVER LIES AND HES DA VINCI IT MAKES SENSE NOW

He looks so cute lol. I like that Seiya has the talent of being talented in everything while Toya has the talent to steal other talents. Seiya can probably only cap his power by his own physical/mental abilities with Toya can pull a solo leveling and go further beyond. Thinking of it like jack of trades vs master of none type deals. Though, I might be thinking too hard on this. I like that this man is actually humble but I really wish there was a tiny bit more to him since we only get this one interaction/backstory but the manga isn’t completed yet. I really hope we get to know about Seiya more;; like how he became da vinci or etc. 

Everytime I see Neumann I look at that comic sans type and it kills me on the inside. But I love that her eyes are 01 just, mwah perfection. These little details that aren’t that big but it’s soooo nice. I also ahem, unhinged character heart be still. It’s really nice reading manga in bursts because you can see the art progression and damn does she look good. 

tiny fang appreciation post. 

ngl i’M HARD SIMPING FOR THIS MAN. It’s the pony tail, I have such a thing for guys with long hair (and this is why genshin broke me) but man the art really picked up here. 

I didn’t get into it but OKITA ANON I GET IT. KOUU??? AHHHH. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE??? As much as his whole “war” was a bit questionable in the beginning and tbh I still don’t really get it I like that he knows he’s not the same as the other Greats but still tries to help the other “sinners” in a way only he knows. That’s why Seiya was so important;; I get that he wanted them to have a fun death and to be understood but idk, the whole war idea and having them kill each other (especially the Hitler fights because I understand the others since they reached some kind of acknowledgement) but nonetheless, what a great guy.

Nightingale gives me mad masaki vibes from chainsawman. I hate them and I can’t wait for you to fail, but the inner part of my is cheering for you because unhinged characters are my shit. I feel really bad for Neumann, I had suspicions she wasn’t actually like that since it’s sooo out of left field but I’m really glad the manga seems to know what it’s doing. I really wish we got more Kouu interactions with everyone tho. 

NOW THIS. THIS IS SOME WHOLESOME STUFF. I WANT THIS. I REALLY WANT SPIN-OFF OF REALLY SAD ANIME/MANGA/STORIES WHERE ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE HANG OUT. That’s how I’m feeling about JJK and the scroll segments or BSD WAN that just came out. IT’S SO WHOLESOME TO SEE EVERYONE NOT TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER. 

UGLY SOBBING IN THE CLUBBB AND KOUU AND CHARLOTTE AHHHH. I hate how this is phrased but the respect I have for Hitler?? YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS TO TYPE?? Kitazuka is cool tho, I really like him. Some god given talent. I’m hard simping over him but I really hope we get to know more about him later. 

Getting smug mona vibes, I love this. 

AHHH IVE NEVER FELT THIS UPSET OVER AN APPLEEEE. I’M ACTUALLY UPSET. IF HE DIES IM ACTUALLY GOING TO CRY MY HEART OUT. 

THE FAMOUS SLAP 

I’M SORRY WHA- SLENDERMAN?

Oh..wow. Okay, be still my heart. When I first saw her I thought she was really pretty but now I’m absolutely smitten. God damn, can I please have some more crumbs on these characters before they die;; 

AHHH SAME GIRL FUCKING SAME????? I adore these small panels and translator notes. It’s a real breather after the sad 3am hours talk these characters go through. 

Yagyuu. Jesus christ. WHY ARE ALL THE DEATH SCENES IN THIS MANGA ACTUALLY SO PRETTY AND STABS ME IN THE HEART??? that’s it. goodbye. im fucking out. im actually so upset rn. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? 

---

In conclusion, and I should probably re-read what the characters say and not go off on memory because I’m about to get really deep. I really like how they phrased why they wanted to stop the branch of sin. That there are people just like Toya and Haito who, if they never found the branch of sin, could still probably lead respectable and okay lives. That there was a “them” in another universe that didn’t go down that road and that they want to be in the same universe as “them”. I know this sounds really confusing if you haven’t read the manga but going back to what I said about the parallel universe stuff. 

There was a universe where Toya and Haito didn’t rely on the branch of sin, that even without their talents from becoming a returner, they could still live a happy life given their own personalities and attitudes. It was kinda moving since in the beginning, Toya wanted a talent so badly and now that he has one. He’s realizing that wait, I don’t need a past life talent in order to live. Honestly, I hard relate to that because I totally agree with him. If you have a talent you can probably live a very happy and comfortable life that other factors wouldn’t matter if you just have that incredible talent. Thinking of it as a painter or artist, if you had actual god-given talent you wouldn’t need to worry about other factors since people would naturally seek that talent. So you end up comparing yourself to others and setting that limit on yourself. 

But that’s okay, it’s completely natural and I’m not saying it’s horrible if you do this. Fuck, I do this all the time. I’m not saying the manga is changing my life but it’s kind of refreshing that it get’s talked about since other adaptations of this just make the character super OP. I understand wanting to have that incredible talent, fuck who doesn’t? but you don’t need it in order to live earnestly in the bigger picture sense. Not everything you do has to be productive and honestly, learning to be okay with having fun is nice. Just being okay with who you are right now, even if it isn’t perfect in your eyes, you still have time to build upon yourself and your own talents but doing it for yourself. 

But I probably missed the point and I’m going way to deep haha. But I really enjoyed reading this and thank you once again to okita anon for the recommendation^^ I always love everything you send me and I’ll start reading the next one. If anyone else has any recommendations let me know! 

#WOW WHAT A FUCKING TRAIN RIDE #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #ALRIGHT TIME TO GO CRY MY HEART OUT #JESUS THIS ACTUALLY SO BEAUTIFUL??? #PLEAE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT #IK THE BEGINNING MIGHT SEEM A BIT WEIRD WITH SO MUCH INFORMATION THROWN AT YOU BUT DO IT #IT GETS SOOOO GOOD LATER #ITS GETTING SO GOOD RN BUT I NEED TO WAIT FOR UPDATES #OKITA ANON YOU ARE SUCH AN MVP FUCK I LOVE IT #BUT YOURE ALSO KILLING ME #super duper fucking i love you i actually love you mwha #okita anon #lovely anon #anon ask #reincarnation no kaben

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Some Sense of Normalcy ch.3 (baon)

Summary: It’s Edge’s first day back to work at the Embassy, but his job isn’t the only thing on his mind.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Injury

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

~~*~~

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read Chapter 3 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch was only two steps out of the elevator and already he could taste his own sweat heavy on the back of his tongue. It was fine, no big deal, it was only a bunch of equipment, right? The harsh gleam of the overhead fluorescent lights on stainless steel shouldn’t be that damn upsetting, it shouldn’t.

Shoulda woulda coulda, and fuck it all, because it damn well was, and the bitch of it was that Stretch wasn’t even sure why.

He started to turn around. Not to get back into the elevator, no, he wasn’t peacing out. Only to breathe for a minute, use those hard-learned tactics for controlling an incipient panic attack that Doc Lee spent the past year trying to pound into his hard skull. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but Stretch got the idea that they’d all been thoroughly tested already on Sans.

Close his sockets, focus on breathing deeply through his mouth. In for four, hold it, out for four. He was supposed to be so damned good at math, he could manage that much.

What felt like a hard, rubbery fist clenched in his chest was starting to ease when he heard someone calling his name.

“Stretch!” He turned to see Alphys almost scurrying up and her smile was warm enough despite the trifle of worry in her eyes.

Yeah, okay, better to keep her worries on the right path. Stretch hung on a 100-watt smile and beamed it right her way, “hey, lizard lady, how’s it going? i didn’t even have a chance to ring the bell.”

She held up her phone. “I g-get an alert when certain k-keycards are used in the elevator. C-come on, come to my office.”

Going to her office sounded like a super plan.

Stretch followed after her as she led a path through the maze of metal tables and equipment, the other scientists in their long white coats. He knew the way to her office, but it was easier to focus on the long yellow tail poking out of the back of her lab coat, concentrate on keeping that breathing nice and even.

Alphys wasn’t always the most observant person out there when it came to social cues, but she sure as hell understood anxiety. She knew he wasn’t keen on the labs. Not from anything Stretch said, not fucking likely, but he was pretty sure Ass-gore had a top-secret file on him somewhere with a nice long list of his skills sets and another one of his phobias. He kinda thought the skill list was longer, not enough to bet on it. He hoped whatever pictures they stuck in it caught his good side, namely his ass.

The second Stretch was through the office door, Alphys closed it, shutting out all the bustling sounds and reflections, and the relief of it being out of sight, out of mind, made Stretch let out an explosive sigh.

Alphys gave him a nervous smile as she gathered a stack of folders out of the guest chair. “So-sorry about the mess.”

On her desk, bookshelves, and even the chairs were cluttered piles of papers and diagrams, surrounded her computer monitors like flimsy skyscrapers, the bright corners of manga books poking out from random levels, and empty coffee mugs standing around like statues.

There were toys, too, statues and plushies both, one that looked distinctly like smiling piece of poo, another of dragon, curled around one of the coffee mugs. On her desk was a figure from ‘Mew Mew Kissy Cutie’ and that gave Stretch a little pang to see.

Back home, (no not home, not for a long time now) it was ‘Bow Wow Smootchie Beauty’, the main character an anime girl with adorably floppy ears. For the first time in longer than Stretch could remember, a longing twinge for Undyne rose up in him. Not this world’s Undyne, his Undyne, and he hated phrasing it that way, but he couldn’t think of something better.

He and Undyne hadn’t been besties, but they’d still been friends. Close enough that he’d gone to her place a few times to hang out, watch anime, and chatter on about the episodes and what was the best kind of cup noodles. So many words tossed back and forth about nothing at all. So long as they stayed in her rooms and out of the lab proper, it didn’t bother him, and Undyne never brought up her work, even when it was kinda obvious she wanted to.

That wistful look started showing up more and more, and Stretch stopped going even before everything went to shit in Underswap. There was something for his regret bucket. That he hadn’t taken the time to keep up his end of the bargain, hadn’t invited her over to his place for some movie viewing and yeah, she hated Snowdin, but he hated Hotland, so it was a fair trade. What wasn’t fair was knowing that if he’d been in Underswap, he would’ve gone to Undyne about this problem, without ever letting her talk about her work. Watched her nervously rub her hands together, half her face obscured by her long hair, hiding behind that curtain.

Stretch blinked hard, tearing his gaze away from the little figure and focused back to Alphys’s concerned face. Underswap was a long time ago and he needed to keep the count his of personal issues to one hand, thanks.

“hey, so thanks for meeting with me,” Stretch said. He plunked down into the chair while Alphys sat at the one at her desk, specially designed to allow for her tail. He didn’t bother resisting the urge to reach for his lighter, letting the rhythm of weaving it through his fingers soothe him.

“No problem,” Alphys said, “we got off c-course with t-tracking your HP. Is it t-troubling you again?”

“let me get straight to the meat of it,” Stretch said, “i want you to run another scan on my hp, then you can tell me.”

She nodded. “Have you been h-having any symptoms?”

“i’ve been really tired lately, run down,” Stretch admitted, “i take a nap and i wake up still tired. i can fall asleep anywhere.”

Alphys hummed thoughtfully, “S-sounds like Undyne r-right now.” She gave him an unexpectedly teasing look, "Are you s-sure you aren't p-p-pregnant, too?"

"har, har, al." Stretch about sprained an eye light rolling them as hard as he could. “unless i grew some unexpected equipment, there won’t be any knocked up at my door.”

"Well, in theory, s-soul mating c-could result in the c-creation of a souling, there were experiments—"

"in theory, sure,” Stretch interrupted, unreasonably annoyed; he didn’t want to talk about experiments, thanks. “but that requires rubbing two souls together long enough to make a fire. since edge and i stick with rubbing pelvises, i'm going with not." Stretch shuddered; just the thought of it was nightmare fuel. "sorry, preggies is okay for people who want it, but i'd rather donate a femur to the cause.”

"I th-think I wouldn't have m-minded," Alphys said, shyly. "But Undyne has better HP than me, so we d-decided she should be the one to c-carry the baby.”

Even talking about this was making him a little uncomfortable, but Al had the look of someone who wanted to talk, maybe needed to. She was doing him the favor, here, the least he could do was listen. Probably Al didn’t get to talk about it much, since she wasn’t the one with the bump.

The memory of his Undyne made him push aside his discomfort. Stretch forced a chuckle and said, "heh, if that's the deciding vote, then if we were gonna baby it up, Edge would be the pregnant one."

"He would have very f-fashionable maternity clothes. He and Undyne c-could bond over prenatal yoga." Alphys looked at him curiously, rocking back in her office chair, “P-pardon me for asking, but are you t-two looking for a surrogate, then?”

“fuck, no!” Stretch blurted. Yeah, that might have been a little excessive, Alphys winced, cringing into herself. Stretch tied on his smile again, “sorry, sorry, that was rude.”

Alphys shook her head, and her words were gentle and nonjudgmental, “N-not at all, it’s a p-p-private decision, I shouldn’t have p-pressed.”

Probably not. He and Al weren't specifically close, as friends or anything else, so Stretch wasn't sure why his stupid mouth chose to add, "i really don’t want kids and edge…i mean. he says he’s fine with it.”

If Alphys was surprised to hear him toss out that conversational gambit, it didn’t show. She only leaned in, her eyes kind behind her glasses, “You d-don’t believe him?”

Wasn’t that the ten-dollar question? Stretch really wished he was sure about the answer. He wanted to believe Edge, maybe Edge even believed himself, tried to, anyway. Stretch looked down, away from Alphys’s gaze, and said in a small voice. “i don’t know.”

“Hm.” Alphys stood and waddled over to stand next to him. Even sitting, he had to look down at her as she settled a clawed hand on his shoulder, “I really want this baby,” she said, clearly, “But I th-think if Undyne d-didn’t want to have kids, I’d be okay w-with that.”

There was enough quiet sincerity in that to make him swallow hard against a knot settling in the back of his throat. “yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alphys smiled, a loving, brilliant smile meant for someone else, someone tall and brash, with a lot of red hair. Not his Undyne, but hers. “I f-fell in love with her, n-not her DNA,” Alphys said, firmly. “Although she does have very n-nice DNA. So maybe you should b-believe him.”

Stretch offered her a smile of his own, one that felt a little wobbly, but hey, it was there. Look at him, communicating back and forth like a grown up and all. Doc Lee would be so proud. “thanks al. congrats by the way. how are undyne and the bump?"

"Impatient," Alphys sighed deeply, and wasn't there chapters of meaning in that one word.

“know much about the sprog yet?” Stretch teased and it felt okay. “gonna be twins? tadpoles?”

She giggled and shook her head. “N-no, the ultrasound is showing one baby. She’s d-due anytime now, it can be d-difficult to gauge with mixed Monster species.”

The scientist in him was a little curious about that; he’d gone for physics over biology. He wondered who they’d gone with for the dad juice, but he wasn’t the kind of asshole who would ask.

“i do like kids,” Stretch admitted, “i just don’t want part ownership with one. bet edge would like to babysit.”

She hummed thoughtfully, “B-be careful with that offer, I’m s-sure we’ll take you up on it. Now, we’ve g-gotten off-topic.”

Stretch winced. “yeah, sorry, sorry, i know you’re busy.”

“Not so busy that I can’t h-help,” Alphys countered. She turned around to scrabble through the clutter on her desk, came back with a notepad and a pencil. The tip of the pencil hovered over the paper, ready to write, “Now, you’ve been t-tired. What are you getting when you run a Ch-check?”

Of course she’d ask that, it made sense, it was the very first thing to be done to see a Monster’s stats. Quick, painless, and loaded with info, and Stretch didn’t really have a good reason for not doing one already, past ‘don’t wanna’.

Time to face the tunes. “i haven’t run one,” Stretch admitted quietly, “i know, i know, i’m wasting your time--”

“Hm? No, I don’t think so,” Alphys scribbled something down on the notepad. “Anything else out of the o-ordinary?”

“i thought about it and the only thing i can think of is i’ve been doing a lot healing lately, more than usual.” He didn’t say why and Alphys didn’t ask. “a lot of shit’s been going down. honestly, i don’t even know if something is wrong, but if there is, i wanted to get a leg over on it, get checked over before anything worse crops up.”

“You’re t-tall enough to get a leg right up over my h-head,” Alphys said, and the gentle tease soothed. Right up until Alphys set aside the notepad and picked up a tablet with a pair of electrodes dangling from it. “Right then, l-let’s run some t-tests. Can you summon your soul?”

Fuck, he hated this part. Or maybe hated was too strong a word. It wasn’t that bad, really, Stretch was used to a certain clinical touch on his soul from time to time, he got sick too often not to be. Used to the feel of gloved hands holding it steady to slip in an IV needle, or to attach leads, or to take a minuscule sample to study under a microscope, checking for what kind of germ hooked its wagon to his personal shining star this time. He was pretty numb to the whole ordeal at this point.

If he were honest with himself, and hey, sometimes he was, it hadn’t felt quite so invasive until he’d let Edge go hands-on with it. No one else had ever cradled his soul in a gentle hand, gazed at the silvery light that poured out of it with adoration. Sure as hell no one else had ever seen it during sex, rubbed a careful, bare thumb across its smooth surface and dragged such toe-curling pleasure out of him he’d damn near fainted from it.

Yeah, it was hard to sit back down in the waiting room once you got a glimpse of paradise.

He summoned up his soul, and didn’t watch as Alphys went to work. She was professional and gentle, hooking up the leads with barely even a pinch. She tapped the tablet and almost instantly, her expression changed into something... complicated. Um. That didn’t seem good. “what?”

“Oh, it’s n-nothing, let me--”

“it’s not nothing, you look like someone gave you a pinch on the ass. what is it?”

“It’s n-nothing bad,” Alphys corrected. “L-let me finish first, hasty c-conclusions lead to bad r-results.”

True enough but that was easier to deal with when it came to his experiments on growing better yielding plants through hydroponics, not so much when it was his soul on the line.

He waited impatiently while she poked at the tablet and managed to give her all of three minutes before bursting out, “okay, so what’s going on?”

“See for y-yourself.”

She held out the table and on it was a screen was a visual display of all his stats, from his soul pulse (running too fast) to his defense (sitting at its normal too-low), to his HP, displayed down to the tiniest decimal.

His HP, which had been slowly ticking upward for the past few weeks, was still doing it. Only now it was above five, closer to 5.3453367883. The last three crawled upward as he stared, turning to a unaccusing four.

“it’s going up,” Stretch said blankly. Way to state the obvious, there. His mind wasn’t calculating anything past that, nothing beyond his initial shock. He’d been expecting bad news, braced to hear the worst, and this was the exact opposite. It was like a trash bag breaking open to reveal piñata candy inside.

“Y-yes!” Alphys said happily. She tapped a clawed finger on the tablet screen. “It’s s-still going at the same r-rate as before, only it’s traveled p-past your base HP!”

“but…why?” Pointless question, what did it matter so long as it was going up, but Stretch didn’t like mysteries, not on television and not in life. He liked answers.

“That’s harder to d-determine,” Alphys admitted. “You d-did say you’ve been getting more rest lately, but th-that usually causes a one-time boost, n-not a cumulative effect. You said you’ve been using your m-magic a lot m-more, yes?”

“yeah, more than i usually do around the house.”

“M-maybe you should keep that up.” She snatched up the notepad and started scribbling furiously, leaving Stretch to gingerly remove the leads himself and allow his soul fade back into his chest. “T-take more shortcuts, practice a few a-attacks. We aren’t meant to hoard our m-magic in our souls, we need to l-let it out, k-keep it from going stagnant.”

“i guess i could.” Shortcuts, anyway, Stretch wasn’t really keen on making any sort of attack, not even for the magic drain, thanks.

“I think you should t-t-try it,” Alphys said decisively, “For th-this week, work on using your m-magic more than usual, then come back and we’ll r-run another test. It’s worth investigating.” She paused. “Of course, there is a-another possibility.”

“what?”

Her smile was a little tremulous, “M-monster souls response well to h-happiness.”

Before Stretch could say anything to that, his phone rang, showing an incoming call from the main source of his current happiness.

Fuck, he’d told Edge to call on his lunch.

He held up a shushing finger to his mouth and Alphys nodded, even as he swiped to answer it, “babe! i was just thinking about you—”

“I hope they were kind thoughts and not nefarious plans.” Just the sound of his voice was soothing, the soft underlying humor wrapped around his concern, “How are you feeling?”

Too much enthusiasm was going to set off alarm bells, so Stretch settled for, “better, i think. more myself, anyway.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, love,” Edge said warmly. “Then if you’re feeling better, perhaps you’d like to come upstairs to my office and have lunch with me?

Welp, so much for secrets. He should have known better to even try at the Embassy. If the spy gear didn’t get you, the gossips sure did. “who tattled.”

“I’m afraid I can’t reveal my source.”

Yeah, about the only person that took out of the running was Andy, and only because he’d promised not to tell. “yeah, i’ll be up in a mo’.”

“Wait,” Came unexpectedly from Alphys. “C-could you ask Edge to c-come down here? For a few m-moments?”

“um, sure, al,” Stretch said slowly and all his relief about his HP started to curdle until she hastily spoke up again.

“It’s n-not about you. O-or it is, but n-not in that way, it’s n-nothing bad, only an experiment I’m doing. I c-could use both your help.”

That didn’t sound at all ominous or anything, did it. But he owed a favor and Stretch did like to pay off his tabs. Eventually.

“babe, can you come down to the labs, to alphys’s office?” Stretch said into the phone. “she says it’s nothing bad.”

“Of course,” Edge replied, surprised, “I’ll be down in ten minutes.” The call disconnected and left him alone again with Alphys for ten long minutes, ten minutes that he didn’t really want to discuss experiments in until Edge was here. He could give Alphys that much, more than he’d ever given his Undyne.

But only when Edge was here, that was the thing and it was okay; Edge might be the one with all the strategy, but Stretch had a trick or two up his sleeve, too.

“did you see the last mew mew kissy cutie holiday special?”

Alphys brightened visibly and took the bait, babbling her way excitedly into his trap. Stretch settled back into his chair to listen, for at least ten minutes, but his wandering thoughts were more on his HP and that slow upward tick.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Earth Girl(Rey x Reader) Four

Summary: After leaving Takodana the First Order is chasing you forcing you and Rey to try some drastic solutions.

Words: 1, 663

A/N: As I said before this is a very small series, just three more chapters to go now so hope you enjoy it.

“It’s him” Rey murmured.

“Who?” you asked a bit confused but you were more worried about the big intimidating ship in the distance.

“No time, we have to leave the system.” she said sitting and taking control of the ship.

You keep staring at the starship carefully, wondering who was she talking about. The Falcon was nothing compared with this new ship, you’ve never seen something as big or that looked as dangerous as it looked But there was a ship coming from the planet you just have left behind.

“Rey.” you called but she was busy pushing buttons on the ship’s console. “Rey!” you said louder finally getting her attention.

“Shit!” she murmured and turned the rudder sending the Falcon flying fast in the opposite direction of the both ships.

Something hitted the Falcon from behind and then you saw red lights flying around the ship, some kind of weapon, you supposed. Rey tried her best to dodge all of those red lights but she seemed distracted, she wasn’t totally focused on flying this big thing and one of that lights caught the Falcon and it suddenly stopped.

“No!” Rey yelled. “They shot down our engines, they’re not damaged but I need to go to turn it on manually.” she explained you as she searched for some tools around the cockpit.

“I’ll go with you” you said.

“No.” she snapped “I need you here, when I turn it on I won’t be able to run and fly the ship, you’ll have to do it, Y/N.” she said.

“Me!?” you shouted “I don’t know how to…”

There was new shot in the side of the Falcon that made the ship tremble and reminded you the closeness of the enemy.

“Fine, what do I do?”

“Just try not to crash it” she told you “And pull this lever, I’ll try to get back as soon as possible. You can do this, Y/N.”

She left without saying another word, rushing to the back part of the ship to fix the problem while you stayed in your seat holding the wheel and the lever as your mind tried to process all that was going on.

“Okay” you sighed “This is like a game, yes, a video game.” you said trying to encourage yourself. “It’s like a game.” you repeated. The shots sounded closer and closer, making your heart pound fast inside your chest.

For a moment you really wished this all would be just a dream and you would be in your bed just waiting for the alarm to wake you up and start a new unexcited day in Earth, but you had established this wasn’t a dream a time ago, so there was no going back now, you had to do anything to survive in a galaxy whose name you didn’t even know.

Then the whole ship started to vibrate underneath your feet, moments later it moved fast. Rey made it. Now the difficult part for you came.

You held the rudder with strength trying to keep it stable and at first it worked nice but as the ship slipped through space the First Order’s ships and the traffickers came closer and closer, obstructing the way. You moved the rudder forward to avoid them and the Falcon raced down way faster than you expected.

“This is nothing like a game!” you shouted feeling the same sensation in your stomach a roller coaster would give. You looked at the lever from the corner of your eyes and carefully stretched your arm to pull it. The distance was too long, so you stretched a little bit more, accidentally pulling the rudder with you so the ship suddenly turned towards that direction.

“Y/N!”you heard Rey’s voice “Keep it stable!”

Turning the wheel towards the opposite direction you managed to keep the old starship flying straight again and tried to pull the lever again, this time you were more careful not to move the rudder. With a fast move you actioned the lightspeed, just in time before the enemies caught you.

“I’m back” Rey told you.

“Thank goodness.” you said relieved as she sat down on her seat. You leaned on your own seat catching your breath as your pulse started slowly getting back to normal. “Please, don’t let me do that never again.” you chuckled, your body still filled with every kind of emotions, fear, excitement, all inside you.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Rey told you “To be your first time piloting, you did pretty good.” she said with a smile.

“I feel like my heart's gonna explode any moment now” you joked with your hand on your chest feeling how fast it was beating.

“Hope not.” she laughed. Then she moved some lever and you got off lightspeed, revealing a new planet. “I talked with General Leia while you were flying. She said we should hide. I asked her if there was a way they would be tracking you through the translator, she said no.” she told you.

“One less thing to worry about.” you said a bit relieved those men couldn’t follow you with that metal piece on your neck. “What about the other ship?”

“It was the First Order.” Rey say now in a rather serious tone.

“And who is he?” you asked unsure.

“Their leader. Can we not talk about this right now?” she said and you nodded.

Both stayed quiet the rest of the short way to the ground, Rey landed gracefully the ship in swampy planet.

It took you a second to know you hated this planet, it was not as nice and pretty as Takodana but you did understand why she picked this one. It was covered with tall and old trees perfect to hide the big spaceship, you looked at them and wondered how old this trees taller than buildings were, probably older than anything you knew. The bad thing about this place was the ground, muddy and almost covered completely with water made it a pain in the ass to walk. The only places that were a bit better where some smalls rocky hills.

“Y/N, come on.” she told you later that day as she gestured for you to follow her up to the small hill near the Falcon.

“What are we doing now, Rey?” you asked with a grin. You finally reached the top.

“You know what this is?” she said as she showed you something very similar to a gun.

“Yeah” you told her, she pointed the weapon towards a rock and shot a powerful red light leaving a small hole in the middle of the rock. “Wow”

“Simple, you aim it, remove the safety lock and pull the trigger. You think you could do that?”

“I think so” you said, she handed you the weapon. “Surprisingly lighter than I thought” you added.

“Try it.”

You held the blaster in your hand for a moment before you aimed to the same rock and pulled the trigger. The blaster barely got closer to the rock, instead it hitted a tree making some very strange creatures fly away.

“Okay, you need some help.” she chuckled. Then she came closer to you, she positioned herself behind you and looked at for your hand, then she guide your arm up. “You have to be sure when you pull the trigger, no time for doubts in battle, hold it steady” she said, you could feel her warm breath on the back of your neck as she explained. “Now” she said and you shot the blaster.

“I did it!” you said excited when you realized the blaster had at least hit the rock creating a new hole in it.

“Do it again” she told you with a smile, her hand leaving your arm as she backed off a little, but she stayed close. You moved your arm and pointed at a new rock remembering her words you shot when your arm was holding the gun steady, hitting the target.

“Did you see that!?” you beamed turning to face her, she greeted you with a bright smile.

"Yeah, you learn pretty fast." She said "now you will survive if for some reason we split up. "

"Hope never happens" you chuckled. You felt Rey's eyes focused on you, a mix of feelings on them. "What is it?" You asked and she smiled.

"I'm really going to miss your laugh." She told you with such affection "and your face, I think I'm never going to forget your face" she said, you felt her soft fingers brushing delicately the side of your face, you placed your own hand over hers to keep it in place.

You knew what she was talking about, you still had to go back to Earth were you belonged.

Rey leaned her face closer to you, doubting at first she closed the distance between your lips in a brief kiss. With a smile you pulled her into a new and more passionate kiss, enjoying every minute her soft lips were on yours. You saw a bright smile curving her lips and a soft pink blush on her cheeks as she broke the kiss.

"And now I'm certainly going to miss that too." She said before planted a new but short kiss on your lips. "We should go back to the Falcon, weather's very chill here". She said You chuckled.

"Okay, let's get back" you told her and followed down the little hill. Looking at her in front of you, you chuckled to yourself, never thought this would ever happen to you, the whole being in space thing, not even in your wildest dreams you thought you would be flying a ship trying to survive and never expected to find this wild love growing in for this girl. People back in Earth used to said usually people find love in the least expected places but this unexpected love was very, very far from what probably all those people meant.

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian , @xgaygremlinx

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

#rey of jakku #rey star wars #rey x reader #rey x y/n #i-write-sometimes-blog #rey of nowhere #rey x you #star wars imagine #star wars #rey #rey imagine #rey of jakku imagine #earth reader #earth!reader

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter Six

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 6,200

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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

Approximately three hours of arguing with herself about staying away from them later, George went to see if Jack and Sam had returned yet. She reasoned that, at this point, they'd been so adamant about her coming that staying away altogether would probably raise a larger red flag than if she just made a quick appearance.

That's not true! I'm just going so that they don't come looking for me. This is definitely the last time. Once I get the kid set up on the games, he'll forget I exist. Then I can slip back to my as-yet-undiscovered-room and wait quietly for Rowena to return and return me home. Everything will be fine. This has nothing to do with the beard.

I have to go to keep seeming uninteresting and innocuous, She reasoned with herself, though she knew it was dangerous. It was also not the real reason she was going.

There was no part of her that believed any of that. Especially as her heart fluttered at the thought of bearded Sam in that tight, gray deep v-neck.

First, she stopped in the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. Then she went to check Jack's room. As she walked up to the open door, she heard the two men talking.

"I don't understand why you don't want to tell me what happened." She heard Jack say.

Sam's annoyed huff made her pause, "I did tell you; nothing happened. She passed out exhausted and I didn't know where else to put her. There are so many new people here right now, I don't know what's an empty bed and what's not."

"OK…" She heard Jack's doubtful reply and then a pause before asking, "If Brent had passed out in your arms, would you have carried him to your bed?"

George grinned devilishly at the implication of the question, covering her mouth with her hand to stay quiet. There was a long, intriguing silence before Sam ordered defensively, "Shut up."

George decided to take that as her cue. She stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat, "'Shut up,' huh? Interesting parenting philosophy." She smirked as Sam started a bit and looked over at her. Presumably, he was wondering how much of that conversation she'd heard, and she felt in no hurry to fill him in.

Jack smiled at her and pointed to a surprising amount of booty on his bed and the floor in front of it, "George! They had everything on your list! Oh, except Mario 64."

Looks like the shoe's on the other foot, She thought smugly.

"Wow, really?" Her eyes went wide when she saw the small flat screen TV box leaning against the footboard and she looked at Sam with a surprised chuckle. She guessed Sam really wanted to keep Jack occupied. "And you bought it all, I see, awesome! Did you want some help setting up?"

"Yea, come in!" Jack nodded enthusiastically, waving her in, and then began unpacking his loot. George hesitated for a second as Sam watched Jack lay out all the equipment to start getting it set up.

Bitch, I don't know why you're taking pause now! You brought the damn beer. You planned this; just go in already.

With a quick, annoyed shake of her head to quiet the smug voices, she finally stepped into the room.

When she got close to him, Sam smiled, "Hey."

"Hi," George returned his smile nervously. "I don't remember that being on my list," Sam followed her gaze to the flat screen and then squirmed a bit, guiltily. Motioning to the rest of the stuff, she asked with a chuckle, "Feeling a little bit of dad guilt over something?"

Sam feigned ignorance, "Hmm?"

"I mean, OK, you needed the system and some games but…" Her eyes ran over the huge pile of game cartridges on the bed, wide with judgement. "And the TV? Kinda screams single-divorced-dad overcompensation. And I speak from experience."

"Oh, are you a divorced single dad, too?" Sam joked.

George snorted and corrected, "Raised by one… well, on Wednesdays and every other weekend. And he worked weekends… and most Wednesdays, so…" She trailed off with a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug and Sam nodded, understanding the semi-absent dad thing.

"I can definitely relate to the unavailable father," Sam's tone was serious but there was a smile on his face.

George stared at him curiously for a minute, Supernatural episodes flashing in her mind, and then nodded, "Oh, yeah, I guess you can." She was still getting used to television characters being real people. When he furrowed his brow curiously at her, she quickly said, "Anyway, yea, uh-expensive presents helped ease my dad's guilt about not really being there. That's how I got most of my video game experience." Just as he opened his mouth to respond, she held out a beer with a questioning look and said, "I think I owe you one or two of these? Although, seeing as this one is also from your fridge, think of this as more of a symbolic gesture. Since I can't actually repay you."

He chuckled and took the beer with a soft, "Thank you. And, no repayment needed. Trust me, we're just happy to be able to help. All of you." He was referring to the people from the camp again and she grimaced as a twinge of guilt zapped through her. Lying to him made her feel awful.

While it seemed like Jack was focused on unboxing the TV and not paying much attention to them, she held up the other beer and asked quietly, "Can he? I wasn't sure if you let him, but I brought it just in case."

Sam frowned a little and shrugged, "My brother lets him and I… choose my battles," he finished with a sigh. George smiled and nodded understandingly.

Seeing Jack was still preoccupied, she shrugged after a moment and offered, "Well, I don't normally drink beer but I can just say it's mine? He may not even ask for one."

Sam nodded appreciatively, snapping the bottle cap off his and tossing it into the garbage can in the corner. As she watched him raise the cold bottle to his lips, she couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous, newly bearded face. As he took a swig, her mouth went dry. Luckily, she was able to look away just before he caught her staring and she mentally kicked herself.

He raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed she didn't join him. Setting his drink down on the desk next to him, he reached out to take the unopened beer from her. "Ya know, it's more believable that you're drinking it, if it's actually open?"

"Oh, right," She let out a 'heh' of embarrassment as he popped the cap off and tossed it into the can as well. Taking it back from him, she admitted, "Like I said, not a big beer drinker."

With a teasing expression, he said, "Hmm… but really anything you drink out of a bottle has to be opened first, right?"

She blushed and smirked at his ribbing. Forcing herself not to laugh with all her might-made more difficult by the fact that she could see him trying not to smirk-she simply said, "Well, like I said, I was a latchkey kid. I typically drink strictly from the garden hose."

Jack finally looked over at them, finished plugging the TV in, and called to her, "George, come check the games!"

She grinned at the small "HA!" he let out at her joke. With a small, mental shrug, she lifted the beer and took a swig.

Fuck it, maybe it'll help calm my nerves. She then heard a smug sing-songy voice say, famous last words.

She walked over and looked at the cartridges that were laid out on his bed, "Nice! Oh, no way! Perfect Dark?!" She picked up the game and clutched it excitedly, "I totally forgot about this one!"

"Yea, I picked up a couple extras that weren't on the list. I hope that's OK, they just looked interesting," Jack said nervously.

"Of course it's OK! You might end up hating my game suggestions-not that that's possible because I have the best taste, obviously, but still. I'm glad you have a few to try on your own." Her grin increased as she looked at the game in her hand again, getting lost down memory lane for a moment. This game had gotten her through some rough patches.

She set it down and glanced over the few that were unfamiliar to her. "These ones I've never played before, so that'll be great. You'll get to actually figure out a few on your own."

"Will it be hard?" He wondered.

"Probably. And you'll most likely get so frustrated that you'll want to tear your hair out and throw the console against a wall. But, it'll be so freaking fun you can't stop. As Charles Dickens said, 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times'."

Sam laughed, picking his beer back up and taking another drink. George couldn't help but grin, drinking hers as well.

Damn if I'm not addicted to that sound.

While Jack was trying to get the console set up, he struggled to hook the system up to the small flat screen he'd placed on his dresser. George came over to help. After a moment, she identified the problem.

Holding up the console's composite cable she huffed, "This TV doesn't have RCA ports!"

"What?!" Sam 'pffted,' coming over to check it, running his hands along the back. When he found nothing, he stood back and put his hands on his hips, "Are you saying we're actually going to have to use our crappy old TVs for this?" He shook his head in disbelief.

George shrugged, "Eh, at least it gives him an authentic experience?"

A short while later they had the system set up on an old tube set and the three of them were playing a few rounds of Mario Kart 64. Jack was sitting cross legged on the edge of his bed. On the floor to his left was Sam, slouching against the bed with his legs stretched out long in front of him. George was to his right, with her knees bent and her feet planted on the ground, sitting straighter upright but also leaning against the bed.

In terms of play, all three were taking it serious. George was a little rusty but her muscle memory helped her quickly grab and keep first place almost every round. Jack was picking it up surprisingly quick but struggled with the strategic aspect of trap setting and disabling opponents. Sam needed a lap to get used to the buttons, but was now smoking Jack and catching up to George with ease.

At the moment they were in the middle of the second lap of their fourth round. Surprising everyone except George and Sam (because they threw it), Jack had won the first round and was very proud of himself. Unfortunately for Jack, he got a little too proud of himself. Her competitive side had roared to life at his boisterous celebration and the boys ate George's dust on the second and third rounds.

Sober George would have known better than to agree to another round. She would never admit it, but Sam had been hot on her tail the entire last round; he'd definitely be able to beat her by the next one. Unfortunately for her, she'd already finished her second beer and was feeling real cocky when they'd both demanded another round of her.

She had warned dramatically, "Alright, but if you're gonna take a shot at the Queen, you better not miss."

George was fairly far out in front and feeling great, when Sam's Peach shot a red shell at her Yoshi and she wasn't able to avoid it. As her Yoshi tumbled, George watched Peach fly past her into first place, a string of inventive curses flew out of her mouth, explaining in detail exactly where she thought Sam could put his red shells. He couldn't help but give her a quick, amused 'wtf' expression at her colorful vocabulary but she was too busy mashing her buttons to get back in gear again.

Just as she was gaining back on him, she gasped when Yoshi flipped over again. Another red shell.

"The FU-JACK!?" Her jaw dropped at Jack, whose Mario drove by and was now in second place. George let out a frustrated screech as the two men high fived each other over Sam's shoulder.

"Looks like we didn't miss, your royal highness," Sam teased, then dodged a kick to the shin with an evil laugh.

When Yoshi was upright and ready to go again, she pressed the A button down so hard her finger turned white. Pulling out all the stops to try and catch up to them again, she finally hit a mystery box. It took all her might to refrain from jumping for joy when three red shells appeared around her kart. Neither Jack nor Sam had noticed. Falsely confident that they'd disabled her, they'd devolved from their joint effort to take her down and were now going against each other. Jack lucked into hitting Sam with a tossed banana peel but Sam was able to out maneuver him on the next few turns and had scooted ahead again already.

George continued to gain on them, using her memory of the course to cut every corner she could and climb her way back up to third place. Sam and Jack were neck and neck, nearing the finish line on the final lap, and smack talking each other. They were barely paying attention to her and she waited for just the right time, before mashing her trigger button. Her red shells launched rapid fire. She watched with glee as Peach and Mario flipped over and stalled mere feet from the finish line.

As Yoshi sailed past them both and crossed in first place, George leapt up from her spot on the floor in triumph, "YES!" Sam and Jack flinched in pain; they were pretty sure everyone in the bunker had heard that.

"Tried to take me out, huh?" She asked Sam, then turned to Jack, "Didn't think I could get back up, did you? How ya like me now?" They were both trying to hide their annoyed grins and she continued, "You want to know why I always play Yoshi? Because he ain't a BITCH, and Neither. Am. I." She mic-dropped her controller onto the bed and did a victory dance in place. "Both. Of. Y'all. Can. SUuuUUuuUUuck. IiiiiIIiIIiiiIIiiit!" She sang joyfully, punching her arms into the air.

"Suck what?" Jack mumbled at Sam in exasperation, bummed that he'd lost again.

"Er-Nothing. It's just a saying, don't worry about it," The other man assured with a nervous throat clearing.

George quickly stepped over Sam's outstretched legs to the open space at the foot of Jack's bed. Jutting out her hip and placing a firm hand on it, she promptly began cat walking back and forth while singing, "Walk, walk, fashion baby. Work it. Move. That Bitch cuh-ray-zee." Jack was far more annoyed at losing than Sam, but they were both incredibly amused at her flamboyant, over-the-top reaction.

Sam watched her display with a smile and, after a moment, commented, "OK, Cindy Crawford, I'm cutting you off."

Pausing her catwalking to victory dance in front of him, she then lobbed, "And why? Don't like having your ass handed to you by a drunk woman?"

"You LUCKED out with all those red shells, George!" Jack argued defiantly.

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be a sore loser," George admonished jokingly, still wiggling her hips in delight.

"Yea, you're clearly only allowed to be a sore winner around here," Sam said pointedly with a chuckle. When George froze mid victory dance, her butt no longer bouncing in front of him, Sam regretted saying anything.

She scrunched her nose at him in offense, holding her hands up in surrender, "OK, fine. Yes. If it hadn't been for those red shells I would have been in third place."

Sam gave her a smug grin and said, "That's right."

She continued sweetly, "And obviously Jack would have won." A triumphant smile spread on Jack's face and he nodded his head in gracious acceptance of her determination.

"Thank you, yes-wait, what?" Sam started to agree with her and then it registered what she'd actually said. He did a double take. She knew darn well Sam would have won that round, but the smirk on her face told him she'd never admit it. Curiously, he was as turned on as he was infuriated.

Then, George added, "But the entire game is luck, dude! Most video games are. If you can't handle this, I would stay away from Mario Party," She warned in a serious tone.

Jack and Sam exchanged a serious look, then looked back at George. They had the same determined expression and Jack said, "Let's do it," while Sam nodded in agreement. He was having fun for the first time in weeks.

Maybe months, he thought grimly. He also hoped she'd say yes so he could do everything in his power to make her win and score another full frontal victory dance.

George laughed a little and nodded, "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's fun as hell, but no one wins at Mario Party. No. One," She finished ominously.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom before we keep going," Jack got up and headed for the door. He turned back with a thoughtful look on his face and said, "I might go to the kitchen for some snacks, too. Do you want anything?"

George shrugged, "Well, here's the situation Jack: I'm gonna say no but I will most likely steal some of whatever you bring back. So, I would say just accommodate for that and you should be golden."

Sam chuckled and said out of the corner of his mouth, "There's a life lesson in women if I've ever heard one." He avoided acknowledging the dirty look she shot him and shook his head at Jack, "Nothing for me, thanks."

After Jack left, George gave Sam a suspicious look and teased, "No more beer? Hmm, I see what you're doing."

Sam gave her a 'feigned innocence' expression and murmured, "Hmm?"

"You can stop drinking all you want; I can beat you, sober or not," Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a mean mug.

He chuckled, but said, "Truthfully, asking Jack to bring me a beer felt a little-"

"Alcoholic single dad?" George finished with a laugh and he joined her, nodding in agreement.

"Right," Sam pointed a quick finger in the air. "Not a great look," He said, standing up with a groan. "Yikes, shouldn't have been slouching like that. The older I get the less forgiving my back is."

"Have you ever tried a massage?" She asked, almost absentmindedly as she was distracted by him. His full height always took her breath away at first; she loved it.

Sam considered her question for a moment. Looking her over appreciatively, he asked with a teasingly incredulous tone, "No. Why, are you offering?"

That snapped George out of her stupor and she blinked rapidly. Thinking she hadn't heard him correctly, she asked "Oh, what? Oh, no! Er-I-I mean, I just, I wouldn't know where to begin. What? No, I mean I wouldn't know what I was doing. Not-no, I know what I'm doing I just-I'm not a professional. I-" Stop talking. Stop talking, now! George felt a bit warm and started fanning herself, "Hoo d'awgy, is it hot in here or just me? Maybe you should cut me off," She finished with a nervous laughter.

He had watched her nervous, adorable rambling gleefully, chuckling once or twice. Whenever he was near her, an eerie pressure would build in his chest that was reminiscent of feelings he'd thought were long since lost to him. He realized it was that feeling that spurred him on to be so flirtatious. At her last statement though, he reigned himself in and answered her question more earnestly to help break the tension and give her a chance to calm down, "I'm not so big on strangers touching me. And I worry about how sanitary those places are," he finished with an exaggerated shudder.

It had been kind of him to cut her a break, but when he started stretching out the kinks from his prolonged seat on the floor, any chance she had of calming down disappeared. She couldn't help but admire his physique. Her eyes trailed his body once over but then quickly settled back on his beard. She could kill the show producers for not letting him be bearded sooner than Season 14. 'Smoldering' didn't even begin to cover it.

She hadn't realized that she'd gotten lost in thought about those sexy whiskers until she heard his throat clearing. Widening in horror, her eyes quickly met his, which looked half amused, half curious.

With a lick of his lips, which made George's brows furrow with desire, he asked gently, "Is there something on my face?"

"No!" Gulping, she blushed from head to toe. After thinking about it for a split second, she heard a buzzed voice in her head say fuck it, you've already embarrassed yourself. Tilting her head to the side, she boldly proclaimed, "Well, actually…Yeah!" A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she tried to figure out how to say this without giving anything away. In her inebriated state, she finally settled on, "The last time I saw you, your face was less… Hagrid?"

Sam let out a loud laugh, a look of mock offense on his face. She covered her mouth as she snickered, realizing maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to say.

"Oh, wow! Hagrid, huh? I… Well, I'm not sure how to take that. Maybe I should go shave real quick," He teased sadly, rubbing a slow hand over his beard. It made her weak kneed.

"No! Please don't! I'm sorry," She leaned forward and gently squeezed his forearm with both her hands, then let go. "I was just trying to make you laugh! And I couldn't think of an attractive bearded man reference fast enough; Hagrid was the next best thing."

"Nah, you're right. Hagrid was good; you had to do it," He shrugged in acceptance. Squinting at her curiously, he asked, "But, just to clarify, you don't think I look like Hagrid, right?"

She snorted and then looked unsure. As she spoke she slowly craned her neck up, "Well, now that you mention it, he was half-giant!" Another laugh escaped him and she bit her lip to keep from grinning. The sound mixed with the beer was lowering her inhibitions a bit and she ran her eyes over him quickly in appreciation. Before she could stop herself, she assured him, "Seriously, though. The beard looks good. You look…" All the descriptions she could think of were too inappropriate even for her less inhibited state. Finally, she breathed, her eyes wide for emphasis, "good."

Sam gave her a shy, sexy smile and he looked down at the ground for a minute. She could swear the skin of his cheeks near the top of his beard was slightly pink.

Was he hiding a blush behind all that rugged? George wondered, watching him closely. Her stomach was nearly painfully tingling with nausea; she knew she should stop but fuck, when was she ever going to get this opportunity again?

Sam looked back up at her, the look in his eyes making her gulp, and asked with a questioning shrug, "'Good,' huh?"

George could tell he was baiting her but unfortunately her rational side was beating her horny/ buzzed side back with a stick, trying to keep control. So, she simply nodded and gave him a flirty smile, confirming, "Yes. Good." The word came out as a painful purr that caused Sam's eyes to darken curiously. George unconsciously licked her lips; it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Hmm," was the noise that broke the silence finally, rumbling heavily from Sam's chest. He was feeling very conflicted. For one, the alcohol was obviously affecting her and he wasn't trying to take advantage. But also, she was causing him to feel a lot of intense and strange feelings, feelings that hadn't been stirred up in years, and he couldn't explain why. He'd just met her! Knew almost nothing about her, yet he was flirting with her left, right, and center like he was… well, Dean! It felt so comfortable around her; he felt a calming sense of ease, as though his life wasn't a giant crapshoot of terrible day in and day out. That feeling should have been foreign to him but it wasn't completely. That's what terrified and confused him.

They'd been staring intensely at each other. George thought it seemed like he was holding himself back; she recognized the look and assumed it was the same one on her face right now. Running a suddenly nervous hand through his hair, he huffed a little and smiled.

"Well… thank you," His tone sounded as sincere as it did nervous. "I-"

Just then Jack came back and broke the tension in the room. George released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned to look at him. Balancing in his arms were two packs of red vines, one large bag of peanut M&Ms, six beef jerky sticks, two 'sharin' size' bags of Cheetos, and four Yoohoos.

The intensity of the previous moment paired with the absurd amount of food made her exclaim, "Dude!" The laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it; she got near tears. Sam joined her with distinct but far less intense chuckles at Jack's attempts to interpret George's earlier instructions.

"What?" Jack asked curiously, "You asked me to account for you wanting some! I figured it was more efficient to just bring you your own."

"Ah, yes, a classic mistake, Jack. Half the fun is eating the other person's food," Sam teased.

George shook her head and sighed out the last of her laughter, "Oh, man. That was great. OK, I have to pee and then we'll have a talk about appropriate food portions before the game. Also, the fact that you brought peanut M&Ms and not caramel is near criminal."

Sam followed her out the door, saying, "I think I've changed my mind on that beer. I'll be right back, too."

"Grab me one?" She requested over her shoulder and he nodded affirmatively.

On her way back to Jack's room, George was wringing her hands nervously. Her mind was racing; she'd barely been able to concentrate on peeing! There was a heated debate going on in her head about what the hell she thought she was doing. A very large, very selfish part of her had not wanted to hold herself back. But she was skating on thin ice. Thin? Try imaginary! You seriously believe Sam Winchester is flirting with you? You have lost your damn mind. You look like a bumbling moron to him. A total Becky! Not to mention, he's a 10 and you're an Idaho six, if we're being generous.

The unnecessarily hurtful arguing in her head silenced instantly when she rounded the corner and found Sam in the hallway, sans beer. He was nervously pacing about 6 feet from Jack's room. She gulped; he looked agitated all of a sudden. Was he about to give her a talk about being inappropriate and how they should just "be friends?" She heard a voice sing-song in her head: I told you so, six.

Forcing herself to move forward once again, she tried to steal herself for the blow. To her surprise, his expression shifted to regret when he noticed her finally.

"Hey," He started, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but-" he held up his phone with a grimace.

"You have a hunt," George finished slowly with an understanding-and incredibly relieved-head nod. She watched Sam glance back at Jack's room with sad eyes. It clicked after a moment and she added with a less understanding tone, "And you want me to keep Jack distracted while you go?"

Sam gave her an adorable, pleading face, "Yes, please? I already broke the news to him and he's… upset about not being able to come."

George frowned, "Dude, are you seriously leaving me here by myself to entertain him? Sam!" She stomped her foot quietly, mock upset, "I don't know anything about what young adults are into these days. SnapChat? Four Loco? Miley Cyrus?!"

"Hey, look at this as an opportunity to finally play those real deep cuts from Avril," Sam joked back and George punched his arm gently; both laughed.

"OK, but really, do you have any tips for how to handle a teenage boy who's pissed because he can't go kill things?" She looked nervously toward Jack's room. "How do I cheer him up?"

"Well, I think we both know what you're going to have to do," Sam said with a deep, apologetic sigh. George raised an eyebrow curiously. Sam raised both of his and widened his eyes with a pointed head tilt in response. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she began to see where he was going with this and his head started nodding slowly.

"No," George said matter of factly, starting to shake her head. "No!"

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but-"

"I refuse!" She dug her heels in and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Now, now," He began in the same tone you would use to speak to a toddler. "You asked how to make him happy."

"I am not going to debase myself like that, Sam. No!"

"Listen, I know it's hard! But you've done it once already! Was it really tha-"

"Horrible! You of all people should understand why this is a terrible thing to ask! You had to do it once, too!" She uncrossed her arms and pointed at him, demanding, "Look me in the eye and tell me a little piece of your soul didn't die the last time?"

"Oh it wasn't that bad," Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That's easy for you to say, Sam! You're bad at it! But, I have a reputation to protect!"

"OK, Kinicki, well if you want Jack to have fun, you're going to have to suck it up and let him win at Mario Kart!" When she huffed, shaking her head in continued defiance, he rolled his eyes and offered a compromise, "Every once in a while!"

After a few moments of mean mugging each other, neither one willing to give in, they both just started laughing. Once their laughter died down, he gave her a serious, apologetic expression and said, "Georgia, I really am sorry to do this… I was having fun."

As he used her full name, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. With a gentle shake of her head, she waved him off, "Don't be sorry; you have to go. And truly, I don't mind. Jack's actually a pretty cool kid…" She trailed off and then furrowed her brow in mock concern, "or am I a lame adult?"

He chucked, then shrugged and said, "Well, if you are then I am."

"Good thing Dean didn't hear you say that," She joked, shooting a finger gun at him. The look on his face in response was indiscernible and she kicked herself. "Shit, sorry. That was insensitive. With Michael and everything, I-I didn'-"

Sam waved his hand in the air and cut her off, "Nah, I know you didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking how accurate the statement was, yet… you haven't met Dean, right?"

Her eyebrows went up in sobered surprise. Shit. She gulped and stuttered out, "Oh-right-no, that's right. I haven't… I-I just, uh, I know what it's like to have a big brother! He's-he is your big brother, right? I mean, I think I've heard Jack or someone say that…" Sam's brows furrowed further, looking at her curiously and nodding slowly in confirmation. "Right, well, yea. I just-I figured since Dean was your big brother, he'd relish the opportunity to make a comment about you being a loser. I know my brother certainly lived for it." She felt like he could tell she was sweating and it made her sweat more.

"Uh huh," Sam said with a slow drawl, not entirely convinced.

As George watched him she became less nervous, realizing that there was a lot of pain behind his bright hazel eyes. It was obvious that he was really worried about his brother; her heart twinged in empathy.

Without thinking, she placed a hand on his forearm and gripped tightly. With a comforting smile she promised, "Don't worry, Sam. You'll find Dean soon."

Sam felt as if the wind knocked out of his lungs as an intense burst of deja vu hit him. It couldn't be… that had been a dream. A fake dream at that! All part of the trickster's mind games trying to get him to give up on saving Dean. Obviously, there was no way this was the same woman. Yet he knew he'd heard that consolation before. From her, he felt sure. But how would he have dreamt about a woman from an alternate reality?

She jumped when she heard someone shout from down the hall, "Sam!"

George was panicking internally. He'd flinched at her words and the look on his face made her sick to her stomach. She let go of his arm quickly. Had she gone too far? Had she offended him? Was he just disgusted at being touched by her? A million thoughts raced through her mind as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Sam snapped out of his stupor and furrowed his brow a bit. "COMING!" He boomed in their direction and then looked back at her in apology. Though he still seemed perturbed by something.

George smiled understandably, eternally grateful for the interruption, and began before he could say anything, "You have to go! I'll keep an eye on Jack for a while longer. But I swear to God if he starts trying to talk to me about Fortnite or TikTok or FOOTBALL: I'm. Out."

Sam had moved around her, slowly starting to head for the map room, "Football?"

"I just really hate sports," She deadpanned with a shrug, turning her body around to follow him.

He chucked and nodded, "Ah. Noted." He bowed to her slightly as he backed away, "Well, Thank you again. I owe you a beer now… or maybe a massage?" He offered innocently, adding, "I may not be a professional, but I definitely know what I'm doing." He watched just long enough to see her jaw drop, then with a wink, he turned and left.

When she'd mopped herself up from the floor and had finally started breathing again, George looked up to the ceiling and begged, "I have thirty five thousand dollars in savings and retirement and it's all yours for a copy!"

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #eventual fluff #eventual relationship #eventual romance #eventual dean winchester x oc #eventual dean winchester x castiel #bi!dean

[masterswrd]

tagged by @horrorcupid for this hannibal tag game and i went bananas with it 

favourite episode and why: Su-Zakana! the horse episode! Very gross but I love Peter! Hannibal’s outfits are stunning! Will being an elegant bisexual. We get to meet Margot! “How would you do it?” “With my hands.” I ALSO! Think! That Will is more sad in this episode than he is in all previous episodes. He just got out of being institutionalized for a year, having lost his teaching job. He meets Peter and gets reminded that he’s been abused in the same way. As sexy as the “how would you do it” scene is, I really think Will has no clue what he wants to do with Hannibal. After a year of being separated by bars and chains, he’s finally so close enough to wrap his hands around his throat and once he gets there I don’t think he knows what he would do next, but his whole body would be on fire while he did it. (honorable mention for hannibal petting the sheep) oh and the hands! Will is desperately trying to tune out hannibal. he doesnt want to see him or listen to him because he’s right!! THEN! Hannibal stopping the hammer of Will’s gun and brushing their fingers to directly mirror hannibal and clarice in silence of the lamb! I will never get over Hannibal just holds Will at the nape of his neck and gets so close. when will finally looks at him he’s met with hannibal smiling and looking at him with pure adoration and it kills will so bad that his internalized homophobia jumped out in the next episode where he dreams about hannibal telling him he loves him and has to kill him in the dream because its the only scenario where hannibal would stop loving him and he knows that and it kills him. 

least favourite episode and why: probably Ouef because it feels like a crime procedural more than any of the other episodes and child death / abuse makes me very sad : ( also not gay enough

favourite main character: i hate all these people but probably Will because im a repressed psychotic bisexual who doesnt know whats going on ever. 

favourite side character: freddie all the way. she hates cops, loves drama, and hannibal loves her website and who am i to argue with the guy who has the most taste in the whole show? seems kinda cringe to hate her tbh

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be: abigail! i think she shouldve been able to escape everyone and heal and cut her hair and live in the twin cities and find a girl that kisses her under the minnehaha falls ice cave! 

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: the black chicken soup sounds really good. ive actually been wanting to order the ingredients since soups are my jam and i cook all the time and have enough faith in myself to get it right. 

which side character would you kill off: theres nobody alive that i wouldnt want to stay alive. but i wish we wouldve gotten the scene that they cut of cassie boyle blowing cigarette smoke in hannibal’s face that sounds so funny and on track with the people i know who go to the U of M duluth. 

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at: when will and hannibal look at eachother im just like “turn this shit OFF”

biggest ship: how about FRIENDships, i say kicking the hannibal x will fics im writing under the rug. i think will and margot shouldve bonded more and i wish peter was a recurring character who was best friends with will and had pet play dates. will deserves people that care about him!!

why did you start watching hannibal: i originally started watching it cuz i used to be friends with a will graham kinnie but then i got bored and hopped off after the 3rd episode but this summer i sat down and watched it with my wife and we had no spoilers and went nuts the whole time it was great. 

favourite fic if you’ve read any: We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater along the two other fics in that series. it’s absolutely devastating and im a sucker for time travel / groundhog day kinda stuff and dark will!! it’s great you gotta read it if you havent. 

have you watched any of the hannibal films: yes! after watching manhunter i realized that bryan fuller really did all this cuz will was hot in that movie. there was also a very tender moment between will and dr bloom that i really liked. anthony hopkins is also very good at being a creepy little man and his tiktok account is so damn funny.

have you read the thomas harris books: i’ve read Red Dragon and i wish they but more nasty will in the show where he’s an asshole and cussing. i think its weird that none of the adaptations do a good job and showing will has a shitty marriage and has a temper and him and molly were drifting apart cuz her family hates him cuz he’s nuts and it makes him mad and sad that he cant have anything happy after hannibal. 

favourite murder tableau: probably the heart but when it unravels and starts to like stalk toward will. i think its a good metaphor of will being terrified of hannibal’s love for him

favourite blood spill: margot and alana killing mason. it made me very happy the whole time. 

what’re some of your headcanons: jimmy price has a bee keeping husband and thats why he had bee facts, will is trans and abigail is trans but they’re awkward and uncomfortable so they never feel comfortable to tell the other or how to bring it up cuz they dont want the other to think they’re more weird than they actually are, they both vent about this to hannibal who says “oh gee oh wow what a dilemma” and some shit about butterflies and doesnt help at ALL.  

this was fun!!!! im gonna tag @bisexywill cuz i think all my other hannibal mutuals were already tagged. 

#w.txt #i was writing and then this distracted me so much but in such a good way

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Four

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.” 

― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Previous Chapters HERE

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

12:02pm, October 5th, 1989

“Uhh, earth to Roni.”

A shrill voice followed by a few obnoxiously bubbly giggles brings fifteen year old Roni out of her own mind, and she looks up with a hot face. She uses a finger to push her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, but she knows the voice before she even sees who it belongs to.

Lainey Prescott, one grade above Roni and just about the bane Roni’s existence.

She stands no taller than Roni, her two best friends Olivia and Janet standing on either side of her like her little minions. With their matching pink fingernails and Pom Pom hair accessories, they look like little clones. Roni has to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

This happens nearly every day during free period. They come up to bother her, get their little digs in wherever they can, and then continue walking their laps around the track because they’re “working on their figures.”  Roni has tried everything to put an end to it, even going so far as to sit in the dirt under the bleachers, but they’ve always ended up finding her. So now Roni sits out in the open, expecting it almost every day and thanking her lucky stars when it doesn’t happen.

“Hi, Lainey,” she mutters.

“Hey, super cute high-waters today, Ron!” Olivia and Janet snicker behind Lainey, who looks incredibly pleased with herself.  “Whatcha reading?”

Roni sticks her finger between the pages of her book to mark her place and averts her gaze, ears growing hot. “Nothing.”

Olivia speaks up. “I bet it’s another one of those sci-fi books. We all know she gets off on weird shit like that.”

Olivia’s words feel like a blow to the chest, but Roni keeps her composure and swallows around a lump in her throat. Lainey doesn’t seem to notice when she nudges Roni’s sneaker with her sandal. “No seriously, what is it? Looks cool.”

Roni looks up sheepishly. “Do you really care?”

“Totally, babe.”

Roni lets out a sigh, somehow taking the bait.  “It’s called Timescape,” she explains.  “It’s set in two different time periods: the sixties, and the nineties.”

“Wow,” Lainey says,  “The future.  So cool.”

Roni licks her lips in hesitation before continuing.  “Anyway so, everything in the nineties goes wrong, and this scientist guy is  trying to contact the past so that he can prevent whats happening and essentially stop it in its tracks.”

Roni hears Janet mutter an “oh my GOD, so like time traveling? ” to a ridiculously giggly Olivia, but Lainey doesn’t acknowledge them. She instead raises her eyebrows. “Wow, tell me more, Ron.”

Now Roni knows for a fact that the girls are making fun of her, and she’s about to say something when Lainey adds, “I mean, it must be super interesting. You’ve been sitting over here reading out loud to yourself. Did you know you did that?”  She laughs over her shoulder with the other girls before continuing. “It’s adorbs.  I’m sure any guy would find that super cute.”

“Lainey—“

Lainey cuts Roni off, as if this thought has just occurred to her. “Hey, speaking of, you don’t have a boyfriend yet, right?”

Roni sighs. “I don’t.”

You know I don’t, asshole.

Lainey giggles. “Awww, it’s okay, I figured as much. But listen, my parents are out of town this weekend and I’m throwing a party. It’s gonna be a boy-girl party, and you’re invited. I’m sure we could find you a guy there.”

“Yeah,” Janet adds, “and it’s BYOB. Bring your own Book.” Her stupid joke coaxes a cackle our of Olivia, and Roni rolls her eyes.

It wasn’t even that clever.

“Yeah, you can show us all your super cool time traveling tricks.” Olivia snickers. “Or at least spew out more time traveling facts. That’ll be a hit.”

Lainey smirks. “Totally. You should come.”

What Roni wants to do is tell them to fuck off. She wants to tackle them to the ground, rip the pom poms out of their hair and shove them down their throats until they’re all blue in the face. But she can’t do that, because there’s more of them than there is of her, and frankly they scare her.

So she clears her throat.  “Guys, I don’t think—“

“Oh come on,” Janet groans. “What, do you have to ask your mommy for permission?”

Roni’s heart stops the moment the words leave her mouth, and even Lainey and Olivia shoot Janet an incredulous look, as if even they can’t believe she’s just said that.

Janet looks back at them, completely oblivious. “What?! You know she probably does.”

“Janet,” Olivia says quietly, “you know her mom died.”

Roni doesn’t know why people do that; say “died” around her like it’s a filthy word.   She’s noticed that everyone does it, including her own grandmother, and it makes her feel sick to her stomach every time.

Janet’s mouth forms a wide O shape as the realization dawns on her. “Oooooohhhh. Shit. My bad. But she doesn’t care.” She turns back to Roni. “You don’t care, right? Like, you know we’re just joking around.”

Roni feels her eyes welling with tears and she wills them to stop, please stop— at least until the girls walk away.

“Please leave me alone,” is all she manages to say.

Lainey’s perfect smile returns to her face, only far more nervous than before, and Roni can tell she’s trying to do damage control. “So anyway.”  She glares at Janet before smiling sweetly. “The offer still stands. You better be there, girl.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Roni mumbles at the ground, vision now completely blurred with tears.

“Sweet! Catch ya on the flip side.”  Lainey waves her perfectly manicured fingers in Roni’s direction before she and her minions turn on their heels— each executing a perfect hair flip as they proceed on their way.

When she’s sure they’re out of ear shot, Roni lets out a quiet sob, reaching up to rub at her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. How girls can be so cruel, she’ll never know. But these three in particular have tormented her since elementary school, and it’s exhausting.

She doesn’t know why they do it. Why they can’t just leave her alone.  She’d never spoken a word  to any of them before it began, always minded her own business, and still they were relentless. Even after her mother passed, they kept it going. In fact, it almost seemed to get worse.

But Roni is not about to let them see her cry. Not today.  So she stands, flings her backpack over her shoulder, and walks off.

She doesn’t have a destination in mind, all she knows is that she needs to get far enough away from them as possible— even if that means hiding out in the girl’s bathroom until the end of free period (Which she’s also tried doing before. It didn’t work. They always found her).

She makes her way back into the building, heading straight for her locker.  The halls are surprisingly quiet, which doesn’t surprise Roni.  It’s a gorgeous day out.  That was the whole reason she was even outside in the first place. But then Lainey and her friends had to go ruin it, and now Roni isn’t even sure what else to do except grab some things from her locker and wander aimlessly for the next thirty minutes.

Roni rounds the corner and nearly bumps into someone exiting the boy’s bathroom. She’s about to say something snarky when she realizes who it is.

Staring back at her with an apologetic smile lighting up his entire face, is Oliver Ward.

Oliver is one of her friends, she guesses.  A grade older than her, he’s not exactly considered popular but he has more friends in general than Roni does.  She doesn’t talk to him as much as she should, despite the fact that he’s always treated her with more kindness than most people at this school.  He softens once he recognizes the person he’d nearly taken out.

“Roni! Hey!”

Roni reaches up to wipe at her nose and half-heartedly reciprocates his smile.  “Hey.”  It comes out rather unenthusiastically, and she diverts her gaze from his. She doesn’t mean to come across as so pathetic, and she definitely doesn’t want him to know that anything is wrong.  But the way his face falls when he hears her response lets her know that he is most definitely on to her.

“Have you been crying?”  His question is right to the point, and it makes Roni want to start crying all over again.

“No,” she lies.

“You have,” he says, his voice softening.  “What happened?”

Roni knows there’s no use lying to him, so she shrugs.  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Oliver scowls.  He knows what that means.  “Did Lainey do something shitty again?”

Finally,  Roni looks up and gives Oliver a weak nod.  “I don’t know why she won’t just leave me alone,” she admits.  “I leave her alone.”

“Oh, Ron,” Oliver coos.  “Fuck her. Why don’t you tell someone?”

Roni shrugs again.  “That would do more bad than good, Ollie, you know that.”

Oliver tries his hardest not to smile at the nickname she’s given him.   Nobody’s called him Ollie since the first grade, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s always hated it.  Because for some reason, when she says it, he doesn’t hate it at all.

“I dunno,” Oliver says.  “It might finally put an end to her shit.”  He nods his head towards her.  “Where were you headed?”

Roni sniffs pathetically.  “Anywhere.  Just trying to kill time I guess.”

Oliver smiles.  “You can come with me!  I was just gonna finish up some homework in the library, so I don’t know how interesting it’s gonna be.  But at least you’ll have some company!”

Roni eyes Oliver, weighing her options.  On the one hand, she doesn’t want to tag along; be his little sidekick while he finishes up his work.  The last thing she wants is for him to feel the need to entertain her.  But on the other hand, she figures it’s better than moping around without any direction feeling sorry for herself. And besides, the way Oliver grins at her so full of hope and light, makes it hard to resist.

So Roni giggles and nods.  “Okay.”

“Cool.”  Oliver beams, nodding over his shoulder to signal Roni to follow him.  As they begin walking, he launches right into casual conversation.  “So, what’cha reading?”

Oliver is the kind of person who can hold a conversation with just about anyone and make it feel completely natural.  Roni hasn’t talked to him too many times, but each time she does, she thanks her lucky stars that he’s so good at keeping conversation going because otherwise she knows they would be screwed.

However, her ego is still a bit bruised from Lainey’s words, and she’s not too keen on sharing any more information about this book with anyone else.  “It’s nothing.”

“What?  It looks really cool.  What’s it called?”

Roni can feel her cheeks growing hot, and she refuses to look at Oliver when she answers him.  “Timescape.”

“Ooooh!  That sounds cool.  Is it about time?”  Not a hint of sarcasm is attached to his words, and although Roni can’t see his face she knows he’s genuinely interested.  The thought lifts her spirits just the tiniest bit.

“Kinda,” Roni says.  “It’s like, time travel stuff.  Someone in the future is trying to go back and warn people in the past about like, these catastrophic events happening in the world.  It’s actually really cool.”

Oliver whistles.  “No kidding! That sounds rad.”  They round the corner and open the large doors into the school library.  Oliver lowers his voice as they make their way to a small round table with empty seats.  “Think I could borrow it when you’re done?”

Roni nearly stops walking.  “Are you serious?”

“Yeah!”  Oliver smiles at her, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders and onto the table.  “Hell yeah.  I’d love to read it.”

Roni realizes she’s been smiling because her cheeks ache, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth to hide it.  She clears her throat.  “I mean yeah, if you want to.”

“Sweet!” Oliver starts unloading the contents of his backpack before pausing and looking back at Roni.  “I mean like, no rush or anything.  Finish it on your own terms.  Don’t like, freak out trying to get it to me.”  Roni notices the slight red tint to the tips of Oliver’s ears, and for some reason it’s beyond endearing.  She giggles, taking her seat beside Oliver.  

“Don’t worry, I’m a fast reader anyway.”

Oliver smiles, seemingly relieved.  “Well that’s good.”

There’s a silence that doesn’t necessarily feel awkward, but it’s charged, and now it’s Olilver’s turn to clear his throat.  He turns his attention to the textbook in front of him, opening it up and flipping through to find a specific page.  He effectively changes the subject, but it feels more like a bookmark has been placed on the tension that Roni just experienced.  She doesn’t necessarily hate it, she’s just never felt it before.  Not with Oliver Ward.

“So anyway,” he says,  “Are you any good at chemistry?  I’ve been stuck on this one problem for ages.”  

-----

8:19am, January 2nd, 1925

Roni wakes earlier today, refreshed and optimistic after spending a good bit of the previous night dancing and laughing with Harry.  She feels much more at peace and surprisingly less disappointed to wake up in 1925 than she was yesterday. In fact, she’s optimistic at the prospect of what today might hold, and she’s feeling thankful that she’s here with Harry instead of with any other guy. She does however, feel a pang of guilt at the fact that she’s made Harry spend yet another night on his couch.  She decides she’s going to work something out with him; maybe they switch off the bed every other night she’s here-- for however long that may be.

With a long stretch that cracks her entire body,  she rolls out of bed-- careful not to move too quickly since she’s already seeing stars.  She adjusts Harry’s boxers around her waist, combing her hand through her hair and preparing herself to find Harry cooking breakfast again. Maybe she can even help him. She smiles to herself at the thought.

Roni tries not to think about last night. How good it felt being so close to Harry, and how wonderful he had smelled.  She refuses to acknowledge the tension that had singed the air, the way he’d watched her and clung to her every move, and the way he’d laughed not at her, but with her.  The night had been Roni’s first taste of normalcy in the past few days, and she’s beyond grateful to Harry for making that a possibility-- tension or not.

The closer to the door she gets, however, she notices she doesn’t smell or hear anything. In fact, it sounds almost completely silent in the other room. Harry hadn’t mentioned having to work today.

That’s odd.

She pushes the door open as quietly as possible , deciding that Harry must still be asleep. She doesn’t want to bother him and she figures she can sneak a shower in before he wakes up— effectively minimizing any awkward encounters that involve her in a towel.

And then she sees it.

Roni stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her. There’s Harry, splayed out and sitting so ungracefully-- legs spread wide and toes curling into the carpet beneath the pooling fabric of his trousers, and a hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, eyes closed in concentration as his hand pumps up and down, slower towards the bottom of his shaft and more rapid jerks of his wrist the higher up he gets.  When Roni hears him muttering a curse word under his breath, her blood runs cold.

She can’t help herself. It feels like a train wreck or some other disaster that she can’t help but watch.  He’s so much longer than she would have guessed. Not that she’d given it any thought in the past few days, because truth be told she really hadn’t.  If she’d had to guess, she probably would’ve at least been a bit generous with her assumptions, sure, but never this generous. He’s so well endowed she can’t tell if she wants to drool over it or just shake his hand and congratulate him.

The whole vision is just so… beautiful in an odd way, and Roni’s mouth waters when she spares a thought for what he must taste like.

Get it together, Roni. Fuck.

She turns to head back into the bedroom to leave him to it, but her ears perk when she hears him mutter another curse word and a few other filthy things that he would probably say if he were fucking up into someone.

No fucking way.

She’s not doing this right now. There’s no way she’s going to indulge in any of this, and she knows she really needs to close the door and get back in bed. Never mind the fact that she’d had the same idea as Harry last night once she’d gotten in bed, and had to physically stop herself from doing anything to ease the dull ache and wetness between her legs.  She’d settled on squeezing her thighs together every now and then to see if that would relieve any pressure (it didn’t) and had simply gone to bed telling herself she was absolutely batshit crazy.

She wasn’t going to get herself off in this boy’s bed, and she certainly wasn’t going to entertain any crazy fever dream fantasies about him either.

But now here he is, doing the exact same thing that she’d been so tempted to do, whimpering out what sounds like maybe the filthiest dirty talk she’s ever heard, and she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Harry’s head falls back against the couch, and his eyes flutter closed as an almost inaudible sigh passes his wet lips.  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbles.  “Soaked for me, aren’t you?”

Does this happen often?  Who is he thinking of?  Who, in his mind, is fucking him so good that he’s practically crying alone on his couch?  Roni feels a brief pang of jealousy followed by guilt and a mental slap to the face to remind herself to get it the fuck together.

Roni allows herself a few more moments to watch him tease himself, watching his swollen cock drip with his pre-cum, and she can’t help but to lick her lips when she sees the way his lips curl around his teeth. With eyebrows furrowed, Harry slaps a hand across his mouth to mute his pitiful whimpers.  He’s close, and Roni decides that now is as good a time as any to go back into the bedroom and grant him his privacy.

Silently closing the door behind her, Roni lets out all of her air in one long exhale and stares at the wall opposite her.  Try as she might (or might not), she can’t get the image out of her brain.  How is she supposed to face him later? Is this even something she should bring up? How would she even start that conversation? And what kind of response would that warrant from him? Surely he’d think she was snooping, and probably be mad at her for invading his privacy.

Roni presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, willing the image of him getting himself off to completely exit her brain.  She takes a few minutes to breathe, pacing around the room to get this strangely nervous energy out of her system, before sitting down on the bed with another long sigh.  She knows she’s got no choice but to wait it out now, and for some reason it makes her anxiety a million times worse than it was before.

It’s a few minutes later when Roni hears the bathroom door close, and finally she feels brave enough to make her way back into the living room of the apartment.  She moves slowly, still, as if afraid to make too much noise, and bites at her lip as she makes her way into the quiet room.

No one would ever guess that the events of a few minutes ago had even occurred.  The couch looks completely untouched, the little blanket Harry’s been using at night folded up and slung neaty across the arm.  The air does feel unmistakably hotter in here (or maybe that’s just Roni), but otherwise everything is perfectly still and normal.

She makes her way unsurely into the kitchen.  Should she make herself at home and start cooking?  It would be a nice gesture on her part, and a somewhat wordless apology for the slight invasion of privacy.  Even if she wasn’t outright apologizing, it would definitely clear her conscience.

Roni reaches up to open one of the cabinets to see if there’s anything available to make for breakfast.  It blows her mind that Harry doesn’t have a simple pantry in his apartment, although she’s not even sure a pantry would fit given the size of the place.

She frowns when she’s met with stacks of plates behind the cabinet door.  Where the hell does Harry keep his food anyway?

The refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen is no bigger than a box, and when she opens it she’s met with even less food than she’d been expecting.  Does Harry even eat?

“Oh! Morning!”

Roni turns with a start when she hears Harry’s pleasant greeting, his tone now a stark contrast to the desperate whimper it was just minutes ago.  Roni’s entire body shivers at the memory.

“Hey!” she greets as normally as possible. “Morning.”

Harry walks over to pour himself a glass of water.  “Sleep alright?”

“M-hm!”  Does he know that she knows?

“That’s good.”  Harry smiles, completely innocent.  “You’re up earlier this morning.  Did I wake you?”

“What?”  It takes Roni a moment to realize he’s not referring to that, and she laughs nervously.  “Oh, no, you’re good.  Just like, my natural clock I guess.”

“You’re getting more used to being here.”  Harry grins.  “Wonderful.”

Roni smiles at him a tick too long, and she turns her attention to the cupboards.  “Anyway,” she says,  “Can I help with breakfast?”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“I want to!”

“You’re a guest.”

Roni shrugs.  “Not really.  Not anymore.  I told you I’ve gotta earn my keep around here.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head at her.  “Alright.”  He blows his messy morning hair off of his face and glances around the kitchen, pondering what to even suggest. “Well, I haven’t got much.”

“Eggs are fine again!” Roni suggests, before a thought pops into her mind.  “Actually, got anything to make pancakes?”

Harry beams.  “I think I do.”

“Perfect! Pancakes are my specialty.”

Roni and Harry set to work then, falling comfortably into step side by side as they weave their way around the kitchen.  They launch immediately into conversation as they work, and it all feels so disgustingly domestic and comfortable that Roni almost forgets there’s anything abnormal about her situation. (She also temporarily forgets what she just saw on the couch minutes ago, although every time she catches a glimpse of his hand she is so painfully reminded.)  They discuss buying Roni new clothes, since she is going to be here for the foreseeable future, and Roni asks several questions about what to expect when entering the roaring 20s.  Harry answers her, “lots of lions” and when she doesn’t understand right away, he giggles through his explanation of,  “‘Roaring.’ Get it? Sorry.”

It’s when they’re sitting at the table side by side, shoveling pancakes into their mouths, that Roni shifts topics.

“Your eye looks better!”

Harry chuckles.  “It does, doesn’t it? Just got a look at it in the mirror.  The swelling  has gone down significantly.”

“Thank goodness,” Roni nods.  “We have to be looking our best tonight, after all. We’re still on for dancing?”

Harry smiles around his glass of milk as he sips, and there’s a brief moment where he forgets to wipe his milk mustache off in which Roni completely melts.  “‘Course we are,” he says with a nod.

“What kinds of places are we going?  Like are we just gonna go bar hopping?  Or like… what’s the plan?  What should I prepare for?  Should I wear comfy shoes?”

Harry makes a face, not answering her right away. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He takes another sip of milk, and now Roni is wondering if she’s said something wrong, because his entire demeanor shifts.  “What?  Is that not how it works here?”

Harry won’t even look at her, but the smile on his face hardly falters-- if anything it just looks a bit more regretful.  “No,” he says.  “It’s not that.”

Roni frowns.  “Well, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to! We can just--”

“It isn’t that either.”  Harry finally looks at Roni with embarrassment.  He hesitates to speak, until she presses him with a look.  He sighs.  “Veronica, I have to tell you something.”

Roni hates those words.  Any time someone has said something to her along those lines, it is almost always followed by bad news.  She leans closer to him.  “What’s wrong?”

“I… don’t have enough money… to take you to several places. I can only afford one, and it’s only because I know the guy who owns it.”

Roni still doesn’t understand, so she shakes her head and places her hand on Harry’s arm reassuringly.  “Harry, that’s not a big deal, I don’t mind if--”

“No, listen.  Please.  I have to tell you this because it’s gone on for too long, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to hide it from you.”  

Roni swallows, preparing herself for the worst.  Harry’s got a wife and child living somewhere else that he has to support, and they don’t know about this apartment.  Harry is sick and dying and only has enough money to pay his medical bills for the next couple of months until he shrivels away.  Harry has--

“I don’t have a job.”

Oh.

Roni blinks back at him, trying to find the proper words to go about responding to him.  She isn’t mad by any means, but he’s looking at her like she should be.  His cheeks burn red, and his skin under Roni’s hand feels hot to the touch.  He licks his lips, raising his eyebrows expectantly at her, and she realizes she’s just been sitting here with her mouth open.  She shakes her head, and speaks with as much gentleness as she can conjure up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.  I really don’t.  I don’t think I anticipated you being here as long as you are-- which, I’m so happy that you are, by the way-- so I didn’t think it would come up.  And now I want to take you out and buy you clothes, and I still very much intend to do that, because I do have money left over for that.  But I just can’t do it to the extent that I would like to.  And it’s awful, because I really would love to show you around, take you to several dance places, etcetera etcetera, but…. I can’t.”

The amount of sadness in Harry’s eyes makes Roni’s heart feel heavy, and she gives his arm a squeeze.  “Harry,” she sighs.  

“Are you disappointed?”

“Of course I’m not disappointed.  If anything, I’m disappointed in myself.  I’ve been so selfish this entire time--”

“Don’t do that.”

“--But if I’d known, I could’ve helped!”

Harry chuckles, and it’s the first time in a few minutes that he seems like himself again. “How on earth could you have helped?”

“I don’t know,” Roni shrugs, “but we would’ve found a way.  You’re doing so much to help me, I can’t just sit here and let that happen without returning the favor!”

“There’s no favor to return,” Harry says with a smile.  “It’s my pleasure.”

Roni sits back in her chair, already brainstorming and completely ignoring his words.  “Lets see,” she says, drumming her fingers along the table top.   “I don’t need clothes--”

“Yes you do.”  Harry snorts.  “You’re practically swimming in mine.”

“Yeah but--”

Harry holds up his hand to stop her.  “I’ve got that part covered, Veronica.  I promise you.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Fine.  One outfit--”

“Two.”  Harry cuts her off again, his cheeky smile fully returning to his face.  “At the very least.  You need one for tonight and another for anything else.”

“But--”

“I’ve already got it all sorted.  You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”  

“So you’re just gonna blow the last of your money… on me?”

“Not the last of it!” Harry shrugs, then laughs when Roni scoffs.  “Love,  I didn’t tell you this to worry you.  I’ll find another job sooner or later.  I just told you so that you wouldn’t be let down when I turn out to be a rather disappointing date.”

“You’re not disappointing.”  Roni frowns.  “We’re gonna get you a job, alright?”

“I believe you!” Harry says, popping another piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Starting today.”

“Today?!”  Harry speaks through a mouthful and swallows a bit harder than he’d intended.  “No, love, today is about finding you clothes--”

“And finding you a job.”  Roni grins brilliantly at him.   “We’re doing both at the same time.”  When Harry narrows his eyes at her, she only giggles and echoes his own words back at him.  “You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but his dimpled smile has returned full force.  He shakes his head and takes another bite.  “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Roni pops the ‘p’ at the end of the world before taking a sip of her milk.  “So hurry up and finish breakfast.  We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

----

It’s three hours later when Roni and Harry find themselves downtown, after an hour of cleaning up their messes in the kitchen and Harry awkwardly explaining to Roni how the shower worked.  They’d wasted no time in buying Roni the appropriate outfits,  and she’d changed in the restroom at a high end cafe.  (The looks she’d received were actually quite hysterical-- dressed in Harry’s clothes and entering the women’s restroom only to emerge wearing a brown dress, stockings, and brand new shoes.)

Roni’s first time stepping out of Harry’s apartment and into the daylight had been surreal.  She’d felt dizzy several times, especially when comparing the shops and restaurants along the streets now to the ones of her own time.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know her way around; she knew this city like the back of her hand.  But seeing everything-- and everyone-- so different is a feeling unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life.

But now here she is, dressed the part and feeling a hundred times more confident and present than before.  She and Harry had visited numerous businesses for him to apply to, and each one had given them roughly the same answer.  Promises to call seemed to only crush Harry’s spirit, which Roni understood.  But she’d remained as positive and enthusiastic about the entire process as she could, and now here she is-- encouraging him to just pop into one more store with her.  

“What if they’re the ones that are gonna offer you a job, you know?”

“Or they’ll just promise to call me,” Harry says with a shrug.  “You know how those things work.  They promise to call and they never do.”

Roni is about to launch into an entire spiel about how Harry is only going to attract what he puts out there and he shouldn’t be going into this with a negative attitude, when something catches her eye.

“Oh my god.”  

She stops dead in her tracks, and it takes Harry a moment to notice she isn’t behind him.  He turns to see Roni staring in disbelief at one of the little shops along the strip.  He follows her gaze to understand what she’s so struck by, but it only confuses him more.  “What, the tobacco place?”

“No, the book store.”  Roni feels like crying and she doesn’t even know why.  It’s not a particularly emotional moment by any means, but it’s strange and surreal and the only thing her body can think to do with all of the unusual feelings she’s feeling is to expel them through tears.  

She doesn’t end up crying, not really, but she does have to blink the mist out of her eyes to make sure she isn’t seeing anything.

The sign above the book shop is the same one she’d gotten so used to seeing nearly every day of her life in the 90s, but now it’s got a fresh coat of paint and it’s bright and shiny rather than weathered with time.  It reads, loud and proud in white paint: The Little Read Book, and Roni laughs in disbelief.

If Roni remembers correctly, the shop was opened in 1920-- which technically is five years ago-- by Eileen’s grandmother, and Roni realizes that that means Eileen isn’t born yet, and won’t be for another ten years.

“Harry,” Roni says quietly to a patient Harry who’s been waiting for her to say something,  “I work there.”

“What?”  Harry scoffs, glancing from the shop to Roni’s awe-stricken face.  “What on earth do you-- oh.”  It finally dawns on Harry, only now he isn’t sure at all what the proper way to respond to this situation would be.  He clears his throat.  “You don’t say?  Well, that’s interesting.”

Without thinking, Roni grabs Harry’s hand and yanks him with her as she makes her way to the shop.  “We have to go in,” she says, completely unaware of the way Harry is blushing at her small hand in his.

A familiar bell rings the moment Roni opens the door, and out of habit she wants to call out a greeting to Eileen. The shop smells exactly the same, and it’s organized almost identically to the way it looks in the 90s. The difference is on the walls- there are significantly less photographs covering them, and the ones that are tacked to the green wallpaper are fresh and not yellowed with age.

A few customers walk among the shelves, talking quietly to themselves, and faint jazz music plays from the radio behind the front desk.  The radio is still there in Roni’s time, but it has long since stopped working, and seeing it in all its glory is something so surreal that Roni gets dizzy all over again.

“May I help you?”

Roni turns her attention to a girl much younger than her rounding the corner carrying an armful of books.  Roni’s knee-jerk reaction is to go help the girl but she refrains-- reminding herself that she does not, in fact, work here at the moment.

The girl plops the pile onto the desk and Roni gets a glimpse of her nametag.  It reads “Daisy” in a plain blue font, and Roni wracks her brain trying to remember if she’s ever heard this name before and if this person holds any significance in Eileen’s life.

It’s Harry who speaks first.  “Hi, I was wondering if you had any available positions open?”

The question takes both Daisy and Roni by surprise, and Roni can’t stop her jaw from falling practically on the floor.  Of course it makes sense for him to work here, and she wishes she’d come up with the idea herself. She’d been so shocked to see this place in the context it’s in now, that she’d forgotten all about the task at hand.  A pang of guilt strikes her belly for a brief moment.

Daisy blinks back surprise, a pleasant smile growing on her face.  “Really?”

“Yes ma’am.”  Harry beams,  “I’m looking to start as soon as possible.”

Daisy eyes Harry for a moment, stopping briefly on his still faint-purple eye, before leaning against the counter and grinning.  “What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he replies, holding out his hand.  “Styles.”

Daisy shakes his hand with a smile before turning expectantly to Roni, and now Roni suddenly feels put on the spot.

“Uh,” she stammers, reaching to shake Daisy’s hand.  “I’m Roni.”

Daisy makes a face, cocking her head to one side.  “As in Ronald?”

Harry snorts, and Roni sighs.  “No, Veronica.  Sorry, I should’ve been more clear.”

“No!” Daisy says, “It’s just a unique name.  I’ve never heard anything like that before.  I like it.  Are you interested in a position as well?”  Her bright beautiful smile returns back to her face, and it’s the first time that Roni’s really looked closely. She can clearly see the almost chilling resemblance to Eileen now, and it makes her feel woozy.

It takes everything in Roni not to explain the situation, but how would she even start?  

Actually, I do work here, but not right now-- seventy-four years into the future, and I can give you my official employee reference for you to hire Harry!

Roni sees Harry smirking at her as if he’s thinking the same thing she is, and she giggles nervously.  “No.  Thank you though.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m always hiring!”  Daisy makes her way behind the counter to organize the books as she speaks.  “My name is Daisy Hartford. I actually recently took over the business with my husband Lawrence.  My mother opened the shop five years ago, but she gave the business to us when we got married last summer.”

Roni tunes Daisy out as she comes to the realization that Daisy is Eileen’s mother.  It feels so strange to see this young girl, likely no older than nineteen, running a business that Roni knows by heart, and speaking of her mother and her husband so candidly.  She doesn’t know that she’s going to have four children, and that one of them is going to be Eileen.  She doesn’t know that Eileen is going to take over the shop one day.  Hell, she probably doesn’t even know that the shop is going to make it another seventy-four plus years.  She doesn’t know any of this-- but Roni does.

Daisy continues rambling, bringing Roni out of her thoughts.  “I love it, but I could use all the help I can get.  Especially once we start having little ones running around, do you know what I mean?  I’m sure the two of you understand.”

Harry’s smirk only deepens while Roni feels her face is on fire. Her voice is so quiet that even she has a hard time hearing herself. “Oh, we’re not--”

“Well” Daisy unintentionally cuts Roni off, smiling sweetly.  “I’m sure I don’t need to bore you with my story.”  She turns to Harry with a pointed look.  “Mr. Styles.  Have you any experience working with books?”

Roni can almost hear the panic bells going off in Harry’s head, but his exterior remains cool and collected.  “I do not,” he says,  “But I am a fast learner.”

“Excellent.”  Daisy flips nonchalantly through a book before setting it aside.  “And your current employer is whom?”

Harry swallows, his ego clearly slightly bruised.  He fidgets with his fingers when he talks, drawing Roni’s attention to the fact that even she’s fidgeting with her ring out of pure nervousness.  “I don’t have one, ma’am.  But my previous employer was Milton and Sons.  I made shoes.”

“Oh, how funny!  I’ve got a pair of Miltons on right now!”  Daisy kicks out her leg a bit to show off her shoes, and it makes both Roni and Harry giggle.

“Those are quite nice,” Harry says.  “I’ll bet I made them.”

“I’ll bet you did!”  Daisy beams, before realizing that this is still a job interview-- albeit a very lax one. She clears her throat and settles herself down.  “Alright, alright.  Next question.  Why The Little Read Book?”

It’s another one of those moments where Roni wants to jump in, and Harry can see her internal struggle.  “Well,” he says slowly,  “A dear friend of mine recommended this place.”

“Did he?  What’s his name?”

Harry’s lips twitch.  “Ronald.”

Roni nearly chokes, but Harry remains completely serious as Daisy thinks long and hard.  “Ronald…. Mr. Whitley?  He comes in here quite often.”

“Maybe,” Harry says with a shrug. “I’ve never caught his last name before.  But in any case, Ronald has been coming here for years now.  He speaks very highly of this place.  Says it feels like home to him.  And I can see why.  You’ve got a remarkable business here, Mrs. Hartford.”

Daisy beams.  “Thank you! That’s lovely to hear.”  

After a few more questions that almost all lead into a conversation of some sort, Roni, Daisy, and Harry feel like three chums just hanging out and having a chat.  Which was something Eileen had constantly told Roni about Daisy.

“My mother could befriend a rock if you gave her enough time,” Eileen would say.  “She would hold conversation with just about anyone.  Everybody loved her, and with good reason.”

Now that she’s meeting her, Roni would have to agree.

“Well, Mr. Styles,” Daisy says through a sigh.  “I suppose I’ve just got one question left for you, and it’s the most important one.”

Harry nods.  “Shoot.”

“When can you start?”

Roni can tell that Harry wants to leap up in the air and celebrate.  She knows how much this means to him and, frankly, she’s feeling the exact same way.  She beams at Harry, expectantly awaiting his answer.  While he remains as calm as possible, there is no denying the dimple on his cheek showing just how happy he is.

“Tomorrow?” Harry raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“We’re closed tomorrow.”  Roni and Daisy say this at the same time, and when Daisy shoots Roni a look of confusion, Roni fumbles over an explanation.  Truth be told, it was merely force of habit.  But that isn’t something she has time to explain to Daisy, so she shrugs.

“Sorry, I’ve just-- tried to come in here a few times on Saturdays and Sundays and always realized you were closed.  Made that mistake too many times.  Ha. Sorry.”

This is a tradition no longer kept in 1999, but Roni remembers the days when both Saturdays and Sundays were off days.  In 1998 Eileen had decided to open up Saturdays for business, keeping Sundays blocked off because “I’m a God-fearing woman, Veronica.”   But still, it is Roni’s knee-jerk reaction to respond the way that she just has, and she’s thankful that Daisy bought her explanation.

“Right,” Daisy giggles.  “Well, in any case, Mr. Styles, are you free to start Monday around eleven?”

Harry nods.  “Monday around eleven sounds great.”

“Wonderful!  I can’t wait to work with you.”  She turns to Roni.  “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing much more of you in here, Mrs. Styles.”

Roni opens her mouth to say something but is cut off immediately by Harry taking her hand and tugging her towards the door.  “Right, lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hartford.  I’ll see you Monday at eleven, and not a minute later!”

The door closes behind them and they’re back outside, squinting at one another in the sunlight.  Harry’s smiling like an excited little boy, and after a moment of watching him, Roni presses him with a nudge.  “Well?”

“Veronica,” Harry says softly, “We fucking did it.”

It’s the first time Roni’s heard Harry (knowingly) curse in front of her, and it makes her giggle at his unfiltered excitement.  She takes both of Harry’s hands in hers and squeezes, beaming up at him before just giving in and wrapping her arms around his torso.  She gives him a tight squeeze and leans affectionately into him.

“Hell yeah,” she says,  “We fucking did.”

----

“Harryyy,” Roni whines from the bathroom.

“Yes, love?”

Roni sighs loudly, and the noise makes Harry chuckle to himself from his spot on the couch.  “You can’t laugh, okay?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because.”  Roni opens the door a crack, barely peeking her head out to look at Harry.  “I need help.”

It’s a few hours later and Harry and Roni have found themselves back at Harry’s place to freshen up for the evening.  Roni had insisted she’d be fine changing in another public restroom, but Harry had refused-- saying that he needed to get changed into something “spiffier.”

The outfit Harry had bought for Roni seemed nice enough, but now that she’s actually trying to do up the buttons in the back while keeping the sash tied correctly, she’s realizing just how complicated the entire outfit is. It doesn’t help that the only bra she has is the one she’d been wearing the night she arrived, which is very modern in comparison to the rest of the dress.   Try as she might, there is no way she could manage getting the buttons all done up herself.  So she’d swallowed her pride, and now here she is-- pitifully asking Harry for help.

Harry looks lovely, of course, and it’s the nicest Roni has seen him dress the entire time she’s been here.  He’s in a gray suit buttoned up the front, and a nice pair of leather shoes that, admittedly could use a bit of a shine but are altogether so handsome and so Harry.  He completes the entire ensemble with a little gray cap on his head-- because of course he does-- and Roni suddenly feels self conscious when he looks at her.

He smiles knowingly, rising to his feet and heading towards the bathroom door.  “Too advanced for you then?”

Roni pouts, stepping out of the bathroom in the half buttoned, half tied mess of a dress.  “I just can’t get the buttons done,” she huffs.  “And the belt won’t stay tied!”

Harry snorts, picking up the ribbon that droops around Roni’s waist.  “It doesn’t go there.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Well that would’ve been nice to know ten minutes ago.”

“Alright, alright,”  Harry says through another laugh.  “Turn around.”

Roni complies without thinking, and Harry’s breath catches in his throat the moment she does.  

It’s the first time he’s seen a woman’s bare back in, god, he doesn’t even know how long.  She’s gotten the buttons done up herself all the way to the spot just before her back dips into her bottom, and Harry subconsciously licks his lips at the involuntary thought of what lies beneath the southernmost button.  The lace of her brassiere clings delicately to her back, and although Harry has seen a decent amount of brassieres in his lifetime, he’s never quite seen one this intricate.  He would give anything to unlatch it and place his lips to the spot on her skin where it rested, but he knows he can’t.  He knows he’s got a job to do here, and she’s waiting.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s been staring for so long until Roni speaks. “What, did I mess it up?”

“Yes” Harry says, praying that Roni doesn’t notice the audible crack in his voice.  “But it’s okay.  Nothing I can’t fix.”

With shaky hands Harry works to fasten the buttons up her back.  Roni sighs, seemingly unaware of the way Harry trembles behind her.  For some reason the fact that this is completely normal to Roni, in a time where it’s scandalous for any unwed woman to present herself to a man this way, is making this all the more sexy to him.  He licks his lips, focusing on getting this done as quickly as possible so as not to make it weird, while also savoring the moment as much as he can.  

He can feel the heat from her skin, and he can smell his shampoo in her hair, and he closes his eyes to allow the scent to fill his nose.  Should he say something?  Is he being weird by not saying anything?  Can she feel how absolutely tense he is as he tries to focus on not touching her for too long?  He’s completely short-circuited, and he gulps trying to come up with something to talk about.

When Harry’s finger accidentally grazes a spot on Roni’s back, she jolts, starling Harry.

“Sorry, sorry!” Harry blurts.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, it’s just-- your hands are cold.”

“Oh.” Idiot.  “Sorry.”

“No,” Roni says again.  “It felt… good.”

“Oh.”  

Can he say anything other than oh?

Harry watches as goosebumps prickle Roni’s skin, and he moves slower now, taking special care to brush his fingers against her back occasionally.  If she said it felt good, it’s all he can do to keep her feeling that way.   She swallows and audibly exhales,  and the goosebumps never fade or shrink.  

Harry doesn’t know why it happens this way with her.  Everything is always so friendly and normal, and then the most casual and mundane thing sets him off.  He knows she feels it too, because even over her shoulder he can see her eyes nervously darting around with every controlled breath she takes.   She, too, looks like she wants to say something and can’t find the words, but Harry doesn’t mind.  The higher he gets with her buttons, the slower he goes.

With a shaky hand, Harry reaches up to gather Roni’s hair in his hand and gently brushes it over her shoulder and out of his way.  She shivers when he does this, and it makes him smile to himself.  If ever he should be lucky enough to be this close to Roni again, he needs to remember that she likes to have her hair played with.

When he finally reaches the top button, he takes his time fastening it.  He doesn’t realize that he and Roni are both holding their breaths until both of them let it out in a sigh.  He closes his eyes briefly, willing time to stop just for moment so that he can savor this longer, but he has no time to linger on the thought before Roni is spinning around to face him.

“Does it look okay?  Like seriously, do I like… fit with the times?”

She looks genuinely worried, and her eyes scan his for any sign of humor in his response.  

How can Harry tell her that she looks like a dream?  She looks like everything he’s ever wanted and so, so much more.  Of course he’d gone a tad over his planned budget in buying her this outfit, but seeing her here, wearing it and looking like that makes it all worth it.  Were dresses like this supposed to fit this way?  He’s never seen a dress look so good on anybody before, and he doesn’t know how on earth to tell her that without frightening her off.

So he keeps his composure as much as he can, smiling mischievously down at her.  “Not yet.”

He reaches for the tie that Roni had mislabeled a belt and, feeling bolder now, unties it from around her hips.  She squirms a bit in his grasp but she isn’t smiling, not yet, and Harry realizes that fitting in is something incredibly important to her.

“Right, hold still.”  Harry loops the tie around the back of Roni’s neck, brushing her hair up over it and smiling when he notices the goosebumps on her skin once again.  He watches her face closely as he ties the tie in a loose knot in the middle of her chest.  She won’t look at him anymore, but there’s a hint of a smile gracing her pretty lips, so he knows he’s got her where he wants her.   He secures the knot and takes the two loose ends of the tie in his hands, yanking her gently closer to him.

Roni stumbles and gasps softy, before glaring up at him.  “Hey, careful! I could’ve--”

She trails off when she sees the way he’s smiling at her, and she softens immediately.  Her eyes hold an almost indiscernible worry, and if Harry had blinked he would’ve missed the way they darted down to his lips for just a split second.

Harry smirks.  “Now you look perfect.”

Roni giggles nervously, a red tint glowing from her cheeks as she averts her gaze.  She seems to come back to her senses slowly, and Harry is pleased with the effect he has on her.

“Thanks,” she says softly, stepping back and out of the circle of his arms,  “For… helping me.  I don’t mean to be so helpless it’s just…. You know.”

Harry nods.  “I do know,” he says with a reassuring smile.”  He places a hand on his belly.  “I also know that my stomach has been growling for the last hour, and I’m itching to show you off on that dance floor.”  He offers her his arm, grinning smugly down at her.  “So.  Shall we?”

---

The New York air is much colder now, and Roni leans closer to Harry for warmth as they walk.  She’s significantly less afraid now that she looks the part, even going so far as to give passersby a few polite head nods and a quick “good evening!”

Harry grins down at her, squeezing her arm with his own.  “You’re a proper lady now, aren’t you?”

Roni takes on her best posh accent, making Harry snort when she talks.  “Well I look the part, darling, but now I’ve got to act it, haven’t I?”

Through residual giggles, Harry shakes his head.  “You had me up until the accent.”

“What a shame,” Roni says, making her accent even thicker and giggling to herself.  “I’ll have to work on that.”

A clocktower in the distance chimes six o’clock as Harry and Roni finally approach their destination.   It’s busier than Roni had anticipated, but then again it is Friday night. This seems like the place to be, and if this is the only place Harry can take her tonight, he definitely picked a good one.

Harry talks briefly with the host at the front desk, who he’d mentioned to Roni that he was friends with, but Roni doesn’t even pay attention to anything being said.  She instead takes this time to really study the place.  Several round tables surround the large dance floor.  If Roni remembers correctly, this building is a roller rink in her time, and it’s so strange to see it as something so drastically different now.  

It’s also strange to see how many people are smoking indoors here, and Roni coughs when a woman walks by and wafts cigarette smoke into her face.

They’re seated shortly at a smaller table in the corner, and when the host returns back to his post, Harry beams at Roni.  “So? What do you think?”

“It’s cute!” Roni says. “It’s weird because I’ve been here but you know, like… in the 90s.”

“Yeah?  Is it pretty much the same?”

“Not at all,” Roni laughs.  “I mean the big dance area kind of looks the same I guess.  But it’s a huge roller rink.”

“A what?” Harry scrunches up his face, but doesn’t even give Roni a chance to answer him. “Oh, like for roller skates?”

“Yeah!”

Harry looks out at the dance floor thoughtfully. “Gee. So that area is just filled with people roller skating, huh?  That’s odd to think about.”

The waiter approaches, quickly shifting both Harry and Roni’s attention.  He informs them that his name is Stanley, goes over a few of the food specials for the evening, and then asks them what they’d like to drink.  Harry orders a lemonade, and then both he and Stanley turn to Roni expectantly.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll take a rum and coke, please.”

If a record-scratch silence was such a thing in these times, it would have happened at that exact moment.  Stanley, the people at the next table over, and even Harry all stare at her as if her order is the most scandalous thing they’ve ever heard.  Roni stares back blankly, trying to gather what on earth the problem could be, before finally looking to Harry for help.

Harry catches on quickly, laughing dryly and leaning across the table to place a hand on Roni’s.  “She’s joking, of course,” he says.  “She’ll just have a coca-cola.  Please.  Thank you so much.”

Stanley lingers a moment, as if processing what just happened, before turning slowly on his heels and making his way to the kitchen.

When Harry is sure the waiter is out of earshot, he leans across the table with a serious look.  “Don’t do that,” he hisses quietly.

“Do what?!” Roni asks incredulously.  “Order a drink?  What, are women not allowed to drink here?”

Harry chuckles.  “Actually no one is.”

“What the fuck?” Roni says, biting her tongue the moment it escapes her lips because she knows she shouldn’t be cursing like that in public.  Not here at least. She glances around to make sure no one heard her, then lowers her voice.  “Why not?”

Harry grins smugly.  “You mean to tell me the prohibition isn’t something significant in the future?  Like it just… ends?”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Oh god,” she says.  “The prohibition.  Forgot about that.”

“Ah.”  Harry nods.  “So you’ve heard of it.”

Roni pouts.  “Yeah, and it sucks.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry says through a laugh.

“I guess just a coke is fine though,”  Roni admits.  “Probably don’t need anything making me more disoriented me more than I already am.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Roni sighs, glancing around the restaurant again in another attempt to take it all in.  When she catches the eye of an older lady a few tables over, she notices the woman is frowning at her, and she shifts in her seat. “Are people staring?  They’re definitely staring.  Did you button me up wrong?”

“I didn’t,” Harry says. “Maybe they’re staring because of how beautiful you look.”

Roni’s cheeks grow hot and she rolls her eyes, but she can’t suppress the smile on her face. “Harry--”

“I’m serious!” he says.  “That dress is divine.  I must say, whoever picked it for you has excellent taste.”

“Hey, I picked it out, too.” Roni sticks her tongue out at Harry.

“Maybe so,” Harry says with a shrug,  “But of the two of us, I’m the one with the fashion sense here.”

Roni opens her mouth to protest, but Harry only rises to his feet and holds his hand out for her. “Anyway,” he says, “care to dance?”

At first Roni feels awkward on the crowded dance floor.  Everyone around her seems so experienced, and there she is stumbling around like she’s never even heard music before in her life.  She accidentally bumps into several people, and Harry always calmly apologizes for her before jumping right into the impromptu dance lesson he’s giving her.  Of course she feels bad, but he’s so encouraging (and went through all the trouble to get them here), so she puts on a brave face and soldiers through it.

By about four songs in, however, Roni’s insecurities wash further and further away with every smile or word of praise Harry gives her, and suddenly it feels like they’re the only two in the entire building.

The familiar opening chords of The Charleston begin booming from the orchestra, and Harry and Roni immediately exchange open-mouthed grins.  “You know this one!” Harry yells over the music, already beginning to tap his feet.

“No I don’t!” Roni giggles, already being swept off her feet by Harry.

Once again they’re laughing like children, stumbling over one another while Harry shouts incoherent commands at her.  

“Remember? Left, kick, left--- Veronica, focus!”

“I can’t! Not with everyone around!”

Roni finally allows her giggles to get the best of her, letting go of Harry and hunching over to clutch her belly.  Harry watches her, an endeared smile on his lips, before reaching to take her hand again. “Veronica--”

“Wait!” Roni stands up straight. “Wait, it’s my turn. Let me show you how it’s done. Ever heard of this one?”

She starts half-jumping, half- running in place and Harry lets out a loud cackle. “What on earth are you doing?”

“It’s called the running man!” Roni calls back.  “All the rage where I come from!”

Harry’s face grows redder by the second from laughing so hard, and he lets out a hacking cough. “Oh my god, you look ridiculous!”

“Yeah? Like that one? How about this one?”  Roni places her hands on either side of her face, framing her head and moving her hands from her cheeks to her chin and top of her head. . “This one is called Vogue-ing.”

Harry wipes at his eyes, clutching his stomach. “Veronica,” he says through a wet laugh, “Please, no more.”

“And here’s a classic!”  Roni goes completely stiff, bending her arms at the elbows and moving robotically. “They call this one the robot!”

“God,” Harry shakes his head, face now beet read from laughing. “You’re so bloody weird.”

“You aren’t gonna try it with me?” Roni asks.  “I try your weird dances with you!”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he knows she’s got a point. “It’s not the same.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Roni calls back. “C’mon, just try the robot one time.”

Harry glances nervously around before deciding to just completely throw caution to the wind and join her.  He goes stiff as well, mimicking her movements in the most forced and uncomfortable looking way.

Now it’s her turn to laugh, and she lets out the most adorable cackle Harry thinks he’s ever heard. “Ha! You’ve got it!”

“Do I look absolutely mental?” Harry asks through a grin.

“Absolutely, babe,” Roni says with a nod.

“Good!” Harry starts moving faster, knowing damn well he isn’t doing this dance correctly at all, until Roni can’t even dance anymore. She’s nearly on the ground with how hard she’s laughing, and both she and Harry completely ignore the dirty looks from everyone around them who’s actually taking their dancing seriously.

Harry is completely out of breath by the end of the song, and he genuinely feels he’s going to be sore tomorrow.  

But if it meant seeing Roni this happy and full of laughter, he’d take her out dancing every single night.

---

“So what was it like?”

Roni turns to Harry.  “What?”

Roni and Harry are walking home side by side, and Roni is carrying her shoes-- even though Harry had informed her several times how filthy the ground was. When they’d finally decided to stop dancing and sit down for dinner, they’d launched immediately into conversation, covering just about any topic under the sun. Harry marvels at how easy it is to talk to Roni, and he reckons he could sit and listen to her talk about absolutely nothing for days on end.

“The moment you traveled back.  I know you said it was a lucid dream of sorts, but what was it really like?  Was it like you were flying?”

“No, not really,” Roni says, and she takes a moment to think of how to explain this to him.  “It was just like walking.  But I couldn’t walk fast enough.  I wasn’t being threatened or anything.  I just knew I had somewhere to go and I didn’t think I’d get there in time.”

“Where were you trying to go?  You’d mentioned something about the 1980s… is that correct?  Something about your mum?”

Roni smiles sadly at him.  “You remember me saying that?”

“‘Course I do.”  Harry notices the sadness of Roni’s features, and he lowers his voice.  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” Roni says wistfully.  “I wanted to go to 1985. That was the year I lost my mom.  In a car accident.”

“Oh, Veronica,” Harry coos. “I’m so sorry.”

“Cars were… well, are a lot different where I come from.  People drive like assholes.  Pardon the language.”  Harry smirks to himself.  Since when does Roni feel the need to apologize for her language?  He doesn’t have time to tease her, however, and he figures now is not the time.  So he lets her continue.

“So mom was driving to work one morning.  And this guy fell asleep at the wheel.  A trucker.  He’d been driving all night.”  Roni seems lost in her own thoughts, and Harry hangs on her every word.  “And it sucks because… it was just like any other day, you know?  We just said a normal goodbye.  She was planning on ordering pizza that night when she got home.   I asked her to take me to the pool, and she couldn’t.  She was working overtime so that she could pay for this stupid class trip for me.”  Roni shakes her head bitterly, and Harry wants to say something, but he decides to let her sort through her own thoughts.

“I just thought that… maybe if I could go back to that day I could stop her, do you know what I mean?  I thought I could maybe warn her not to leave.  She would’ve listened to me.”  Roni chuckles softly to herself.  “I was always good at persuading her.”

They round the corner, beginning their ascent up the steps to Harry’s apartment.  He finally speaks as he fumbles with his keys.  “You know you can’t give up, right?  You’ve proven that time travel is real, now it’s just a matter of perfecting the specifics.”

Roni shrugs as Harry pushes his creaky front door open for her to walk through.  “I suppose,” she says, “I just don’t know if I want to risk going to another unfamiliar time period.  I’m not sure anyone else would be as kind as you.”

Her words tug at Harry’s heart strings as he locks the door behind him.  “Can I say something?”

Roni kicks off her shoes.  “Of course.”

“I’m really glad you showed up here.”  When Roni shoots Harry a look that says “don’t be cheesy,”  he giggles.  “I mean it! You’re somebody that I feel very, very lucky to have met.  You’re an incredible person.”

“Oh stop it.”  Roni and Harry make their way through the living room, while Harry begins unbuttoning his jacket and Roni fumbles to untie the neck-tie that has been itching her skin all night.

“I’m serious,” Harry says.  “You’re intelligent.  And witty.”

Roni smirks at him.  “Alright fine, keep going.”

“And funny,”  Harry adds with a pointed look.  “Gosh, Veronica, no one makes me laugh as hard as you do, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual, dude.”  Roni frowns down at the knot that she still hasn’t been able to get untied, and Harry keeps talking.

“You keep me on my toes, but in the best way.”  Harry wiggles out of his jacket, placing it neatly over the back of a chair. “I never know what to expect from you.”

“Good,” Roni says, distracted and still scowling at the stubborn knot.  “I want to keep it that way.”

“You’re unlike any woman-- no, any person in general, I have ever met in my life.  And I’ve met a lot of people, you know.  You’re someone special.  I feel like you were meant to come into my life, even if you came from the future.  And--”  Harry trails off when he notices her struggling. “Do you need help with that?”

Roni frowns up at him, finally giving up.  “How tight did you tie this thing?!”

Harry laughs, making his way over to her.  “Alright, c’mere.  Let me see.”

It feels good to be this close to Roni again, and although they’d spent the last roughly three and a half hours dancing closely, this feels so much better.  Harry feels the same nervous energy he’d felt while tying this thing, but somehow he’s more confident about it now, and he doesn’t shy away from standing so close to her.

“You can keep going on about how great I am if you want,” Roni teases.

“Oh can I?” Harry asks.  “Thank you for your blessing, madam.”

“Anytime!”

Harry smiles, working at the knot gently and really searching to find the right words in his mind.  “Suppose everything I’ve been saying is rather sappy, innit?”

“I don’t mind.”

Harry’s heart pounds at her words, although he isn’t exactly nervous.  “Well, may I say something else sappy?”

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

“Fair.”  Harry smiles.  Admittedly, he’s got the knot figured out and could easily side the tie off with no problem. But he likes having something for his fingers to fidget with, and he definitely  likes having his fingers so near her body.  “On top of everything else I’ve said, you are… undoubtedly… the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

Roni’s mouth falls open so subtly that Harry would have missed it if it wasn’t for the almost inaudible gasp that accompanied the movement.  He doesn’t look at her eyes, he instead focuses on the knot-- which he is now halfway done with.

“Harry.”

“Pardon me if I’m being too forward, Veronica.  I just think it’s high time that I let you know that.  You deserve to be told that every day.”

Harry shakes the knot a bit, effectively loosening it so that it practically slides off.  But he doesn’t let go of the fabric, holding it loosely on either side of her neck.  He swallows and she lets out a shaky breath, eyes darting frantically along his face as if she can’t decide on a place for them to land.  The mood in the room has shifted entirely just from his one confession, because they both know that his words hold so much more depth to them.  He isn’t just complimenting her to fill the silence.  He means it, and he means so much more by it.

“Can I say something as well?”  Roni says quietly, and Harry only nods.  “You’re… the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, Harry.  And I wish… I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“I consider myself incredibly lucky to have met you,” Harry says.  “And I... I don’t know how long you’re going to be here with me for.  But I already wish I had longer with you.  And I wish you were mine.”

Roni licks her lips as their eyes finally meet.  They both wear looks of confusion, a bit of fear, and so much yearning that it would make Roni sick on any other day.  But now she’s here, and she’s feeling something she’s honestly never felt in her life.  She smiles, reaching up slowly to cup his cheek and run her thumb over the spot where his dimple lives.

“I wish that, too,” she says breathlessly.

Finally. Finally it’s the moment they’ve both been waiting for for so long.  Harry tugs lightly on the tie, pulling Roni in so close that their faces are practically touching.  It would be so easy for them to just do it, just tilt their heads the slightest bit and kiss already.  Roni feels jittery and shaky, and Harry reaches up to take the wrist of the hand that cups his face.

They’re so close that Roni can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she swallows down all of the words that she’s dying to say.  She licks her lips, only briefly giving in to the “what if’s” swimming around in her brain, and she removes her eyes from his swollen pink lips.  She scans the dip of his cupid’s bow, the little mole on the corner of his chin, the point of his nose, and finally his green eyes that match the intensity on his face.  Memories of the image she’d woken up to this morning float back into her mind,-- images of him, naked and swollen and whining-- and this time she lets them linger for a moment.  Enjoying the way the sight had made her feel.  Enjoying the way that that same hand feels now against her wrist.

“Harry,” Roni whispers.

Harry bumps his nose to hers, lips so close that she can practically taste them.  “Yes, love?”

Roni wants to stop herself from saying what she’s about to say.  More than anything she wants to give in to this boy who’s standing so close to her, she wants to fasten their lips together and taste him.  She wants to kiss his neck, and she wants him to kiss hers.  She wants to touch him, lick him, bury him inside of her until they pass out from exhaustion.  And she wants to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

But instead, she says something she almost instantly regrets.

“I can’t.”

#told ya she was a long one! #anyway HOPE YOU ENJOYED #Harry Styles #Harry #One Direction #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #One Direction fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #One Direction AU #AU #Harry Styles fluff #harry fluff #One Direction fluff #fluff #Harry Styes smut #Harry smut #One Direction smut #smut

[mattygraygubler]

our campus: chapter 4 (tom holland fanfic)

summary: frat!tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: none ?????

word count: 2.1k

a/n: so many texts and so much dialogue fuckin kill me also texts are bold

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“I don’t know what you did to get her to give you a second chance, but I need to warn you.” Ally said. Tom turned to look at her, they had only ever spoken when necessary for theater stuff. 

“Warn me?” He asked. 

“Y/N can make your life either very, very good or very, very bad. She has most of the professors in this school wrapped around her pinky. And she doesn’t make it obvious, but she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. She can really help you if you let her.”

“Well, thanks.” He said awkwardly and turned back to his stuff. 

“One more thing.” Ally said. Tom turned again and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you dare catch feelings.” “Seriously? No need to worry about that.” Ally scoffed. 

“I’m serious, Tom. Don’t. She doesn’t need that right now.” 

“Yeah, fine, I get it.” He said. 

“Alright guys let’s get started.” Gigi said, signaling rehearsal was about to start. 

* * * 

It was finally Friday, and your phone was blowing up as you walked to the library. Class had gotten out late, so you were walking as fast as possible so you wouldn’t be late to your meeting with Tom. 

Al

if Y/N is ok with it its fine with me

Iz

i still dont know how i feel about this

Em 

pretty pretty please guys i really like this guy and he really wants me to go

You

what are we talking about i was in class

Al

harrison invited em and all of us to the delt party tonight

Iz

and i said we shouldnt go bc of what happened

plus isnt tom a delt? wouldnt that be a bit awk?

You

honestly i couldnt care less. after the week ive had im gonna too blacked to even realize where we are

Em

lets take it to a vote

aye

Al

aye 

Iz

nay

You

im abstaining

Em

the ayes have it! delt BABEEEYYYY

ill have harrison put us all on the list

You 

glad we got that sorted ill see u guys at mine at 8

You walked into the library, checking your watch and seeing it was 4:02. You bit your lip. Hopefully he didn’t give you any crap for being late. 

You walked quickly into hlab, and you knew you looked like a crazy person. Your bag was falling off your shoulder, you had a coffee in your hand and your water bottle tucked under your arm, and your phone in your other hand. 

You scanned the room and saw Tom sitting across from Max, both of them had books out. 

“Hi,” you said breathlessly. Max slid over a seat so you could sit across from Tom. “So sorry I’m late, crazy day.” 

“No worries dar-” You heard him start to say darling, but stopped himself. “No worries. It’s only 2 minutes after.” 

“How long have you been waiting?” You asked.

“Max and I have been hanging out for a while, not a big deal.” 

“Speaking of, I’m on alc duty for tonight so I better go.” Max said, did his stupid handshake with Tom, and walked out. 

Hlab was almost empty except for some freshman. Most people don’t like studying on a Friday, who could blame them?

“So I got a copy of your lectures from this week. What do you want to start with?”

“I don’t care.” 

“Ok, what is currently confusing you the most?” He thought for a second before saying “Astronomy.” You nodded. 

“Great, grab your notes and your textbook.” He pulled out a notebook and his laptop, opening the online textbook. You pulled out your laptop and a pen and highlighter. 

“May I?” You asked and pulled his notebook to your side. You went through his notes, circling certain things with the pen and highlighting others. 

“These are really good, Tom. I like how you put question marks next to things that confused you.” He laughed. 

“Do I get a gold star?” He joked. You rolled your eyes. 

“So phases of the moon.” You started. 

“Wait a second,” he said after you had been talking for a while. “You’re telling me that the moon doesn’t actually, like, change?” 

“It’s all shadows.” You replied. He nodded and seemed to finally be getting it. 

“The phases will most definitely be on your next lab, which isn’t open note, so make sure you memorize them.” You said. “Let’s move onto stats.” He groaned. “What?” You asked. 

“Statistics is so stupid. Letters and numbers shouldn’t go together.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Stats is easy, I promise you. This is the first unit, all we’re doing is descriptive statistics and graphing. Let’s start with some vocab.” You said, highlighting certain words in his notes. 

Once you could see his brain was about to explode, you moved onto writing. 

“There’s not much to talk about, just email me your most recent paper so I can go through it and look for themes we need to discuss.” 

‘“Themes?” He asked. 

“You know, on going issues that need to be addressed.” He nodded and emailed you his paper, which you would read tomorrow. You heard your phone buzz and took a quick glance. 

Em

al dont be upset

Al

then dont give me a reason to get upset

what is it

Em

……….. It’s themed

Al

are you kidding? were not freshmen, i dont wanna go to a stupid themed frat party

Em

its blackout !!!! itll be fun i promise

You turned your phone back down and didn’t realize you had an upset look on your face. 

“Everything ok?” He asked. 

“Just arguing in the group chat.” 

“Do you need to go?” He asked. 

“No, no, just arguing about tonight.” 

“What’s tonight?” 

“Tonight is not related to political conflict, which is what we should be talking about.” He laughed. 

“Do you ever have fun?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m serious, do you ever have fun, or do you just go to sleep surrounded by planners and textbooks.” 

“That’s not funny. There’s a lot more about me that you don’t know.” 

“Clearly.” 

“So we’re starting off with socioeconomic issues over time and the class strugle. Did you read the Marx chapters?” 

“Yup. Didn’t understand a word of it.” 

“Ok, let’s get into it.” You said and began rambling about the bourgeoisie and the communist manifesto. Politics was your favorite subject, you could talk about it for hours. 

You were having a really good discussion with Tom. It was global political conflict, and he was able to connect the themes to both America and England, which made you really pleased. 

You were pulled out of your discussion when your phone vibrated. 

Iz

pickin up panera anyone want anything 

“Jeez it’s already past 6:30, I gotta go.” You said. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He said. 

“No it’s not your fault, I get so into politics I lose track of time.” “I can tell.” He said as you both packed up your stuff. 

“Wanna grab some food?” He asked. 

“Sorry, can’t,” you said. 

“Why, got a hot date?” He joked. 

“Maybe,” you said. 

“At least let me walk you to wherever you’re going.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Well where are you going?” 

“Congression Hall?” You replied. 

“Wait, you live there?” 

“Uhm, yes? Me along with practically every other junior.” 

“What floor?” 

“8.” You said. 

“Should’ve guessed.” He replied as you started walking across the quad. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Honors 8. I forgot you were in hc.” He was referring to the eighth and top floor of Congression Hall, which was reserved for the honors college juniors. 

“Yeah.” You said simply. 

“I’m on six, by the way.” He said. “That’s why I was curious. I’ve never seen you around there.” 

“I’m not usually, I only really use it for sleep.” 

“Of course,” he replied. 

“I assumed you lived in a frat house.” You commented. 

“Nah, next year.” He said with a wink. “Speaking of frat houses, there’s kind of this party going on at Delt tonight-” 

“I’m aware.” You said, cutting him off. 

“Ah, well, if you want I can get you on the list.” You smiled to yourself. 

“No need, I’m already on the list.” You said. 

“Oh?” He said, clearly embarrassed. “Because of delta nu?��� 

“Nope.” You said, not offering any other information. 

“Well maybe I’ll see you there then.” 

“Even if you do see me there, I will be pretending I don’t know you.” 

“Why?” He asked, clearly offended. “I run that house.” He joked, trying to play off the embarrassment. 

“No offense, but your reputation would not be good for mine.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well I have a certain reputation in the greek community, and if people see me with you they’ll get the wrong idea.” 

“The wrong idea?” He asked as you walked in the lobby of your building. 

“Well, see, the thing is,” you said, stepping into the elevator. He pressed the button for six and eight. “I have certain standards. If people see me with you, they’ll think I’ve…” 

“Wow, you are really uptight, aren’t you?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Certain standards? Jesus christ, you’re not the queen, Y/N. And I don’t have a bad reputation. But god forbid I don’t live up to your ‘standards.’” He said, storming off the elevator without another word, clearly upset. You sighed. Good job, Y/N. 

Tom got to his room and threw his stuff on the floor, collapsing on his bed. His head hurt from all the tutoring, and trying to focus on not staring at your lips. 

delt juniors

Tom

aight important question guys

Cal

whats up tommy

Tom

do you guys know a girl called Y/N Y/L/N? shes a delta nu

Joey

dan knows her ;)

Cal

fuck, Y/N? what are you doing with her? 

Tom

shes tutoring me stop buggin 

Max

i know her which u know shes in hc with me 

Liam

oh danny DEFINITLY knows her 

Will

who doesnt know Y/N? shes a hot commodity

Tom

what do you mean? 

Cal

shes like the perfect girl next door, totally hot and so smart which just makes her hotter

Will

doesnt help that shes a huge fuckin flirt AND can hold her alc

Joey

dan is being suspiciously quiet……..

Dan

shut up joe

Liam

care to share with tommy your story with Y/N, daniel? 

Dan

i hate u all 

fine

i was like in love with her freshman year

and i thought she was into me too

and we made out a couple of times but nothing else

the second she found out i was in delt she stopped talking to me

like complete radio silence 

Tom

wtf? Why? 

Cal

she doesnt fuck with delts

thats like common greek knowledge

Will

maybe its because shes gonna be dchi sweetheart? 

Joey

nah theres gotta be something else

Harrison

well i just put her on the list for tonite

Tom

wait YOU put her on the list?! 

Harrison

yeah i invited her friend Emily Gold and she doesnt go anywhere without Y/N and these two other girls

Cal

Ally Park and Isabelle Miller

Harrison

yeah howd u know? 

Cal

theyre like those cool girls from high school everyones obsessed with that are just out of everyones league

Tom

wow american high schools are so weird

Dan

tom if u wanna get with her i wont be pissed

Tom

nah like you said she hates delts, and after three tutoring sessions with me i guarentee i am her least favorite delt ever

Liam

theres no fuckin way she shows up tonight

she wouldnt be caught dead at a delt party

Noah

wait you said Y/N Y/L/N may come tonight????

DIBS

DIBS DIBS DIBS

I CALL DIBS

Cal

noah u seriously show up just to call dibs?

Noah

yeah bro have u seen her? if she comes tonight and any of you try to cockblock me i stg ill deck you

Dan

pretty sure tommy has rightful dibs to this one

Tom

nah fam she hates me so fuckin much

let noah try his luck

i doubt she’ll even show

Max

she’ll show. 

Tom

what makes u say that? 

Liam

max does know her best

Max

she and ally and emily and isabelle are ride or die. they circulate who picks what party they go to and if its emilys turn and harrison somehow conviced her to go, Y/N wont miss it

Dan

she hasnt set foot in a delt house since freshman year, you seriously think she’ll show? 

Max

five bucks says she does

Dan

youre on 

Noah

i just wanna make it clear

that if she does show

D I B S

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #frat!tom

[writinginstardust]

Not So Meet-Cute

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x reader

Prompt: I'm having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and i hit you instead

Warnings: swearing I think

A/N: Thanks to @writingbychelle for requesting this prompt! Can you even imagine the horror of accidentally attacking a president’s son?

Word Count: 1521

*

I woke up with a crick in my neck and chilly toes, to bright light streaming in through the window. Much brighter than the winter mornings I was used to back home. I rolled off the couch and padded over to the window wrapping a blanket over my shoulders and mentally thanking whoever designed Georgetown student housing for carpeting the floors. 

Blinding whiteness greeted me when I reached the window and I audibly gasped. Snow. Everywhere. Blanketing the world and silencing it in a way it never quite managed to do in England. It was magical. Even if it was still just a college campus.

“(Y/N), good, you’re up.” I turned around to find my friend, Emily, emerging from her room, still in pyjamas but disgustingly perky for the morning.

“It’s snowing,” I informed her, probably rather uselessly. 

“Yeah, it does that here sometimes,” she said dismissively. Honestly, only a year and a half living here and she was already completely accustomed to and unbothered by snow, something I so rarely got to enjoy.

“Well we have to go out and play in it. I demand it.”

“Fine. But we have to go have a snowball fight on the Mall, everyone does it. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Ooo, is this some kind of Georgetown tradition I get to take part in?” I’d heard about quite a number of them that had intrigued me in the past.

“Yep. You can say you’re one of us after this.” She grinned. “Now go shower, I’m gonna make pancakes.”

*

The Mall was filled with people already when we arrived, almost all of them students, every one of them having the time of their lives. We found a few of Emily’s friends and joined in their snowball war, my side obviously winning as Emily’s surrendered. The rest of them headed off to get coffee, having apparently been there hours before, but we weren’t done just yet. It was time for a one on one showdown to see who was the superior fighter.

“Hey! Em!” She turned at the sound of my voice and I launched a snowball at her. She was too quick though and dove for the ground before it could hit her. Instead it sailed over her and smacked right into the face of a guy passing by. Shit. 

The guy stopped in his tracks and turned towards me, brushing snow out of his hair. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t look particularly pleased at this turn of events. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” I rushed forward, trying to apologize. Emily was climbing back to her feet looking tense and vaguely horrified. I knew how she felt. “I was aiming at my friend but she ducked and I didn’t even realise you were there and oh my god are you alright? I really am so so sorry for hitting you.”

His scowl softened into a slight smile and wow, now I was close, I couldn’t help noticing just how cute this guy was. I just had to hit him, of all people, in the face with a snowball. 

“It’s alright. It was an accident.” Well at least he wasn’t mad at me, that was nice. And god, his voice was beautiful. Can a voice be beautiful? I wasn’t sure it could before but his definitely was. I felt like I recognised it too. And his face. The longer I looked at him, the more I felt as if I’d seen him somewhere before.

“I feel like I recognise you… Do you go to Georgetown or something?” I could see him trying not to laugh and it was as adorable as it was confusing.

“Yeah, I’m studying government and politics there.” I made a face automatically at that. I hated politics.

“Oh, you might know my friend Emily then,” I gestured towards her and she came to stand beside me. “She’s studying something political there.”

“(Y/N),” she hissed in my ear. “That’s Alex Claremont-Diaz.” The guy - Alex - seemed to be struggling even harder in his effort not to laugh now. 

Claremont-Diaz...political major...oh shit. It took a couple of seconds but I finally put it together. That’s why he looked familiar. He was the First Son of the United States. And I’d attacked him with a snowball. I felt horror creeping up and knew it was showing on my face as Alex finally lost it and cracked up laughing.

“So,” I started slowly. “You’re telling me, I just hit the president’s son with a snowball?” 

Alex was still laughing when he managed a “yes” in response. “And quite hard by the way.”

“Again, I am so sorry.” I apologised once more but he waved it off, finally managing to stop laughing. “So when should I expect to be taken out by the secret service? I want to make sure this asshole at work knows how much I hate him before I go.” Alex laughed again before replying. He really did have a wonderful laugh.

“Don’t worry, the secret service won’t take you out. I will though.” Again, it took me a couple of seconds to get his meaning, my brain was short circuiting a bit, but I felt my cheeks heating as I understood. And, well, I wasn’t going to say no. He might be the president’s son, and that was kinda daunting, but he was also cute as hell and a really nice guy.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, trying and failing to keep my smile under control. “That would be nice.”

He grinned and passed me his phone to put my number in. I couldn’t quite believe this was something that was actually happening to me right now. Entering my name, I finished creating the contact and handed the phone back to him.

“Well, unfortunately I have places to be right now,” he smiled regretfully. “But I’ll text you. …(Y/N),” he added after glancing at his phone quickly and making me realise I hadn’t actually told him before. Maybe that had been a good thing because it had never sounded as sweet as it did when he said it.

“Okay,” I said rather uselessly. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“See you later.” With a final smile, he turned and continued on his way. Emily was practically vibrating beside me and exploded when he was barely out of earshot.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my fucking god!” She whisper-yelled. “You did not just get Alex Claremont-Diaz’s phone number!”

“Well, I mean technically he has my phone number.” I couldn’t stop smiling and it didn’t really matter who had who’s phone number.

“Semantics,” Emily shrugged. “This is insane. And all you had to do was hit him in the face with a snowball.” I cringed a bit at the reminder of that but she just laughed. “At least you two will have a good meet-cute story to tell your children.”

“Em!” I screeched. I’d only just met the guy and she was apparently planning our wedding and future family. 

“I’m just saying…” My phone buzzed at that moment and I was thankful to whoever had unknowingly helped me out of this conversation. It was a text from an unknown number and I knew who even if he hadn’t bothered to sign his name. Alex.

unknown number: try not to hit any other guys with snowballs. I don't want to be competing with half of dc xx

I grinned down at my phone, ignoring Emily’s smug smile in my peripheral as I quickly saved his number and typed a reply.

me: promise xx

I looked up and in the direction he’d left. He hadn’t got all that far yet and I saw him smile as he looked back over his shoulder and met my gaze. Hopefully he was far enough not to notice the flush creeping across my cheeks again.

alex: dinner tonight?

me: sounds good

I checked with Emily before sending that and she told me that if I didn’t say yes she would disown me as a friend. Clearly I didn’t have a choice. Not that I wanted one anyway.

alex: I'll come by at 6:30. 

me: okay, I'll see you later x

alex: can’t wait xx

I put my phone away then, barely registering what I was actually doing. Wow. Okay. This was a thing that was really happening.

“Hey, Earth to (Y/N).” Emily’s voice brought me back to reality.

“Huh?” 

“Let’s go. You need to find something to wear tonight. None of the clothes you brought are date appropriate.”

“That’s because I wasn’t planning to go on any dates.”

“I know, I know. But now you are, so we need to go shopping.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me along behind her, very much on a mission now. Another day I might have complained but I was too happy right now. After all, it wasn’t everyday I hit the First Son in the face with a snowball and managed to get a date out of it. Statistically, it was unbelievably improbable and yet here I was. It only made it all the sweeter.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #alex claremont diaz x reader #alex claremont-diaz x you #alex claremont diaz imagine #rwrb fanfic #rwrb imagine #red white and royal blue fanfic #red white and royal blue imagine #reader insert

[iiasha-archived]

Rules: you can only repeat one artist and only one time, so we can all kind of spread new 🎶 to the people we tag. Try to listen to at least one of the songs people rec here.

tagged by @rosevlolets and with good timing because we’re in the music mood TONIGHT ❤️❤️❤️ under read more because i blabbed too much

1) one song you 💛 the first time you listened to and never got tired of?

listen i honestly do get tired of songs fairly quickly but i never have and never will get tired of Your Face by Louie and Lee Hyun Woo it probably is one of my favorite songs of all time no joke 

2) one song you 😭 every time you listen or makes you emotional?

bell’s palsy by suggi. i don’t think a song has ever made me emotional to this extent; both the lyrics and melody are so heartbreaking and this is probably the only song (besides maybe the one in 11) to actually make me physically tear up just by the song alone

3) one song that always makes you happy/😁?

hmmmm i’m not sure. i’ll pick VERY NICE! by Seventeen :)

4) one song that you would dedicate to your best friend and/or your family?

this one is specifically for my dad. Rice Field by Jay Chou contains a lot of nostalgic memories for both of us, it’s his favorite song and it quickly became mine throughout my childhood (the lyrics/message/mv are really profound but don’t actually have to do with anything we just both really love this song djfkalfjkda i always think about my dad when i hear this and not for reasons implicated by the MV i just wanna make that clear lmaooo)

5) one song with a production (the sounds, the beat, the mood) you 😍?

Moment by Su Yunying!!! yes i was one of the many who was captivated by that video floating around tumblr of the two dancers performing an adaption of painted skin (which is a super famous series of chinese films which BY THE WAY i also really love Painted Heart by Jane Zhang which is the main OST for it) but for real i especially fell in love with this because of the instrumental’s (like the fucking DRUMS yo) and su’s super unique singing like i’m obsessed with this song

6) one song with perfect, amazing, outstanding lyrics?

i’ll be honest i don’t really pay attention to lyrics... like ever... so i have no idea (like the artist in 2 is the only one who immediately comes to mind but i already used him so...) i guess i’ll say WOW by 3RACHA bc it’s fucking hilarious and the only other song that comes to mind when i think of lyrics jklfadsjkfas

7) one song that you would recommend to anyone?

can i recommend exo’s entire discography. please.

8) one song you don’t understand why you like so much but you do anyway?

Ghost by Adia Tay, it’s really not the kind of music i normally listen to/music that makes its way into my top faves but i’ve been obsessed with it for a while like a LONG while

9) one song that you think people, in general, wouldn’t like but you do?

hmmmm this is kinda a hard one. the only thing that comes to mind is probably obscure vocaloid songs i used to be really into? i can’t really think of any off the top of my head though

10) one song people normally like and you don’t like or hate?

this is opening up a can of bees but literally anything by blackpink and most of bts’ music post-wings/spring day era but i also question whether people actually like these songs or like the hype of it

11) one song you would call a masterpiece?

i’m gonna say Reset by Ayaka Hirahara from the okami soundtrack but mainly because the okami soundtrack in of itself is an absolute masterpiece. i really do fucking love this track though and it was definitely a contender for songs that make me emotional bc the experience okami gives you is... so much... and having this play at the credits.... like bitch how you gonna make me cry over the entire final boss battle and then throw this emotional shit at me

12) one song you recently (last 30 days max) discovered and really liked it?

going on by Gaho!! idk why i just found it considering i’ve heard other stuff from this album fdakljdfa

13) one song you listen to to get pumped like you wanna tear down the fucking government or something?

ignoring the fact that it was an opening for a vocaloid anime game definitely NO SCARED by ONE OK ROCK

tagging @poeticallyspaghetti @yeomjoo @irenerei @sweetchaos-yk @yadisvt @seungchansol @bbinie @s0ftbb @nigiriboy

#tag game #song recs

[dresupi]

Fox on the Run - Dean W./Darcy

Ship: Dean Winchester/Darcy Lewis For: @artemisgarden Song: “Fox on the Run” - Sweet - 1974 Length: 1849 Rating: T Tags: High School Friends, Acquaintances to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fade to black, to be continued possibly, Hell Hounds, Requited Crushes

Summary:

Dean’s never been impressed with Darcy, but when she calls him and his brother for help, she proves she doesn’t need him or anyone to look out for her. Suddenly, she’s looking a lot better than he remembered.

-------------------------------

When she called, she got Dean first. And she asked for Sam.

Dean hadn’t really registered what her voice would sound like now. It had been over fifteen years since he’d last seen her anyway.

But she stopped short when she heard him. He noticed that.

He’d said three words to her. “Hello?” and “Sure thing” before handing the phone to his brother.

“Hey…” Sam started. “Oh hey, Darce.”

“Darce?” Dean mouthed.

“Hold on…” Sam said into the phone before turning to him. “Darcy Lewis. You remember, y’all used to hang out in high school. She’s kind of kept in touch?”

“Not with me,” Dean replied, but his brother already wasn’t listening.

He frowned, trying to equate the voice on the phone with the girl who had bothered the bejeezus out of him in high school.  How could Sam have thought they were friends?

At first, teenaged-him had kind of written her off as some mean girl who got off on making him stammer out some razor-edged reply to something equally cutting that she’d lobbed at him. She tossed insults like throwing stars that she wasn’t sure would stick, but if they did, it would make her day better.

He hadn’t hated her, but he definitely wouldn’t consider Darcy Lewis a friend. And now Sammy was telling him that he and she had kept in touch?

What for?

He kept his eye on Sam until he’d ended the call with Darcy, placing his phone back on the table beside his laptop and going back to typing.

“Uh-uh, Slick,” Dean shook his head and Sam glanced up at him. “Why’d she call you?”

“Oh well, I thought it was just to check-in, but I think she has something legit she needs us to look into.”

“Wait a minute. You guys talk just to check-in?”

“Yeah. It’s just friendly, nothing like that, don’t worry,” Sam winked and turned back to his laptop. “She’s in Willowdale, West Virginia…”

“Are you on crack?” Dean asked. “I don’t care if y’all are long-distance lovers, I don’t give two squirrel shits about Darcy Lewis.”

“Well, we’re not.”

“Good for you.”

“She’s in West Virginia, so that’s only like a couple of hours from where we are now…”

“Try five hours,” Dean corrected him, reaching for the keys. “I’ll go check out, you pack up the car.”

----------------------

Time had been kind to Darcy Lewis.

Not that Dean would let anyone living or dead know that.

And it certainly wasn’t that he’d expected her to look the same as she had fifteen years before. He hadn’t.

But he was sure she’d been mousier looking in high school. Well, not mousy. Like a chipmunk. An annoying little chipmunk who ate too loudly and laughed too much.

Sam was the one who spotted her sitting there at a minuscule table in the back of the university coffee shop. She stood up and Sam enveloped her in a big bear hug, picking her up off the ground since he was the size of a moose and she was still a short stack.  Maybe a short stack and a half.

Dean started to nod his head, but she threw her arms around him as well, so he had to return the hug, right? He had to.

He cleared his throat nervously as Sam took way too long to get to the point, so Dean figured he would. “So you said you had a problem?” he asked, his voice a bit more gruff than normal.

“Yeah… well, the university does…”

“You’re still in college?” Dean asked, kind of surprised.

“Not that it would matter if I was, but no. I work there. I teach poly-sci,” she retorted.

He cracked up a little at that. “So what’s a poly-sci major doing calling a couple of paranormal hunters?”

“Is that what y’all do?” she quipped. “I thought y’all got rid of pests.”

“You said you thought it was a werewolf?” Sam interrupted.

“Yeah,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ears and hopping back up on the stool.  Dean and Sam followed suit, taking seats around the tiny, but really tall table.  There were drinks there already.  Darcy’s had her lipstick smeared on the lid. The other two were a frozen blended concoction with whipped cream swirled on the top. And another cardboard cup with steam escaping the hole in the top.

Dean started to grab that one, but Darcy nodded to the blended one in front of him. “That’s for you.  I got Sam a black coffee.”

“That’s what I drink too,” Dean insisted.

“But I ordered that especially for you,” Darcy pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and making him subconsciously wonder how soft it was before he snapped the hell out of it.

“Why?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the drink.

“It’s a Pecan Pie Frappuccino.  Seasonal, but I always see it here and think of you.”

He was quiet for a long moment before taking a tentative sip. Of course, it was delicious. He took a longer sip. He did like pecan pie.

“Is it good?” Darcy asked.

“He loves it,” Sam answered for him. “Tell me about the werewolf.”

------------------------------

The ‘werewolf’ turned out to be a pack of feral dogs, but Darcy had been right about one thing, there was something supernatural about them.

They were hellhounds. And they had her scent.

That was why she kept seeing them around campus. She’d assumed it was the same dog, but it wasn’t. It was a pack of at least six.

Actually, seven if Dean’s count was correct. It was difficult to do an accurate headcount when they were trying to throw themselves through the shatterproof glass windows of the Student Union Center.

Unfortunately for safety’s sake, he and Sam hadn’t figured out that it was a pack of hellhounds until Darcy was holed up in her office grading papers all alone.

They had raced up the stairs of her building as fast as they could because the elevator was out, hoping like hell that they got there before the hounds did.

And they almost had. They got there about thirty seconds after Darcy tasered the alpha hound, and just in time to grab her hand and drag her out and down the hallway. Down the stairs and into the courtyard.

They holed up in the empty student union building. Well, nearly empty. They did frighten some late-night bookstore worker, but the hellhounds didn’t seem to bother with anyone other than Darcy. Small favors.

“Look, that taser of yours is pretty sweet, but this might work better,” Dean said, passing Darcy one of the salt-loaded shotguns he had in a duffel bag.

“You want me to shoot something in the middle of a university campus?” Darcy rolled her eyes and reached for the gun regardless.

She looked really good while shooting it too. But Dean wasn’t supposed to be focusing on that. Not in the line of danger like this.

Once they had hit them all with salt, Sam tracked them down to the office of the person who had summoned them. One of Darcy’s paid interns.

Darcy, for her part, was surprised but not shocked, and the hounds went back to hell.

But that wasn’t really the point of any of this.

The point was… Dean found it difficult to leave Willowdale afterward, so he and Sam set up shop in a hotel near the campus. He told Sam it was to keep an eye on the aftermath of the hellhounds.  But really, it was to keep an eye on Darcy.

For the most part, she left him alone. But sometimes she’d show up before work with one of those pecan pie things, and she’d stay long enough to drink her latte, say something that made his face go red, and then she’d leave.

“You gonna make a move, or should I start looking at apartment listings?” Sam asked one day.  They’d only been staying here for about ten days. Maybe two weeks.

“What move? Why?” Dean asked, knowing exactly what his little brother was talking about, but didn’t want to admit it.

“Darcy. You gonna make a move or--”

“Me, make a move? I thought you were the one with the hots for her,” Dean deflected.

“What is it you used to say? Piss or get off the pot?” Sam countered. “Make a move.” He tossed him the phone. “Do it, or you’ll regret it.”

He was right again. He was always right. That little shit.

Dean got up and walked out into the breezeway, moving through the contacts until he found Darcy’s number.  He selected it and waited while it rang.  She answered on the third ring.

“Hello, I’m in class, so make it quick.”

“You didn’t have to answer if you were working,” he said with a smirk.

“You never call me, I always call you. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to go get coffee with me tonight?”

“Tonight’s too late for coffee, let’s make it burgers instead.”

“Burgers it is,” he replied.

--------------------------

“So you really didn’t like me in high school?” Darcy asked, laughing a little before she practically unhinged her jaw to take a bite of the double bacon cheeseburger she’d ordered. “Not even a little bit?” She muttered around a mouthful of burger.  Still chewed loudly.

“I mean, possibly a little…” Dean admitted. He’d been rethinking things. Maybe Darcy was just one of those people who took fifteen years to grow on you.

“Oh, I had a huge crush,” she said with a small grin. “I grew out of it though.”

“That’s too bad. I think I grew into mine.” Her eyes were deep blue, and she rolled them before looking away.

“No,” she said simply, taking another bite. “Burgers is all this will ever be.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “Not that I don’t trust your judgment on this, but…”

“Because I will never see you.”

“I won’t see you either,” he countered.

“Oh you’re right, let’s do it,” she quipped, setting her burger down on the plate.

“I just meant… it wouldn’t be just you not seeing me.”

“Wouldn’t it, though?” she asked. “I bet you have a girl in every state, don’t you?”

“I ain’t got one in West Virginia.”

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “I can’t be one of fifty.”

“Fifty? Wow, that’s generous. And seriously, I’m not seeing anyone right now. I was just joking before.”

“You aren’t really the type of guy who’s going to settle down, Dean Winchester.”

“And you’re so deep in that white-picket-fence life that you’re not ever going to even entertain the possibility that we try for something?”

“I don’t like worrying if you’re cheating.”

“Same,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m going to date other people when you’re not here. If I tell you ahead, it’s not cheating.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he countered.

“How long are you in town for?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Until the wind changes, I guess.”

“Okay, Mary Poppins. I’ll get the check, you get your car.”

#Darcy Lewis #Dean Winchester #Darcy/Dean #Dean/Darcy #Crossover #Crossover Fusion #70s song prompts #artemisgarden

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighty Two

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 19th, 2003

Emile blinked at Dice uncomprehendingly, then looked at the number in his hand. “And this is it? You’re sure of it?”

“He wasn’t listed by name in the phone book, but I followed him to his address and this is what it was in the book,” Dice said, tapping the paper. “I found him for you. You’re welcome.”

“How do I get him to answer the phone?” Emile asked, slightly hysterically.

“That, I can’t help you with. I know he saw me a couple times, so I can’t exactly approach him. But if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I do believe my services are done.”

“Yes, thank you, yes,” Emile said, passing over the envelope filled with cash. “Thank you Dice. Truly.”

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Thomas,” Dice said simply, standing and holding out his hand, which Emile shook. “Now go get your boyfriend’s brother over here.”

  March 25th, 2003

Emile tapped his foot impatiently as the phone rang...and rang...and rang. He had called this number twice already and he had still gotten no reply. Just as Emile was about to hang up and call again, the line picked up and a very irritated voice exclaimed, “If you’re a friend of Jamie’s, I don’t know how you got this number but I want you to hang up and never call back again, and don’t give this number to her either.”

“Uh, I don’t know who Jamie is, please don’t hang up the phone!” Emile exclaimed in a rush. “Please, please tell me that you’re Toby Picani?”

“...Yes,” Toby said, voice on guard. “Who are you?”

Emile owed Dice his life. “Uh, Emile. Emile Thomas. Uh...I don’t know if you remember me, it was Thanksgiving two-thousand when we last talked.”

“...You’re right, I don’t remember you, and you have ten seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t hang up.”

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! “Mostly because I’m Remy’s boyfriend?” Emile tried.

The line was silent for so long Emile wasn’t sure that Toby hadn’t hung up on him. Then, a very shocked voice choked out, “...You’re...Remy’s...boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Emile said, scratching the back of his neck. “And I’ve been searching for you for quite a while.”

There was another pregnant pause. Emile shifted on his feet. “Oh, my God,” Toby breathed. “Oh, my God, I thought I’d never see the day that I’d get contact with Remy again. I thought I’d lost him for good, and now, here you are, Remy’s boyfriend, calling me. Which, speaking of, boyfriend? He finally got the stones to confess his attraction to people?”

“Well, kind of. Our first date he didn’t realize it was a date, but we had been pining after each other for...a month or two at least, so...” Emile laughed. “He said he liked me, but only after the first date.”

Toby laughed too. “Oh, God, that boy is a gay disaster and I love him so much,” he said. “Is he there? Can I talk to him? I really want to talk to him, it’s been too long...Our parents said he had written a letter saying he didn’t want to keep in touch when I realized that Mom had found him. But by the time I realized they had been lying, Remy had moved again and I couldn’t get his address from Mom.”

“My blood is boiling just listening to that manipulative witch’s tactics,” Emile said calmly. “But Remy isn’t home, which is actually why I called now. I was hoping you’d be willing to participate in a little surprise?”

“What sort of surprise?” Toby asked.

“Well, Remy’s been really wound up recently, to the point that one thing goes wrong and he’s about ready to burst into tears. And I suggested that he take some time to destress. A long weekend sort of thing. We have a guest bedroom in our new townhouse. You could use it if you wanted to stay over during that time.”

“Of course! I know how stressed Rem can get. It takes forever to get him worked up, but once he is, it can feel impossible to get him to relax. A long weekend where we can hang out might be just what he needs, though. I have enough paid time-off to come over for up to a week, though I know that you might not want me staying that long. Do you two live together...?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Emile asked.

“No, no problem,” Toby quickly assured him. “So long as I...y’know...don’t have to hear about my brother’s sex life I’m good to go. I was just wondering more for the sake of if I’d find you shuffling around in the morning in nothing but your underwear.”

Emile cackled, before clapping a hand over his mouth. “No, that won’t be an issue,” he said. “When can you come over?”

“Well, I’ll need to clear stuff with my bosses and get packed but I can be there...Friday evening?” Toby proposed.

“Sounds good! I’ll make sure that Remy’s working on his finances for the shop at home in that case,” Emile said.

“Remy owns a shop?!” Toby asked.

“Oh, yeah! He’s starting his own little niche coffee shop on Main Street. It’s called Sleep Easy. If you get the chance, stop for a cup sometime. All the baristas are gonna use Remy’s recipes, and that man is a genius when it comes to coming up with new coffee blends,” Emile gushed.

“Wow, someone who loves Remy that much? I’m super glad you’re a thing,” Toby said. “Nobody I’ve ever known has called Remy a genius before, except maybe me, and I’m not sure if I ever told him that. But he’s super sharp when it comes to culinary stuff, always has been. Like, yeah, he’s good at math too, but his passion usually lies with food someplace.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing to watch him cook, especially considering for a while there I didn’t realize he could because he was always eating granola for breakfast and instant ramen for dinner,” Emile laughed.

Toby chuckled. “That sounds like Rem, all right. He doesn’t like putting in the effort often, but when he does...it’s beautiful.”

“I know,” Emile sighed, thoughts travelling to Remy and him cooking together.

Toby cleared his throat. “Anyway, Emile, I’m definitely coming over, you’d better believe that. I can’t thank you enough for tracking me down. I was annoyed when I realized someone was following me, but if it’s because you wanted your boyfriend’s brother to have contact with him, well, I think I can give you a pass.”

Emile laughed. “Thanks, Toby. I’ll see you Friday, we can talk more then? I think Remy’s coming home soon and I don’t want to give away the surprise. I’ll give you another call when Remy’s busy with something to give you our address, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Toby said. “Thank you again, Emile.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for Remy,” Emile said simply.

The front door opened and Remy called, “Honey, I’m home!”

A myriad of curse words flew around Emile’s head as he said in a hushed whisper, “He’s back, I’ll call you soon.”

He hung up the phone as Remy walked into the room, a relieved, slightly dopey smile on Remy’s face. “Hi, honey,” he breathed, kissing Emile and holding him close.

“Hi,” Emile said softly as Remy pulled away. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” Remy groaned. “I can’t wait to quit my job. I’ve decided I’m putting in my two-weeks notice in April. The store is opening in May. I can’t wait any longer, it’ll drive me mad.”

“A light at the end of the tunnel,” Emile said with a soft smile.

“Exactly,” Remy sighed. “And I got permission for the long weekend off. You have any plans for what to do then? Go to the beach or something?”

“Nah, I was figuring it would probably be a weekend in,” Emile said with a shrug. “And I’m not sure my managers are gonna let me have off anyway, because they’ve been wobbling back and forth on whether or not they need me.”

“God, that sucks,” Remy said. “I wish they’d give you a straight answer.”

“Even a gay answer would do,” Emile said.

Remy snorted. “Yeah, a gay one would work, too.”

Emile hugged Remy for a half-second before turning to get a snack from the pantry to hide the beaming grin that threatened to split his face.

“You got good news from Dice and that meeting last week?” Remy asked. “I know he was trying to get contact info and that you’ve been swamped for the last five days.”

“He got a phone number,” Emile said. “From a guy who knows a guy who knows someone in the white pages. No idea what the number is for, but he swears that he’s seen Toby around the town when he went to check in-person. So with any luck it’s his number.”

Remy was practically vibrating. “Can we call it?”

Emile sighed. “I just talked with my parents, Rem, I’m tired and I want a break. How about this weekend?”

“...It’s Tuesday, Emile. You want to wait five days?!” Remy asked incredulously.

“It’s more likely he’ll be home,” Emile reasoned, internally begging Remy to not push further. “And besides, if you knew where he lived, you’d drive out there and stay, like, a week, and get fired from your job.”

“I’m quitting anyway!” Remy said, jutting his chin out in challenge.

“Remy, please,” Emile sighed. “We kinda need the money to start your shop, you said you wanted at least another month’s paycheck to work with last month. Just, wait until we have a long weekend.”

Remy scowled. “Emile, I want you to know I still love you, but I kinda hate you right now.”

“I know, I know,” Emile soothed. “But give it a little time. Let yourself relax a little. I know if you call the number and it’s not him you’ll burst into tears tonight.”

“Yeah,” Remy sighed, leaning against the wall. “But I don’t like it.”

“I know you don’t,” Emile agreed. “I just want you to be in the right headspace.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remy dismissed, grousing.

Emile took a breath as silently as he could. The anger Emile was feeling towards Remy’s mother was threatening to bubble up to the surface, and he didn’t want to give up the surprise by being angry. Remy would know something was wrong and he wouldn’t give up until he knew the full story.

Remy looked at Emile with desperation and pleading and he asked, “Can we at least try the number? Can you try it and tell me?”

“This weekend,” Emile promised. “I just want to make sure someone’s home.”

“Then let’s call around dinner time!” Remy said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t want to wait for the weekend!”

Emile just shook his head. He would have said something, but Remy’s eyes were growing glassier by the second, and before Emile could open his mouth, Remy dashed out of the room and slammed the door to their bedroom.

Massaging his forehead, Emile groaned. Should he just give the jig up and reveal what was going on? It would probably make Remy happier. Emile went upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. “Hey, Remy?” he called.

“No!” Remy snapped from inside the bedroom. “I’m not talking to you right now! I’m too angry!”

“Remy, I’m sorry!” Emile exclaimed through the wood. “Come on, please? We can call the number tonight!”

He got no response. Emile tried the door, and finding it unlocked, he found Remy staring at the photo album, crying. Emile sighed. “Remy...”

Remy didn’t respond.

Emile walked over and sat next to Remy, looking at him in earnest. “Remy, please? Talk to me?”

“When I’m not tempted to punch you in the face,” Remy said, voice tight.

Emile grimaced. “I really want to help, Rem. I just don’t want to get your hopes up. I mean, he might not be home, this might not be his number, he might not answer even if he is home because he has a stalker and he might only accept calls he knows are coming.”

“I know,” Remy said. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt that you’re not as eager to help as I thought you were.”

Emile felt like a bucket of ice water had been dunked over his head. “Remy, it’s not that I don’t want to help,” he said. “You know...you know when you go to an amusement park, and you get in line for a roller coaster, and it’s really intimidating and you start second-guessing yourself and wanting to delay the inevitable?”

Remy slowly nodded.

“Toby just...isn’t someone we know, Rem. It’s been over two years. He could have changed. And I’m scared of that hurting you.”

“I know you’re worried, but that doesn’t give you the right to block me from calling,” Remy sighed.

“You’re right,” Emile said. “If you want to call, go ahead.”

Remy didn’t respond for a minute. “...I’ll wait for now. This whole conversation proves I’m not ready for it to not be him. Give me a couple days. If you don’t remind me, I might get mad at you, but I won’t kill you.”

Emile felt his heart settle. “I can do that.”

Remy nodded, and kissed Emile’s nose. “Dinner?”

“Please.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #Emile Picani #ts sleep

[dnawield--a]

003. PARENTAL SKILLS

I’ve discussed on other platforms like D/iscord and my own tag ramblings, but I’ve got a mix of the original B/en 10,000 episode, the original AU episode of K/en 10, as well as O/mniverse’s end game for Ben, with my own personal touches on it.

For starters, and to make this clear: my Ben is a trans man, and Kai is a trans woman. This is only in my canon, but this is how my Ben’s future goes. He and Kai meet up during his decade long isolation after he kills V/ilgax when he’s 20 (about to be 21). They find each other again after Ben has finished taking care of a bad guy, and it’s just pure luck that he even bothers talking to her.

I’d also like to preface: these two are a bad match. Ben’s an asshole to her in a lot of aspects, and doesn’t do much in the aspect of comforting. Yeah, he’s not good at comforting people in general, but he’s constantly making comments about how they’re supposed to be together in the future DESPITE Kai’s obvious discomfort with that.

Kai doesn’t fucking like Ben as Ben; she thinks his aliens are cool, and has an affinity for one of his aliens: Wo/lfblitzer. She’s rude back to him, and at times, just rude for the sake of being rude even after he’s helped her with something. They’re just NOT a good match at all. Kai’s a bit more of a dick, but I hate the people who just outright say Kai is the ONLY shitty one in their forced shitty romance in OV. It’s bad for both, they’re both really toxic to each other, and while they had their moments where they were KINDA cute, it was brief. It’s very reminiscent of the shitty 90s romance; y’know when they’re both pricks to each other but apparently that’s charming and not an obvious red flag that these relationships tend to end in bad break ups, divorces, or separation, but WHATEVER. Glamorize a shitty time period of shitty romance in a 2010s cartoon I GUESS.

But back to shitty parenting:

So yeah, that’s the night that Gwendolyn and Kenny are conceived. Ben hasn’t been doing HRT because he just can’t keep track of how long it’s been, and at this point, he’s already had top surgery. He’s always in alien mode so he doesn’t notice when he’s on his period, but he DOES start to notice that his aliens are not as efficient, and eventually he’s putting two and two together.

He waits out having to go back to his home about 7 months in. He’s in constant alien mode, switching to ones that are holding out better during pregnancy until he’s just unable to do anything about it and his aliens’ forms are suffering from it. He would’ve gotten an abortion, but two reason why he didn’t were: he KNOWS he’s supposed to have kids, he just didn’t think it’d be HIM having them, so he’s just going “I hate! This!” and also because he doesn’t trust anyone to do an abortion, and he doubts Azmuth would do that for him. So when he does go back and calls up Kai about it, she actually decides to come back and they DO make plans on how to work with this.

Low and behold, the twins are born when Ben is at the crisp age of 26, and while Ben’s kinda quiet, everyone puts it down that this is stressful ‘cause childbirth is just stressful in general, AND this has to be fucking with him and causing serious dysphoria, so most just leave him alone for the time being. Kai and him do talk about what to name the kids ‘cause they really didn’t think, and Ben just says to name them after his cousins. There’s a subconscious ‘yeah my cousins mean a lot to me’ but ALSO because he just didn’t have any ideas ‘cause he was already thinking about when he was leaving.

Kai was alright with that, though she did say she was gonna do middle names, so Kenny’s middle name is Tsela ( which means resembling a star / stars lying own ) and Gwendolyn’s middle name is Ooljee ( which means moon ). Ben thought they were fine, though in two weeks, it didn’t matter what his opinion was because the doctors came to check in on him to find his bed empty.

He was only in the hospital for so long because they noticed a lot of untreated issues with his health, and the twins’ birth was extremely premature ( his mom’s side of the family tend to have issues with their kids being born too fucking early ), and with the lack of nutrients Ben had his his body plus still super heroing for a majority of the pregnancy, the kids were also in intensive care ‘cause by all means, it’s a miracle those kids aren’t dead.

Everyone tries to get a hold of him, but as per normal, he’s not easy to get a track on. They do find news of where he is via online news outlets. Kai is rightfully pissed, but she does her damn best for the first four to five years, she’s raising them practically alone. Ben doesn’t call on their birthdays. He doesn’t even call to check up on her. For the first two years, she does find money mysteriously in her bank accounts from an “unknown” source, but she knows that’s Ben’s pretty shitty way of supporting his kids. After the third year, and not wanting him to have any say in what he gets from this, she sends a message that goes unanswered directly about wanting him to fuck off. If he’s not gonna be there, she doesn’t want to see money from him.

He does that and stops sending money. She’s still mad about that because wow, not even gonna TRY to maybe argue about it? But she raises them on her own, with her own money. They don’t live nearly as luxuriously as they should be given their father is Ben 10,000, but they get by. Gwendolyn is fine with that as she holds the most resentment about her father not being in her life, but Kenny constantly tries to get into communication with his dad. His mom finds him trying to go out on his own to find his dad because of a lead, and Ben 10,000 doesn’t make any communication until AFTER the original Ben 10,000 episode of the OS happens.

It’s a slow progress, and still takes a good three months ( he is like 31 at this point ), but he gives Kai a call. Naturally, she hangs up the second he says its him. He ends up finally just going to her home, and they have a fight. More so, Kai is rightfully telling him he has a lot of nerve coming back after leaving her to care for them by herself. She mentions the money was a bull shit way to be a father.

And he takes it at face value. He does beg her to let him TRY, but she’s not having it. Ben does bring up some lawyers, and while Kai is pissed about the entire situation, she is happy that in the end, she gets to keep custody, BUT if they kids WANT to see their father, they have every right too. Gwendolyn pretty much only calls Ben by his name, and refuses to call her dad. Definitely hurts Ben, but he gets it.

Kenny, on the other hand, is obsessed with visiting his dad, and for a while, he has a rough patch with his mom because his dad is finally back, and he doesn’t understand WHY she gets so angry he wants to get to know his dad? His dad is the hero of heroes! His dad is a good guy! He fights evil doers and stops them from causing bad things to happen in the world! If anything, SHE should stop being so mad about it. Kai genuinely gets hurt hearing this, and Gwendolyn and Kenny do have a rocky relationship because of their very different views on their father.

Eventually, for their 10th birthday, Kai allows Ben to visit for their party, and promises NOT to give him the stink eye the entire time ( just some of the time ). Ben tends to get along more with Kenny, and sort of avoids Gwendolyn because he just doesn’t know how to make it up to her.

None of his relationships with his kids really get better until his kids are nearing their 20s and they can all actually talk to each other like adults. Gwendolyn definitely calls him out on everything, and even gets pissed if in that verse he has kids with another partner and probably cries about why THEY weren’t good enough. Kenny tells his dad it’s pretty fucked up he’s idolized his dad and that his dad didn’t deserve any of his idolization.

They eventually get onto good terms, but regardless, the three of them know that Kai will be their favorite parent, and that they just don’t see him as their dad. He’s fine with that in the sense of he knows they have every right to feel like that. At the very least, they get along, and they DO eventually just all hang out. Ben and Kai sometimes talk with each other, but usually it’s been Kai telling him he should’ve gotten help. Maybe then he wouldn’t have fucked up so much as a father. He agrees, but he just tells her every time it’s too late to get mad about that again. She can stay mad. He knows his first shot at being a dad was awful, and he’s just grateful that she got used to him seeing the kids once in a while when he finally came to.

Even if he ever has kids with a partner that isn’t Kai, he’s sort of detached to his kids. Not to the degree of abandoning them, but he’s definitely the parent that the kid thinks hates them until they have their sitcom, “No I love you. I just don’t know how to be a good parent. I want to be, but I don’t know how” moment.

#hc. \ ɪ·ʟʟ sʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍʏ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀs #long post* #child abandonment* #pregnancy* #toxic relationship mention* #dysphoria mention*

[ilovemygaydad]

Friends in Dark Places [ch 13]

pairing: moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: kissing, mentions of panic attacks, crying, anxiety, worry, self hate, journaling, swearing, depression, flashback to the first chapter (same warnings apply to the first one), possibly something else?

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: so i have to repost all of these in a different format! yay fucking me!!!! please consider reblogging these if you’re a fan of this series because it’s all fucked up now

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Virgil’s lips were so soft. That was the only thought that ran through Patton’s mind. Heat rose to his cheeks as he gently pulled away, raising his fingertips to cover his mouth.

Oh my god. That just happened.

Someone had kissed him. And it wasn’t for their own benefit!

Virgil seemed to have calmed down for the most part, having leaned back on the glass door in awe. He had just done that. He had done that!

Patton called his mom, asking her to come pick them up. He wouldn’t tell Virgil, but their little, uh, incident made him worried that there would be more anxiety to follow if they stayed. He then shot a few texts to Logan so that he’d know what happened. 

Patton

Read 9:47

Hey, kiddo! Virgil and I are going to head home. He had a bit of a panic attack, so I called my mom to pick us up

Logan

Delivered 9:47

I could have driven you two home. Roman ditched me to, presumably, make out with someone.

Patton

Read 9:49

Sounds about right :P

Patton

Read 10:05

Logan

Logan

Delivered 10:06

Yes, Patton?

Patton

Read 10:08

Uh

Funny story

So, uh…

Virgil

Kissed me?

And now we’re holding hands

What do I do?

Logan

Delivered 10:08

You what now?

Patton are you serious?

Patton?

Patton

Read 10:11

Sorry I may have kissed him again

And by may have I mean that I definitely did

Wow he’s a really great kisser

Logan

Delivered 10:11

You sound like Roman.

Patton

Read 10:11

That’s fair 

It wasn’t necessarily a surprise that Patton liked Virgil. He easily and quickly grew attached to people, which made it simple for him to get along with others. He was liked by most, and he fell in love with ease. That wasn’t any different with Virgil; he’d just been hesitant to show it.

He saw the flash of headlights pulling up and stood, slipping his hand from Virgil’s. “Are you okay to walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Patton’s mind drifted back to the night that they had first met.

---

He had been trudging home when he saw the figure on the bridge.

It had been a pretty shit night, if he was going to be honest. Patton had been on his way to his boyfriend’s house, hoping to watch a movie or something, and decided to stop by the park to take a more scenic walk. He walked around the beautiful foliage until he saw them. Luke was sitting on a park bench with his hands needily clawing at another guy as they aggressively made out. It was unbelievable, yet the scene made complete sense. Patton spun on his heel and wandered around town for hours, losing track of time before he finally realized that he needed to head home. On his way, he saw the kid. He ran to the railing, hoping to catch them before they ended their life.

“Um,” Patton squeaked; his voice sounded weak to his own ears. “Hello? Please don’t jump.”

The person spun around so fast—far too fast to be safe while standing on the edge of an impending drop. Their scrutinizing eyes scanned Patton for just a second. “What are you doing here?!”

He hadn’t really thought that far. Patton didn’t want them to jump, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t too keen to retell the events of the night. “Um, I, uh, was just walking by and happened to see you here. I don’t want you to jump.”

The stranger stared at him for one. Two. Three beats.

“Look. You have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are. You don’t know my intentions, so just go away and leave me here alone.” The harsh tone in the stranger’s voice unsettled something deep in Patton’s stomach. Tears began to drip from his eyes, growing faster and faster until he was flat-out bawling on the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” The stranger spat.  “You’re being fucking loud! People are going to start trying to find out what’s happening can you—Fucking hell.” Patton heard the sound of feet on the pavement and immediately tried to wipe up his tears.

The teen spoke again. “Look. I’m off the ledge. Just stop fucking crying.” That prompted Pat to look up. He saw the hurt in the kid’s eyes and couldn’t bear to take any chances.

“Promise that you won’t jump off the bridge.”

“Yeah, whatever. I won’t jump off,” the kid scoffed, throwing in a complementary eye roll.

“I said to promise me!” The intensity in Patton’s voice shocked even him.

"I—What? Listen—“ “Promise me!” Patton yelled. “Promise me that you won’t kill yourself tonight! I don’t care what your reasoning is for doing this, but it’s not good enough! Promise me or I’m going to call the cops and tell them you’re trying to commit suicide, and I know that you don’t want the authorities involved.” It was a low blow, threatening to call the police, but he was pretty desperate at this point. Anything that’d work. He dug his phone out and wiggled it slightly, adding depth to his promise.

“I–okay, look–I promise I won’t kill myself tonight just please put the phone down. Please, don’t call the police. I promise; I won’t do anything.” The kid’s voice was rushed and breathy. They were struggling to breathe. 

Panic attack, his mind supplied. Oh no.

Patton dialed his mom’s number in a heartbeat. He quickly asked her to pick him up at the bridge. There was a flash of movement before a body came slumping into his arms. Pat gently scooped the stranger up.

And from that moment, Patton had become invested.

---

“I can walk.” Virgil wobbled a bit as he stood up, but he did seem to have the strength and energy. As soon as they were in the car, however, Virgil slumped into Patton and curled up, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his… friend?

Pat nearly let out a quiet “awwww” at how cute Virge was.

The whole ride home was silent. No music, no conversation, no nothing. Patton expected that he and his mother would be having a long conversation tomorrow about what had transpired, but that was a thought for another time.

Pat picked up the sleepy Virgil once they’d arrived and carried him slowly up the steps to Virgil’s bedroom. He was once again brought back to their first meeting. He’d gently taken set the stranger on his bed and made sure they were absolutely okay before leaving. Tonight, however, he had a feeling he’d be staying in the room.

He quietly went to his own room for a few minutes so both he and Virgil could change into pajamas. It was almost surprising that Virge was sat up, expectantly—and sleepily—awaiting Patton’s return.

“Do you want me to stay in here tonight?” It was barely a question. Virgil nodded and flopped back, pulling the covers up over his head and curling up. Unlike the first time they’d shared the bed, Patton immediately slipped under the blankets.

The buried Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and pulled it close as if it were some sort of comfort object. Silently, Patton mused that he’d only be able to retrieve full control of his body by prying himself from Virgil’s cold, dead hands. Soon enough, though, they both fell asleep, blissfully sleeping away any stress.

---

Patton woke up in the middle of the night. His body tended to do that--just randomly waking from slumber for no reason in particular. It was irritating, to say the very least.

Pat opened his eyes and saw Virgil’s delicate features just inches away. He was such a good kid. He was such a good friend.

The negative thoughts in his mind overwhelmed him in an instant. Oh, god. Oh no. No! No, no, no! I can’t do this. That would be unfair. I’m just going to hurt him. I’m going to hurt him. I can’t do that. I can’t!

He scrambled back, falling backwards off the bed. Patton stifled a scream with his hand, not wanting to wake Virgil. Of course the intrusive thoughts would come back just when he had something good in his life. Patton wasn’t meant to be happy.

You’re not good enough! You’re a terrible person—just like Jason used to tell you! You only hurt; you can’t fix anything. You break everything you touch!

Tears streamed down his face as he silently ran to his room. He had made a mistake--one that he didn’t know how to fix or even if he could fix it. He texted the only people he knew could help.

pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]

Guys I really messed up

loganch [1:35]

Patton, what are you doing up?

And what did you do?

Are you okay?

Do we need to hide a body?

princeofthegays [1:35]

Are you good????

pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]

So you know how virgil and I kissed??

Sorry if you didn’t know, ro

Anyway

That’s how I messed up

princeofthegays [1:36]

First of all, I’m proud of you

Second, how is that a bad thing? I’m not sure that I understand how love can be bad…

pattonly-amazing [1:36, read]

I’m going to end up hurting Virgil and it’s gonna kill me to see that happen

loganch [1:37]

Patton, that is literally absurd.

You obviously care for Virgil very much. Even I can see that. You have done nothing but have his best interest at heart since you met him. If you truly believe that you would hurt him, you are as stupid as a rock.

princeofthegays [1:37]

I’ve gotta agree with the brainiac for once

That didn’t help Patton in the slightest. He still felt off about the whole thing. He didn’t deserve the love that any of them gave him. He was terrible and just not a good person.

He wasn’t worth it.

---

Dear diary,

It’s been a long time since I’ve written in here—too long, maybe. I think it’s a good time to do so, though.

Let’s get things straight. Or rather, not straight. Pretty damn not straight to be honest. 

Virgil kissed me tonight. It was really great. But there’s just something that doesn’t settle right in me.

I can’t be with him. I ruin everything I touch. I can’t provide the love and care that he needs--I’m useless to him. Not to mention how he’s just going to hate me once he realizes how absolutely pathetic I am.

Virgil should’ve picked Roman. Ro is smart, charismatic, creative, romantic, and so many other things that I’m just not! He knows how to be a good partner. He can plan dates like the best of them, and he’s never once had a partner cheat on him because he’s just that damn irresistible. Roman is perfect; whereas, I’m the exact opposite. I’m ridiculously stupid (just ask Logan; he had to help me with countless assignments over the years), I’m too shy for my own good, and I take exactly zero risks (see: I’ve wanted to kiss Virgil for so long)!

Logan would also be better suited! He’s the smartest of anybody I know, and he’s considerate, thoughtful, and, even though he tries to hide it, loving. Logan has done research on every mental illness that he could possibly think of; he’d know exactly what to do in every circumstance Virgil found himself in.

And me? I just hurt people. I do stupid things without thinking and end up hurting my friends in the process. Nothing I’ve ever done or will ever do will account to anything! I’m worthless! Virgil deserves so much better than what I can give. He’s been hurt too many times before. I can’t. I just can’t.

- Patton

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#sanders sides fic #moxiety #logince #m writes things #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders