see, like, missy has been a very touchy character in this regen?
she snogs the doctor, and constantly rests her arm around him/on his shoulder (outside st paul’s, and once she’s free on the plane, to name a few times), and just holding on to him for dear life when he kisses her in the graveyard. she wraps her arm around osgood. in s9, she reaches into clara’s personal space to make her have the vortex manipulator, and she sits very closely to the doctor in the ship.
getting into people’s personal spaces is a very quick and effective way to make them very uncomfortable, and she uses this to her advantage to scare osgood, and her just being nearby people makes them nervous.
the scene in which she reaches for the doctor (and to me she looks like she’s reaching to fix his coat, like in s8 with the unit/cybermen in the square scene), he steps back, and it shows she wants to be near him and touch him for her own comfort, not to make him uncomfortable. she instantly stops, and freezes and looks down and laces her fingers together, kinda shakily. she doesn’t continue her attempt, which is something the old her might have done - stepping forward and not allowing a rejection in the first place.
12 recognizes, however, how much she needs that contact, but isn’t ready to give it. he’s not much of a hugging person, but he understands that she needs that from him, so he does what he can. her reaction to this, like she’s taking a breath, about to speak, is so fundamental. she knows he’s trying to help her too, but doesn’t know how to convey how much she needs it without embarrassing herself/acting ooc.
i feel that missy really needs that hug. she really, really needs it. even just from bill. she hasn’t really had physical contact with anyone in years, presumably, and that does things to a person whose character revolves a lot around it. she’s restraining herself so much.
♗ One falling asleep with the other’s head in their lap | Percabeth
(aka blushy cute post-tlo percabeth)
“Oh,” Percy said, blinking in surprise.
Annabeth clutched her books tighter to her chest, looking back at him. Percy looked like he’d just woken up from a nap, his black hair mussed and sticking up in all directions. He rubbed at his eyes.
“Are you gonna let me in, Seaweed Brain, or am I going to be standing here all day?”
“Oh,” Percy said again, then stepped to the side to let her pass. He shut the door behind her.
“Is that Annabeth?” came a voice from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom,” Percy yelled back. He put a hand on her back, his touch warm through the thin shirt. Annabeth blushed, ducking her head when he glanced back at her, dark eyes scanning her face.
They’d only been dating for a few months, not very long at all. The little things — his hand on her back, when their fingers brushed, when she let herself put her head on his shoulder — still made her want to melt. (Not that, of course, she’d ever tell Percy that. Ever.)
“Hi, Sally,” Annabeth said as they passed the kitchen. Percy’s mom looked over, pan in hand. Her face was dusted with flour, a common sight.
“Here to study?”
Annabeth hefted her books higher.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“Come on,” Percy murmured, lips at her ear, and Annabeth flushed. She glanced at Sally one more time before being led away towards Percy’s room, her hand in his.
As usual, there was pretty much nowhere in Percy’s room to work. She could tell he’d made an effort to clean up; a basket by the door was filled with clothes, there was a stack of papers on the floor, and it was less of a mess in general. Still, his desk was covered with schoolwork and Camp stuff.
She opted to perch on his bed, smoothing out the blanket and scattering her supplies. Percy followed suit, flopping down next to her and rolling so he could look up at the ceiling.
The afternoon was a quiet one. Percy helped quiz her, the two of them passing flashcards and marking the ones she didn’t have quite memorized.
“Question,” Percy said, staring at the next card. “Do you remember when we kissed?”
Annabeth dropped her pencil.
“Duh,” she said, scooping up her pencil.
“Like our first kiss,” Percy said, turning the card over. “Not the— underwater one.”
Annabeth leaned back on her hands, thinking of the bubble under the lake and his hands at her waist and kissing Percy—
“Mt. Saint Helens?”
He nodded, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Did you— like me? Back then?”
Annabeth reached without thinking and carded her fingers through his hair. He looked tired; along with invincibility, the Achilles’ Heel came with a need to sleep. Great package deal, in her opinion — Annabeth never got much sleep.
He rolled his head into her lap, green eyes bright as he peered up at her. Annabeth’s mouth went dry. His expression was so open, so bright.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I mean I… I liked Luke a lot when I was younger.”
Saying it hurt, but time had been soothing to her wounds.
She shoved his head. “And then you came along, dummy.”
He rolled his head back to grin at her.
“So you did like me.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see how red her face was.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said fondly, and he sent her a winning smile. Annabeth carded her fingers through his hair again. He looked so content in the moment, afternoon light warm on his face. In another moment, his eyes had fluttered shut, and his face relaxed.
Annabeth trailed her fingers along his jaw, her touch brave, and then picked up her book, flipping to the right page.
It hadn’t been love at first sight for them, and it’d taken a long time for her to realize that she’d been in love with him. It’d been gradual, the tipping of sand in an hourglass, there in the glances they’d shared and the way her breath would catch when she saw him.
And here they were. The kiss. Racing down the hill. Percy’s head in her lap.
“If I’d known we’d make it here,” she whispered, hand settling on Percy’s shoulder. “I would’ve loved you from the start.”
You knew something had changed a week ago when your eyes met your best friend’s intense gaze after another, usual session of sensuality. It was a gaze he had never looked at you with, nor at anyone else before, not even his former lovers. A gaze that sent shivers down your spine, made your knees wobble, and which felt more intimate and intimidating than all the meaningless acts of pleasure you had done on each other for the past few weeks.
There were no feelings nor emotions except for lust and desire rushing through your veins, filling your hazed minds with nothing but the animalistic hunger for the blissful peak you were always craving like opiates. But once the heated moment faded, when your heartbeats were slowing down, you’d go separate ways, thinking not much of what just happened.
how that dinner should continue if not for that impending fight
anon prompted a candle lit dinner and this seemed fitting. also everyone is very open and honest in this fic (lookin at u alec) and no one has any reason to lie to anyone (alec take some notes) so they just enjoy a nice meal together cool ty enjoy.
(also sorry it’s been a while but i’ve been sorting out my uni timetable for next sem and it is a fuckin nightmare)
Alec picked the piece of lobster off of the fork Magnus was holding out to him with his fingers and popped it in his mouth. Magnus looked at him strangely and chuckled with a raised eyebrows. Alec quickly swallowed and looked at Magnus.“What?” he asked, apprehensively.
Magnus shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing.”
Alec raised one eyebrow and pushed his leg against Magnus’ under the table. “Hey!” he exclaimed, expecting an answer from Magnus.
Magnus sighed. “It was pointed at your mouth for a reason,” he finally replied. Alec realised what Magnus was saying and smirked. He put down his fork and shifted his body to properly face his boyfriend. He sat low in his chair and looked up at Magnus. The man rolled his eyes as Alec’s behaviour reminded him of a little child, but smiled nonetheless. He held out another piece of the lobster out to Alec and watched as he eyed it and looked back up at Magnus.
He leaned in and didn’t seem to break eye contact while eating the food off the fork. Magnus felt his stomach churn in an unexpected way as he watched Alec chew and swallow. “Happy?” asked Alec, sarcastically, as he leaned back in his chair.
Magnus let out a huff and turned back to his plate. “Shut up,” he said and Alec couldn’t help but chuckle. Magnus took a bite of his food before turning his attention back to Alec. “How was your day?” he asked in a soft voice.
Alec shrugged and sighed. The mountains of paperwork had become an almost daily thing and Alec didn’t feel like elaborating on how much he hated it. He had even tired Magnus out by now through his constant complaining. “Not fun,” he huffed and took a large gulp of his champagne. “Especially since my dad is back in town.”
Magnus looked up. “How are things with him?” he asked. Alec immediately tensed up. He didn’t know how to answer that question because truth was, he didn’t know where they stood. Instead, he just shrugged.
“It’s hard not to pick sides. I mean, he’s the reason I’m still the Head of the Institute,” he said. It made him uncomfortable how he felt weirdly thankful that his father had been the Clave envoy. He was pretty much the last person Alec would have wanted to see but he had helped him. “But he hurt my mum,” Alec continued and Magnus nodded, understanding his boyfriend’s predicament. “I thought he loved her,” said Alec, almost like an afterthought and almost in dismissal.
Magnus didn’t doubt that Robert had loved Maryse, but he understood love better than Alec. He reached out and slipped his hand into Alec’s that rested on the table between them. Magnus squeezed Alec’s fingers and sent him a reassuring smile. “My parents weren’t around for long,” said Magnus and he felt a lump growing in his throat. It surprised him just how emotional this topic still made him. “But if there’s anything they taught me, it’s that sometimes loves isn’t enough.”
Alec had his eyes trained on Magnus’ and frowned at the man’s words. His eyes shifted between Magnus’ in hopes to find something other than the immense sadness he suddenly felt himself. Alec’s grip tightened around Magnus’ and he smiled back in a way that put Alec at ease.
“It took me a while, but I’ve been able to let go a lot of the hate I initially felt for them.” Magnus reached out his other hand and curled it around the back of Alec’s neck, his thumb caressing the boy’s cheek. Alec closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Everything will be okay, yeah?”
Alec nodded, a hand going up to grip Magnus’ wrist, keeping it there. He pulled on Magnus’ hand on the table and quickly leaned forward to kiss him. Magnus responded almost immediately, leaning back in his chair as Alec pushed him further back. Alec pulled away slightly to collect his breath and Magnus looked at him with hooded eyes and an indescribable look of desire.
Alec felt his mouth run dry as he looked at Magnus and tried to soak in every bit of him possible. Magnus here and now, in this candle light, licks of orange flickering against the gold flecks in his eyes and the glitter under his eyelashes. The soft glow of the entire room was enough to warm both of their hearts but each other’s presence helped too.
Magnus swallowed hard and couldn’t help but lean in to kiss Alec again; the feeling that flowed through his body from sheer contact alone left him on a natural high. They pulled apart again after only a few seconds, grins plastered on their faces that neither could wipe away.
Alec sneaked a glance at Magnus who was now intently staring at the bubbles rising in his drink. Just as Alec looked back at his food, Magnus let out a soft laugh and Alec couldn’t help but do the same as he took a bite of the lobster.
They had been so transfixed in each other’s company that neither of them noticed Robert stop by the doorway for a few minutes before walking away with a smile yet an unsettling feeling in his chest.
i hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think! if you have any prompts or scenarios for me, please head over to my ask box.
AN* So I ran across this “Bed Sharing AU”prompt listwith 8 prompts and thought it’d be a great exercise to explore writing fanfics again. This is the 6th in a series of oneshots(links to others listed below). I’m using all 8 prompts with different members. 8 prompts, 7 members… the 8th will be a surprise.
A special thanks to BTS… for giving me inspiration and re-igniting my passion to write again. (Gif credit to original poster.)
Prompt: We’ve had this tradition as
besties to have a sleepover once a year but this year….it feels different…were
your pajamas always this cute??…did I always have butterflies???
Pairing: Kim TaeHyung x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut-lite, Food Play
Word Count: 6.2K
sat in his car outside your apartment complex, waiting for you to get
back. He’d just driven 250 miles, and
was ready to get out of the car. Tonight
was the night, or the entire weekend rather.
Finally, after having to skip it for a couple years, you were going to
have your “Bestie Pajama Party.” Well,
more like Bestie Pajama Weekend. It’s something you’d both done since
elementary school. Your parents thought
it was as cute as Tae did. Even through
high school, nothing ever got weird, and your parents really didn’t care.
It was nice…
having a girl who was just a friend… who didn’t expect anything out of him more
than friendship and fun. He got enough
of expectations from the girls he randomly saw in college. He dated here and there, but nothing was ever
serious. Nobody ever felt…quite right…
And there was definitely nobody right now… He sighed.
It was a
long weekend too… and he’d finally been able to come visit you. He hadn’t seen you since your families had
gotten together at Christmas, and it had been so nice. You’d played pranks on your older cousins,
helped the kids bake and decorate sugar cookies, and most of all… you’d just
been together. Tae had missed you… a lot.
Your insight into his dating life… your laugh… your willingness to
participate in his random wacky ideas…
He’d almost stayed over then, but your house was full of visiting
relatives. You’d sworn that the “BPP”
would happen, and you made him promise to finally come visit you.
And he had. Asking off work had been tough… but he’d made
the effort. And now here he was… worn
out and you weren’t home yet. Tae sighed
and opened the car door to step out. No
need wasting gas letting the car run when he wanted to stretch his legs
anyway. The day was beautiful…not too
warm with a smattering of clouds in the sky.
He leaned on the hood of his car and checked his phone.
message from you beyond the, *You’re
here!!! I’ll be there in a few
minutes! Yay!* he’d received about
15 minutes ago. It was odd, because your
car was definitely in the lot… He recognized it almost immediately and thought
you’d been home.
and pushed off the car’s hood. Walking
between two buildings into a small courtyard, he breathed in the smell of the flowers
planted along the sidewalk. He opened
the camera on his phone and took a picture. TaeHyung was glad you lived in a
nice place. When he found out you were
leaving the dorms last year and moving into your own place, he’d been
worried. What if it was a bad
neighborhood? What if the place was
rundown and you had maintenance issues?
But looking around at the crisp light blue siding on the buildings and
white trim around the windows, he couldn’t help but smile at how well it all
fit you. He took a few pictures of the
buildings. He was happy you were happy.
couldn’t wait to see you…
He was about
to take a selfie with the lawn ornaments when he heard tires screech to a halt. He jerked his head toward the parking lot and
heard a door slam. Walking over he saw a
bright yellow Hummer parked diagonally in the two spots next to his old silver
Camry. You were walking away from the
passenger side when the driver door opened and a blonde guy yelled your name.
“Shut it, Kyle…
I don’t need this right now. Just leave.”
You said, not noticing Tae as he watched.
seriously gonna just sleep with this guy and expect me to be ok with it!?”
answered angrily as he walked up to you.
“We’re FRIENDS and always have been… besides, it’s not like you and I
were serious or anything.”
lack of trying…” he said sarcastically.
“I thought you were a prude or something, but here you are sleeping with
a guy and expecting me to deal with it…”
You rolled your eyes and started walking away from him, but he grabbed
your wrist and pulled you against him.
“Let go of
me,” you said, twisting your arm out of his grip. “Leave. Now.
And don’t even think about calling me again. Consider your number blocked.”
“You were just a little slut the whole time, weren’t you…” he said angrily. “What, were you just being a tease til I was
man enough to take you?” The guy
actually grabbed your ass and you slapped him.
Kyle’s face darkened and he raised his hand.
Summary: A new couple moves into the house next door to you and your fiancé, Steve. And they aren’t all they seem to be.
Pairings: It’s a surprise! (hehe)
Warnings: Violence, Cursing, Drama, Implied Sexual Relations
Welcome To The Neighborhood
It was a beautiful day in suburbia. You and your fiancé, Steve, had just bought your new home outside the city. It was a lovely little neighborhood, lots of children playing and friendly neighbors. It was perfect.
It was a perfect medium for both of your jobs. Steve worked as a lawyer in the city and you had a cozy little job as high school teacher. You were both home in time for dinner and usually had the weekends to spend plenty of time together.
This particular day you both had off. You were in the kitchen chopping up fresh vegetables and preparing other items for the dinner this evening while Steve was in the backyard making sure the new grill he bought from Home Depot worked.
About a week and a half ago a newlywed couple moved into the two story house next door. Steve took it upon himself to go over and offer to have them over for dinner one night. They happily agreed, Steve was so pleased with himself he practically skipped around the house for the rest of the day.
“Steve!” You called as you began chopping the onions to cook with the chicken. “Yeah!” He peeked his head through the sliding glass door, there was smeared charcoal from the grill all over his face. “What time are they supposed to be coming over?” You giggled, wiping your hands on a dry towel. “Uh, I said around 6, so,” He looked down at the watch on his wrist. “About an hour.” “Jeez, alright. Well, everything is prepared it just needs to be cooked. So, why don’t you and I both get cleaned up? You look like a chimney sweep, hun.” You laughed. He huffed with a smile, “Probably not a bad idea.”
You were just finishing up your makeup when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” You slipped on your heels and carefully walked down the stairs and to the front door. Upon opening it you were met with the bluest eyes you had ever seen. Even bluer than Steve’s. He was strikingly handsome and she was stunningly beautiful with her red hair displayed in delicate curls.
“Hello, you must be Mrs. Rogers.” Blue eyes spoke. His voice made you weak in the knees, you thought you might fall over at any moment till Steve saved the day. “Hey, I’m so glad you both could make it!” He beamed, shaking hands with blue eyes. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, this is my fianceé, [y/n].” Steve introduced you. You quickly shook yourself from your trance and smiled, politely shaking both of their hands. “Please call me James,” James said, squeezing your hand slightly before letting it go. “And I’m Natasha,” Natasha smirked. “Please, please come in. Make yourselves at home.” You said slightly flustered. Good God he was one handsome man. Natasha was a lucky woman.
/ / / “So, what’s your line of work?” Steve asked James, before forking a hunk of chicken into his mouth. You listened with intrigue. “Well, uh, I’m an exterminator.” He answered, taking a sip of the red wine you had bought specially for the occasion. “Exterminator of what?” You asked, talking was your only way to keep your thoughts from flying out of control. James’s flicked across the table to you and you felt your legs instinctively press together. Thank God you had a killer poker face. “A variety of things. I specialize in all kinds of, vermin if you will.” He said bringing the glass to his lips again. Silence fell upon you all. Steve was happily munching away at the chicken he had grilled successfully without burning the house down. You poked your fork mindlessly into the caesar salad trying to think of something else to talk about to keep your mind off how James’ stare made you feel.
“So,” Steve started, wiping his mouth with a fresh napkin. “How long have you two been together?”
Natasha smiled as she reached a hand across to James who grinned lovingly back at her. She sighed, “We met in college. He was studying history and,” “She was an art major.” James interrupted. “The minute I saw her red hair and her green eyes I knew, I was done for.” He joked. “What about you guys? How’d a lawyer and a school teacher meet?” James asked both of you, though his eyes were once again on you.
You coughed and looked over at Steve, “Pretty similar story actually.” You said. Steve nodded, “Yep, I met her in my college English class. She was acing everything and I was falling behind. So,” Steve chuckled before finishing his sentence. “As a dumb college kid who doesn’t know how to talk to a pretty girl. I asked her to help me study, and the rest is history.”
James laughed, “Now that’s how it’s done, Steve.” Natasha shot you a look as if to say, aren’t they just ridiculous? You giggled in agreement which caught the attention of the boys. “What are you two giggling about?” Steve wondered. “Oh, nothing,” Natasha smirked. “I don’t buy that for a second, y’know, I can read Nat like a book. She’s a terrible liar.” James teased earning a light slap from her. “I am not!” She protested. “[Y/N] isn’t too good either.” Steve blabbed, “Steven!” You objected, shooting him a glare but you couldn’t help but giggle. “It’s true!” “It’s alright, [Y/N]. I bet you got the goods on him just like I do with James.” Natasha leaned over to poke your arm playfully. “And what goods are those my I ask?” James questioned her. “I don’t think you’d want our new friends to know.” She challenged. James lifted an eyebrow at her statement. “We’re all adults here, aren’t we? Besides, I know you’re bluffing.” He squinted his eyes at her. Steve scooted closer to you as you waited for Natasha’s next move. “Alright then,” She began, turning to look at you both. “James comes off as the ultimate alpha male, right?” She asked, but you were unsure if it was a rhetorical question so you refrained from answering. Better keep your thoughts in your head. “Well.” She continued to your relief. “In the bed department, he prefers I take control.” You involuntarily jerked your knee underneath the table as the image of James underneath you appeared in your mind.
“You alright?” Steve asked with concern, placing a hand on your thigh. You nodded, “Yeah, I thought something touched my leg, sorry. Please continue.” You laughed nervously. “Oh no, that’s the biggest piece of dirt I have on him. I mean imagine my surprise when I agreed to go out with him thinking he was this strong, tough man.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “If that’s dirt than I don’t care, cause I’m the only one that gets to look up at you every night.” James growled, pulling Natasha into his lap roughly. She giggled wildly as he nipped the base of her neck.
Steve placed an arm around you and you leaned into him. Steve was your fiancé you reminded yourself, you had him to look forward to seeing every night. And that wasn’t bad at all.
After more drinking and storytelling, you and Steve walked them to the door. “It was lovely meeting you.” You grinned, as Natasha pulled you in for a sweet hug. “Oh absolutely, we must do this again. I had so much fun.” She beamed. “Yes, we should make this a weekly thing.” Steve suggested, his hand falling to rest on your waist. “I hear that!” James agreed before his eyes looked to you. “It was lovely meeting you, [Y/N].” He took your hand in his and squeezed it gently, “Maybe we can bring the party to our place next time?” He offered. “Sounds good! Have a nice one!” Steve said before shutting the door. “Well, they seem like a fun bunch don’t they?” He chuckled. “Sure do.” You agreed, following Steve upstairs to the bedroom. You needed to rest.
/ / /
“Did they shut the door?” Natasha asked, her head resting on James’ shoulder as they walked hand in hand back to their house. “Yeah. We’re good.” He said and she immediately let go of him.
As they shut the door to their own house, Natasha kicked off her heels. “Did you do it?” James asked, unbuttoning his shirt. “Placed one under the dining room table and one in the kitchen when I helped her with the dishes.” She replied. “Perfect.” “You like her don’t you?” It was phrased as a question but she knew the answer already. “Stick to the mission, Tasha.” James stated defensively. “I am.” She told, “But the question is, are you?”
Ignis: “It is indeed a pleasure to have you with us once again, Commander.” Ravus: “Thank-” Cor: “-You, Ignis.” Noctis: “…Wow, that was scary. Don’t do that ever again, you two.”
Ravus: “Cor Leonis, the Immortal Shogun, correct?” Cor: “As much as I dislike that name, yes.” Ravus: “I suppose that would mean that a Loqi Tummelt and yourself were familiar? Did he ever ask you for the autograph that he desired?” Cor: “No. He was too busy trying to kill me.” Ravus: “That certainly sounds like General Tummelt, for certain…”
Cor: “There’s too many of MTs here. If we get overwhelmed, take Prince Noctis and run.” Ravus: “You speak as if you had an authority over me. I intend to stay and fight as well.” Cor: *scoffs* “You’ve got guts, Fleuret. I don’t know whether or not it’s admirable or stupid of you.”
Ignis: “Ravus, have you been collecting flowers again? Noct’s allergies have been acting up again.” Ravus: “You assume as if I have time to collect such trivial things.” Cor: “Were they cherry blossoms by chance…?” Ignis: “Yes. Why do you ask?” Cor: “…No reason. They probably belong to Ravus.” Ravus: “…I feel as though I am being set up.”
Ravus: “Did you shout ‘Lion Roar’ during our last battle, Leonis? When you struck down that Iron Giant?” Cor: “No. You were probably hearing things.”
Gladiolus: “So Cor’s the Commander of the Crownsguard, and Ravus is the Commander of the Nifs, right?” Cor: “Last time I checked, yeah.” Prompto: “Hey! That’s something you guys can bond over, right?” Ravus: “Perhaps, though I commanded far more men than Cor ever has.” Cor: “At least I have men to command still.”
Cor: “Hey, Ravus. You wouldn’t happen to have a mint on you, would you?” Ravus: “Are you assuming that I would have something like that on my person? Do you find that amusing?” Cor: “I’m not assuming. I just saw you steal half of the candies at the last restaurant we went to, so I figured you’d still have some.” Ravus: “…Touche.” *hands Cor a mint*
Gladiolus: “Yeah! Got some behemoth meat, so we’re gonna have some badass ramen tonight!” Cor: “Even after spending weeks during the trials and eating ramen, you still want to eat more?” Ravus: “And to think I am the one with a horrendous diet…”
Cor: “The trick is to having a sharp blade, but to channel your momentum into your strikes. You needn’t apply such brute force when you can make a clean slash without swinging so recklessly.” Ravus: “I see. So you favor a quicker incapacitation rather than a drawn-out duel. I suppose that is fair. If only Amicitia knew to apply such knowledge to his own combat.” Cor: “Yes, if only…” Gladiolus: “I’m standing right here, you know…”
Cor: “Never seen someone that excited about eating cake.” Ravus: “I could state the same for you, for your obsession with french toast is uncanny.” Cor: “True. The Crow’s Nest has the best there is. You should try it sometime.” Ignis: “Hmph… It isn’t anything that extravagant…”
How about Matt/Dan or trans Andriel and 27 for that writing prompt thingy?
27: “When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?” (on ao3)
Neil almost drops the stick when he sees the two lines. “Holy shit.” It was five in the morning and the city was reasonably quiet, making his realization that much louder in the acoustics of his bathroom. He couldn’t focus on any one of his thoughts, all of them flying away from him. His hand comes up to cover his mouth. “Holy shit.”
The last time Andrew had visited was maybe three weeks ago. Since then, Neil had started getting sick in the mornings and wanting more sugar in his coffee. He thought he might be sick and had voiced these concerns during one of his lunchtime excursions with Allison. She’d taken all of his concerns with ease before a shocked look came over his face.
“Do you think -” she’d started, but then shook her head. “Neil, how long has it been since your last period?”
He knew he was due sometime soon, but it was a vague notion of time. He shrugged.
“What are you implying?” he asked, his brain still processing the question. “Oh.”
“So?” Allison tapped her nails against her glass, a nervous tick that used to give her away during poker nights. “Would it be possible?”
Neil blushed, thinking of the last time he’d seen Andrew. “It’s not not-possible,” he decided, biting his lip. “But that's… That’s not something to take lightly.”
Allison shook her head. “No, it isn’t. You shouldn’t play exy until you know for sure, just in case.”
Shouldn’t play exy. Fuck, Neil knows he shouldn’t. But what did that mean?
He still owed eighty percent of his salary to the Moriyamas for the rest of his career and he’s only been playing professionally for a few years now. He still wants to play exy, to be on the court where he feels like he can do anything. He can’t do that with a baby.
And of course, the logical answer would be an abortion. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about the baby at all. But now that he thinks he might have a baby? He wants it. He wants his kid. And it’s terrifying. He doesn’t even know how Andrew would react. If he’d want to keep it too or if he’d urge Neil to get rid of it.
But here he was, holding the positive pregnancy test in his hand. His legs were shaking as he walked to the couch to sit down. Holy shit.
He started counting in French, then in German, then in Spanish, then as far as he could in his stilted Russian. It usually helped to clear his thoughts, but it wasn’t helping so much now.
He picked up his phone to call Andrew and nearly dropped the thing, his hands were shaking so badly. In the dim lighting, the bright screen started to give him a headache the second he turned it on, but he found Andrew’s number in his contacts and held the phone to his ear, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Neil.” Andrew’s voice filtered through the speaker, Neil let out a wrecked sigh when he heard it, too relieved for words just to have that sound anchoring him.
Andrew seemed to get the memo Neil wasn’t going to talk, so he just put the phone on speaker so Neil could listen to him breathing. Over where Andrew lived, he probably wasn’t even out of bed yet, but they’d gotten into this practice a long time ago. It started when Andrew had first left Palmetto State. They both needed to know the other was safe and the sound of the other’s breathing could lull them into a peaceful sleep or comfort them after a nightmare.
“‘Drew?” Neil asked shakily after some time had passed. His knees had stopped knocking into each other and he’d mostly calmed. “Can you come here?”
“I’ll be there.” Andrew hung up soon after, trying to finish getting ready as soon as possible.
Without Andrew’s voice on the phone, Neil only had his own breath and heartbeat, as well as the sounds of the street, for company. He tried to focus on only those, but it didn’t help.
Neil found his way back to his room and curled up under the many blankets he piled on top of himself, feeling King wake up from his place at the foot of Neil’s bed and move closer to his face to lie down again. He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke up to his door bursting open.
Neil quickly jumped up, and King leapt from the bed in shock.
“Neil.” Andrew said, and it was so amazing to hear him without the static from the phone. He almost collapsed back into the bed, but he propped himself up against the headboard instead.
“I called you.” He wasn’t angry, at least it didn’t sound like it. He was just stating facts.
“I’m sorry.” Neil looked down. He’d left his phone on the couch.
“Idiot.” Andrew huffed, climbing in beside Neil. “Go to sleep.”
And so he did, feeling at ease with Andrew next to him, despite his anxiousness about why exactly he’d wanted Andrew there with him.
He woke up again around twelve, with Andrew gone from his side. He walked out of the room, King at his heels, to find Andrew sitting down on the couch. Not paying too much attention, he made his way to the kitchen.
“Do you want coffee?” He asked, partially interrupted by a yawn.
“No.” Well, that was a surprise.
“Okay..?” Neil, despite his confusion, simply shrugged it off. “Guess I’ll just have a whole pot to myself then.”
“Oh?” Neil turned back to look at him. “Pray tell?”
Andrew held up the pink stick in his hands. “It’s bad for the baby.”
Neil’s eyes widened and his hands shook. “I-”
“When were you going to tell me?” Andrew got up from the couch, walking towards Neil.
“Today.” Neil bites his lip. “I found out yesterday, but I’ve suspected for a week or so.” Andrew pulls him close, letting Neil bury his head in his neck.
“What are we gonna do?” Neil asked, a breathy plea for Andrew to help.
“Do you want to keep it?” Andrew’s hazel eyes bore into him with the severity of the question.
Neil thought about it, thought about how their child might be like. Thought about Andrews’s eyes and Neil’s tan skin. Thought about an energetic nightmare playing with the cats. Thought about them growing up to be even half the man Andrew was.
“Yes.” Moriyamas be damned, he wanted to hold his kid in his arms.
“Then we’ll do that.” Andrew promised, as if it were that simple. Neil let out a strangled laugh, one that came from the desperate hollows of his throat once he thought about all that their child might have to go through.
“Yeah.” He agreed, touching his hand to his stomach. “We’ll do that.”
“Jughead, please!” Betty pleaded, racing down the stairs after him.
He was struggling to pull on his flannel over the shirt he had borrowed from Betty. “Fuck you! To think, I was going to open up to you! I should’ve known,” Jughead spat as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He tucked his pants and t-shirt under his arm.
“Jughead, I know how it sounded. I swear, I wasn’t talking about you,” Betty’s chin quivered.
“I was stupid enough to believe you once,” Jughead said quietly. He slipped on his shoes quickly.“See ya,” He said, opening the front door.
“Jughead,” Betty begged. Tears threatened to spill over. “We were talking about Archie, I swear. I promise!” Her voice cracked. “Please don’t go.”
Jughead stopped in his tracks, letting the door close towards him as he hesitated in the doorway.
“I wouldn’t talk about you that way,” Betty said quietly. “This isn’t a joke to me.”
Jughead turned slowly towards her. “Why would you say Archie’s pathetic?”
Betty chewed her lip. “He tried to ask out all three Pussycat’s one after another after Veronica turned him down. He tried to make it out like she was the one who was doing - well,” Betty sighed. “Anyway, that’s the gist of it. I’m sorry you overheard that. Please come upstairs, we can talk some more.”
Jughead wordlessly closed the door and slipped off his shoes, following Betty up the stairs.
Betty sat on her bed as Jughead lingered in the doorway.
“Do you… want to keep asking questions? Since we didn’t finish?”
Jughead laughed coldly. “Alright, sure, blondie. Tell me, why do you want to fix me so badly?” Clearly, his walls were back up.
“I don’t want to fix you, Jughead, you’re not broken. I just don’t want you to kill yourself.”
“Well, you’ve got forty-five and a half hours to change my mind. Tick-tock.” He stepped out of the doorway and crossed his legs, plopping himself on the floor.
Jughead raised an eyebrow.
“Why did you stop talking to me?”
“What are you talking about?” Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“In seventh grade. You just stopped talking to me and Kevin and Midge and you barely talked to Archie. Your Dad lost the house and you moved to the trailer park and Archie had to force you to talk to him. And when we tried to talk to you, you just - you refused.”
“I didn’t refuse, I-”
“You pushed us all away, Jughead!”
“I was twelve years old and my family was falling apart and we lost our house and moved into a trailer park. Plus, I was trying to help take care of Jellybean - it was all I could do to get up and go to school and do my homework, I - I couldn’t deal with trying to explain everything to my friends.” Jughead said angrily.
Betty nodded slowly. "Okay,“ She murmured.
“So why does the perfect girl next door want to kill herself?”
Betty blanched at his question.
“Well? You said no question off limits, right?”
“I’m not perfect. Don’t call me perfect.” Betty curled her fingers towards her palms, making tight fists.
“That’s not an answer,” Jughead murmured, staring up at the ceiling.
“My sister’s pregnant, in high school, and the father of that baby has been murdered. My dad hardly ever comes home at night anymore. I confessed my feelings to someone who didn’t feel the same way, and while that is all well and good, he is now trying to date my other best friend. I feel like I’m trying to hold my family together. Half the people I know think of me as perfect so I can’t do anything wrong.”
Betty took a deep breath. “And the other half bully me - Cheryl Blossom told me I was too fat to join cheer-leading last year, Reggie Mantle asked if I was going to join the ranks of my sister and get pregnant in high school, random people I don’t even know call our family crazy. There is so much shit going on in my head I can’t take it. I don’t even know when the last time is that I had a good day. So, no reason to stay is a good reason to go, right?”
“Won’t you miss milkshakes and french fries and sunrises?” Jughead asked sarcastically, using Betty’s reasoning against her.
“Yeah,” Betty said, her voice thick with emotion. She took another deep breath, trying to suppress the feeling that she was about to cry. “You know, for me, it’s more like this overwhelming feeling like I’m at a party where I don’t know anybody, and I’m exhausted and bored and all I want to do is go home.” A tear slipped down Betty’s face.
She flicked it away. “Anyway. My turn - what’s one thing you’ve never told anyone?”
“I’m homeless,” Jughead murmured.
“What?” Betty asked incredulously.
“Well, I was homeless. My mom left with Jellybean a year or so ago and my dad started drinking more heavily and lost his job with Fred, and eventually I got tired of his shit. So I slept at the Drive-In. But, as you know,” Jughead rolled his eyes. “The Drive-In got shut down. So I slept at school for a bit. A few weeks ago I moved back in with my dad, I didn’t have any other choice. I’ve been there since he got arrested, but who knows how long I have til they realize I’m alone…”
“I-I’m really sorry Jughead.”
“Your turn,” Betty prompted quietly.
“Same question,” Jughead murmured, finally tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to look at her.
Betty didn’t say a word, just uncurled her fists and showed Jughead what she had done.
Jughead slowly reached towards her upturned palms. He dropped his hands without touching her.
“I can relate.”
“Yeah?” Betty said quietly.
Jughead rolled his long flannel sleeve up towards his elbow. An angry looking red mark was on his forearm. Another one, less fresh but just as painful-looking marked his wrist. “When my dad gets drunk, he gets angry. He takes it out on me a lot.”
Betty touched them gently. “Jughead,” Betty breathed.
Jughead pulled his arm away.
“I’m sorry,” She murmured.
Jughead shook his head. “’S okay. There’s lots more where they came from,” He chuckled humorlessly. He stood up and pulled the t-shirt up so she could see the burns on his stomach and chest. Some were half-moon shapes, some were full circles, some big and some small.
“What are they from?”
“Cigarettes and cigars. The half circles are from when he threw them and they didn’t quite make their mark.” He let the shirt fall back in place.
“Okay,” Betty said, standing up. “Why don’t we stop the questions for a while? I could make a late dinner? Or order a pizza.”
“Pizza sounds good.”
“What do you like on your pizza?”
“Anything except pineapple.”
“I thought you ate anything?” Betty cocked an eyebrow.
“I’d eat it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I like it.” Jughead smirked.
“So what would you like on the pizza?”
“Pepperoni, green olives, onions and mushrooms is my favorite, but most people don’t like ol-”
“No mushrooms and I’m sold.” Betty smiled.
“Deal,” Jughead murmured.
Jughead took the last bite of his crust and rubbed his stomach. “That was amazing. What now?”
“I have an idea,” Betty smiled. “We both pick one of our favorite movies that we don’t think the other has ever seen. What do you think?”
Jughead nodded. “Okay. Let me think.” He crossed his legs. “Have you ever seen Murder by Death?”
Betty smirked. “No, I’ve never even heard of it.”
“That’s my pick.”
“Have you ever seen An Affair to Remember?”
Jughead smiled. “I have, I love that movie.”
“You do not,” Betty laughed.
“I do! I have a soft spot for old romantic movies.”
“Okay, what about The Notebook?”
“Oh, no, no, I said old romantic movies. Not this new wave of Nicholas Sparks rom-com bullshit.”
“So, you’ve never seen it?”
“Then that’s my pick.”
The two of them were on Betty’s bed, the only light in the room the glow from the TV. The end credits rolling for Murder by Death.
“What did you think?” Jughead asked, straightening his legs, stretching.
“It was really, really good actually. I love Alec Guinness. I didn’t really understand the end, though.” Betty admitted.
Jughead explained it, his whole face beaming.
“I’ll have to watch it again,” Betty laughed.
“We could watch it instead of The Notebook,” Jughead laughed, cocking his eyebrow.
“No way,” Betty smiled, scooting off the bed to put her well-used DVD into the machine.
By the time Allie and Noah were lying together in the street, Jughead was hooked. There was a smile playing on his lips.
Betty leaned back against her pillow, next to Jughead. Her eyelids felt heavy.
Jughead felt the warmth of her body against him, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen - as much as he was going to hate to admit it, he was really into the movie - plus, her bed was small, not much space for her to move without touching him.
As the end credits rolled, Jughead had to bite his lip to keep the tears from slipping out.
“Wow, okay, I was wrong. That was good.” Jughead stared at the screen in front of him. “What, no ‘I told you so’?” Jughead looked down at the tiny body next to him.
Betty was fast asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, even breaths making her shoulders rise and fall. She had a fistful of his shirt.
“Oh,” Jughead breathed. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked.
He carefully, slowly, reached for the remote for the TV and turned it off, leaving them in complete darkness. He rested his head gently against hers, not wanting to wake her.
His heart was hammering in his chest, making it impossible for him to fall asleep. After a moment, he felt her stir, her hand reaching out against his abdomen to pull him closer to her. Her fingers lingered on his side as her breathing returned to the rhythmic pace it had been a moment ago.
Jughead felt all the feelings he had tried to pacify for years racing back up to the surface.
Your lungs were tight. Your eyes were stinging with what seemed like an impossible amount of tears. Your heart punched at your sternum over and over again, making you gasp for air. It felt like the entire world was closing in around you. Another breathy sob escaped your lips as you dragged your body upward off you tear stained sheets.
The moment your stomach left the cushion of the mattress, you looked to your left to see Prompto, staring at you with nothing but concern in his eyes. He looked terrified. Helpless.
“Baby,” he muttered, breathlessly. “What can I do? C-can I get you anything?”
“I—“ you began, before another sob escaped out from your throat. “Prompto,” you begged, throwing yourself into his arms without a warning.
Without hesitation, the blonde headed boy wrapped his slender arms around you body, pulling you close to his lean chest.
You finally reached your limit.
You couldn’t hold it in any longer.
You had enough.
You were done pretending like everything was fine…
That was so far from the truth.
You couldn’t force a smile anymore. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself. You couldn’t keep lying to him.
You needed help.
“I’m so sorry,” you blubbered into his chest.
“It’s okay. Just let it out,” he muttered into your year. His kind hands stroked gentle at your back, slowly rocking you back and forth. “I’m here,” Prompto assured.
A tinge of guilt rose up from your stomach.
You’re supposed to be strong for him. Quit crying, your conscious began to scold you mercilessly. You’re being selfish. Get up.
“Prompto…” you sighed, forcing yourself to look at him.
You knew you looked like an utter mess.
Hair flying askew.
Eyes red and puffy.
Make up running down your cheeks.
How can he even look at you?
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
A small, familiar pout appeared on his lips. “Babe, it’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” you insisted. “I’m supposed to be strong for you.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“I— I mean—“ you stuttered, trying to find the appropriate words, but found nothing.
Without a word, he pulled you closer once again. “You don’t have to be strong for anyone. Especially me. If you need to cry… that’s okay. You can cry.”
His words of sincerity triggered more tears to fall and more sobs to fly from your lips. You gripped onto him for dear life, as if you were to let go, you fall into a void of completely and utter darkness.
Minute by minute, your sobs slowed down…
Your eyes ran dry, as if you ran out of tears.
You sat back, wiping the back of your hand under your eyelids, clearing any lingering tear drops.
A numbness overcame your sorrow. The raging pit in your stomach felt empty, rather than full of sorrow and anxiety.
Meekly, you looked up to your boyfriend, who held a small, sad smile on his precious pink lips. “You okay?”
You nodded slightly. “I feel a bit better.”
“Sometimes you just need a good cry and let everything out,” he cupped your left cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” you sighed, leaning into his sweet touch. Your hand lifted to grab hold of his wrist, returning his gesture with another careful caress.
“You need anything?”
You sniffled. “Can you… pass me a tissue?”
“Can do!” His bright voice perked up, sending a shock of comforting warmth from within you. Not wasting a single second, he hopped off the bed and scurried to your bedroom’s dresser. He whisked a few sheets of tissue from the box that laid beside your television and hurried back to you. He jumped onto the mattress, landing with a plop.
“Here,” he smiled, hanging you the tissues.
“Thank you,” you sniffled again, bringing one of the tissues to your nose to expel the snot that gathered their during your breakdown. You gripped the ruined tissue in your hand, looking back to Prompto.
After shooting you a brief smile, Prompto’s face lit up like a star in the night sky. “Can you wait here for a second? I’m gonna go grab something, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, suddenly suspicious of his sudden activity. Yet, you smiled. You almost knew for a fact he was retrieving something in efforts to cheer you up. To make you smile.
He hurried out of your room and soon after you heard you front door open and close.
You let out an exhale, letting yourself to fall backward onto your bed.
You were exhausted.
Not only emotionally, but physically. You haven’t cried that hard in years. You felt the numbness that surrounded you meld into contentment. You felt better. You needed to release that pressure. You needed to breakdown and hit the metaphorical reset button.
Prompto was right.
You don’t need to be strong for anyone. You need to do what’s best for you.
Even if that meant blowing your top every once in a while.
You giggled to yourself at the thought, only shooting upward when you heard the front door whip open again. It shut with a click and it only took seconds for Prompto to make it back inside your room, with a handful of thin flowers that only fit in the palm of his left hand.
There we obviously picked from the small “garden” that was growing just outside your apartment building.
Nothing grew there other than the simple daisy that only stood past the tiny two inch mark, but it brought a brilliant bright yellow color into your bland gray and white apartment complex’s color scheme.
Your smile spread further as Prompto held out the rather pathetic bouquet out to you. “For you, m’lady,” he bowed his head, acting as if he were a chivalrous knight. Unable to wipe the grin from your face, you accepted his favor. The moment the flowers left his grasp, he pushed himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love your smile,” he stated, his voice shooting a ray of light inside you.
you acted on assumption that he’s a vampire,” she says in a hushed voice. “If you’re right about that, which we still
can’t be sure of, it means that you removed your only form of protection
against him and put it into his hands.”
but he can’t touch it,” I reason, “so it’s no good to him.”
have it back now, right?”
course.” It comes out a little indignant,
even though I don’t mean it to.
shakes her head, returning to her book.
“That still wasn’t a very smart move.”
was in the room, it’s not like he could have attacked me.”
reads a few more lines, I see her eyes scanning back and forth, before looking
back at me with a curious twinkle in her eye.
“Did it work?”
shrug. “He took it off bare-handed, and
it didn’t look like it was burning him.”
looks thoughtful. “Have you considered
the possibility that you’ve been wrong this whole time?”
course I have,” I sigh, “but what if I’m not?
You have to admit, Penny, there’s reason for me to be suspicious.”
hasn’t retaliated yet?”
shake my head grimly, a touch of nervousness poking at my stomach. “Not so far.”
raises an eyebrow. “Keep your guard up.”
Keeping an eye out for Baz has become something of a
habit since I met him, but today I’m even more jumpy than usual, scanning the
hallways almost constantly. It’s a
little ridiculous, even for me. I wonder
if maybe he won’t fight back, if the cross really didn’t affect him, but then
again this is Baz. He’ll never pass up
an opportunity to torment me.
the time I return to our room after our last class, my stomach has worked
itself into knots. I keep telling myself
to stop it, but somehow the chance of Baz pulling something feels more imminent
now that we have a… what even is this? A
game? An agreement? A series of mutually bad decisions? A commitment to hate each other even more?
beaten me to the room of course, which makes me even more anxious. He doesn’t look up from his phone as I kick
off my shoes, casting a wary glance around the room. Nothing seems out of place, but that doesn’t
mean he hasn’t cursed something again like he did with my plate. When I move over toward the bathroom, my
steps are light and slow.
wrong, Snow?” Baz pipes up, still staring down at his phone.
I bluster, unable to come up with anything smarter on short notice.
why are you acting like there’s a monster under your bed?”
the only monster I see is on yours.”
eyes cut up to mine briefly, flashing annoyance, but he doesn’t respond beyond
that. I notice suddenly how tense my
shoulders are and I give them a roll to loosen them. I need to relax. Quietly I take a deep breath and make for the
wouldn’t go in there, if I were you.”
hand freezes on the doorknob. “Why not?”
turn to glare at him. “What did you do?”
actually looking at me now, his face cool and innocent. “Who says I did anything?”
isn’t funny, Baz.”
right,” he nods, “it’s not, and neither was the salted tea or assuming I’m a
shrugs. “Go ahead then, see what
happens. Or maybe I’m bluffing and
there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
glare back for another moment, trying to read his expression, but his eyes
don’t betray anything. Slowly I turn the
knob and push the door open a crack, peeking in cautiously.
am I looking for here?” I mutter. There
doesn’t seem to be anything amiss, no rats in the sink, no roaches in the
toilet, no spiders in the shower. My
reflection in the mirror is unaltered.
tell me,” Baz muses in response.
shut the door again. “You are bluffing,
meets my eye evenly. “You tell me,” he
go of the doorknob and fold my arms across my chest.
least that’s what I try to do.
that my hand is now welded to the knob.
the-” I stutter as I try to pry my arm away, my skin smarting as bits of it rip
off of the knob. “Are you serious?”
stands, reaching into his pocket as he moves toward me. A smirk sneaks into the corner of his mouth,
and from his pocket he produces a tiny bottle of glue. Extremely strong Normal glue, the kind people
use to hold broken furniture together.
as I’m registering what he’s done, he leans closer than I think I’ve ever been
to him, his breath dusting my ear and sending a prickle across my neck.
move,” he murmurs, pocketing the glue and striding to the door. I don’t follow, I can’t. “See you at dinner,” he chuckles, halfway
through the door, “assuming you make it down there.” And then he’s gone.
A few days later Steve was sitting next to you putting his shoes. He was getting ready to take you to the doctor’s office. You didn’t want to go, but you knew it was essential. It was a simple follow up appointment, and you hoped for good news: news that you might possibly be able to do some things on your own.
“Can you hand me my other shoe?” You pointed, your hands brushing Steve’s chest. Your fingers felt electric and you sighed softly, wanting more. The past few days, he’d kissed your forehead every night before bed and every morning when you woke up. But as far as what was spoken between you, everything was still strictly platonic.
Synopsis:Your best friend drags you into attending a masquerade ball with her, only to abandon you in the middle of the strange dance. Standing alone in the midst of a flurry of people, the events that play out here change the course of your life; only to leave you wondering; who is under the mask?
(A/N: Ah, I’m not entirely sure how this came out, feedback would be much appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy though!)
“I should’ve known.”
Those three words echoed through your head all night, leaving you restless as you relentlessly tossed from side to side trying to work out the meaning behind the cryptic phrase. What was it she wasn’t telling you? She knew something. Something important, and yet she was keeping it from you.
Forcing yourself up in the morning, you pushed your disheveled hair out of your tired eyes, groaning as the realisation that you had to attend university that day, and resume normal life as if nothing had happened. As if your best friend wasn’t dead. As if you weren’t bitten by a strange man who you were starting to believe - as insane as it sounded to you - could well be a vampire of some sort, like something straight out of Twilight. You still struggled to wrap your head around the idea, your mind not able to comprehend the concept of mythical creatures such as vampires. You sat up in your bed, staring directly at the wall as you thought over everything. Subconsciously tilting your head to the side in thought, you wondered, if that man was truly a vampire, would the bite take effect on you too? Sighing, you shook your head as you finally climbed out of bed, the thought sounding ridiculous to you, and yet strangely true.
“(Y/N)!” You heard your mother calling from the other room. “You need to go to uni today, honey!” Her tone sounded fairly enthusiastic, but with an undertone of fatigue, like she had been up all night as well.
In as lively a tone as you could muster, you called back, “Yeah, I know, mum, I’m getting up.” Your hand involuntarily flew up to touch the fading bite mark once again, like you found yourself doing often, your fingers running over the small indents in your skin. “How am I just supposed to act like nothing happened?” You pondered, your head still clouded in total confusion. If you were ever going to be able to focus on anything, you had to find answers to the questions that kept you up all night. You had to find out everything.
Yoongi stared into the mirror, his fingers brushing over the pale skin of his face. All he could think about for the past few days was the girl with the red mask, as he glanced over his bedside table at that very mask. Your scent was intoxicating, addicting even, as a strange feeling stirred in his chest. You filled his thoughts constantly, as he found his mind wandering off, thinking about how your hair tumbled down your shoulders effortlessly, the way a few strands of your hair fell into your face. The way your soft eyes widened at the sight of him. You were no ordinary human, that he was sure of. At first glance, he thought you were one of their kind, although your skin only had a slight tinge of paleness compared to the marble-like skin of every other vampire he had seen. So, when he saw a blush rising up to your cheeks, a feeling of confusion clouded his mind. Since when did vampires blush? Were you a human then? But that couldn’t be it either.
That room was not supposed to be visible to humans. He often resided in that room during the extravagant balls, often preferring peace and quiet over the loud music and the murmur of voices in the ballroom. So… what exactly were you?
“Hyung!” Yoongi heard a familiar voice from outside his room, turning around, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance, only to see Jimin pop his head through the doorway, eyes twinkling as his plump lips curled up in a mischievous smile. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? You know how your dad is with your education.”
Of course he knew. It was his father who insisted he attend university and “do something useful with your life”, in his father’s own words. His father seemed to think that the only valid profession was a doctor or a engineer, or something “respectable” like that, and so Yoongi was relentlessly pushed into it against his own accord, and had no choice but to accept. It had been a few months since the first year had started, and he had only just began adjusting to the heavy workload and the concept of socialising with others.
“What about you?” Yoongi inquired, looking Jimin up and down. His outfit was a contrast to his embroidered tuxedo from a couple nights before, instead wearing a simple baggy white T-shirt with a pair of black shorts and a black beanie to match. Pulling his backpack off his shoulder and setting it down on the floor, the smile never once left Jimin’s face, as he replied, “You know everyone’s ready right? We’re all waiting on you.” Playfully punching Yoongi’s shoulder, he said, “Hurry up, grandpa, we haven’t got all day.” With that, Jimin proceeded to sling his backpack over his shoulder, casually walking out in typical Jimin fashion once again.
“This boy.” Yoongi shook his head, one corner of his lips twitching slightly as he tried to repress a smile. Looking back over at the mask one last time, he sighed, throwing his wardrobe door open, as he finally began to get ready for yet another gruelling day of university.
Staring out of the window of your mother’s small car, you self-consciously readjusted the turtleneck you were wearing, constantly worrying that someone would somehow see the bite mark. That wasn’t going to be easy to explain, to say the least. Looking down at the lit screen of your phone, you felt a pang of pain, like something had just stabbed your heart when you saw the ever-so-familiar picture of Mina and you. You didn’t have the heart to change it, instead serving as a reminder not to go to strange places. You realised that your day was likely to be much quieter without Mina’s constant chatter to accompany you. At least, that’s what you thought.
Finally pulling up by the fields surrounding your university, your mother turned to face you, a sympathetic smile etched on her face. “You’ll be okay, right?” She asked, her tone softening with concern for you.
Forcing a smile, you replied with as much enthusiasm as you could muster, “I’ll be fine, honestly. No big deal…” It felt you were trying to convince yourself rather than your mother, but she seemed satisfied with your answer, her eyes looking over you once more before you grabbed your backpack, slowly slinging it over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car.
Forcing your feet to move forward, you trudged towards the huge building, taking a deep breath before you stepped into the building, your head beginning to thump once again as students pushed and barged past you, causing you to have to force yourself through the stampede of people to reach the hall your lecture was being held in.
After finally escaping the crowd in one piece, you leaned against the wall by the door to the hall, patting your hair down so that you looked at least decent. Tilting your head slightly towards the door, you noticed a group of boys walking past, your curiosity piquing as a feeling of familiarity stirred in your chest. One of the guys pushed the door wide open with a shove, brushing his jet-black hair out of his eyes. Another of them, blonde haired this time, flashed a quick smile at you, the rectangular shape of his smile seeming strangely familiar, as he walked inside with the other remaining boys. Maybe they did the same course as you, you pondered, your mind recalling how you’d spotted them in previous lectures before. That must be it, you decided, and yet there was still a strange feeling nudging at the back of your mind.
Taking your seat in the large lecture hall, you set your bag down on the adjacent seat, tapping your pen on the hard surface of the desk. You noticed your bag being set down on the floor, however, and so your eyes trailed up to meet those of none other than your best friend, Mina. Your mind failed to comprehend the situation, that your best friend, who you thought was dead - you were certain you saw her seemingly dead with her own eyes - was standing there in front of you, her eyes twinkling in her usual mischievous manner. Something was different though, as you squinted your eyes in disbelief, your eyes scanning over her over and over again, as if to check if she really was there in front of you. As you looked over her for what seemed like the tenth time, you realised what was up. Her skin was almost the same marble-like colour of those people you had come across, the sparkle in her eyes just like the one you’d seen in the other mysterious men, that sparkle that left you immobilised, unable to take your eyes off.
“Mina?” You finally uttered, your body completely frozen in disbelief. “How… what… how?”
“Aw, did you miss me?” She winked, a shiver running up your spine as you still tried to wrap your head around the situation.
Your best friend was alive. And she was one of them.
It’s the middle of the night — 4 a.m. to be exact, Alison glances at the clock next to her bed - laying down once again, eyes wide open as she becomes aware of her current situation.
Her breathing’s ragged, and the sheets feel way too heavy and constricting. She strips them of her body in less than a second — hissing when they brush against her sensitive and swollen breasts. She cannot believe this is her life right now.
Putting behind the homicidal maniac that is still out there right now, being impregnated with her friend’s eggs, having to deal with those (still very) confusing feelings for that friend, and now having to practically live with that friend — this is way worse.
Fuck, she hates that word; always has (it reminds her of all those neanderthal boys in high school — it repulses her, and it’s no different now) but that’s the only word she can use to describe the state of desperation, want, and frustration she is experiencing right now.
She presses her legs together, biting back a whimper as the ache between her legs is momentarily relieved.
She’s aching. It makes her mad.
Goddamn hormones, she curses as she runs her hand through her now protruding belly, that just seems to grow bigger everyday. Probably because of Emily’s —
“Emily…” she whispers to herself, pausing as her mind starts racing.
Emily, who’s sleeping down the hall right now, (because they don’t actually sleep together, at least not every night. Only when one of them has a nightmare, or when they pass out during an episode of Cupcake Wars, or on those regular occasions where they get takeout and Alison’s room seems too far away when she’s already half asleep on Emily’s bed, with her head on the brunette’s chest as she gets her hair played with). Emily, who told her to consider keeping the baby, and Alison did it because it’s Emily, and it’s been so long since she’s been able to deny her anything, (and maybe because the idea of having a little brunette with big doe eyes running around fills her up with longing, but with so much happiness too. And maybe, just maybe, because she gets to keep Emily because of this; and even though she knows it’s wrong, she can’t help it).
And safe, Emily always makes her feel safe.
Especially with that lean toned body of hers. ‘Ooh! And her arms,’ Alison thinks as she licks her lips, ‘all muscley from all those swimming years’. Obviously, Alison’s aware Emily doesn’t have the exact same physique she had when she was 16 but she’s in good conditions. That much Alison knows. She carries like 8 more bags than Alison carries, when they get home after groceries. Emily mows the lawn — and that might be Alison’s new favorite thing to do on sunny days, because Emily wears practically nothing and she always gets really sweaty and hot and —
If it wasn’t enough confirmation for Alison to know how attracted she is to Emily Fields, she is certainly aware by the sudden and greater warmth between her legs.
It’s too hard to ignore now, she’s sure.
All of her being is just begging her to walk that 8 feet distance to Emily’s room; her body’s just aching for it because she hasn’t been able to erase what had happened almost a decade ago; the feeling of Emily’s warm skin on her, the brunette’s soft lips, her teasing tongue and the way she had whimpered when Alison had ran her nails through her back and —
“Fuck,” Alison groans, finally relenting and moving her hand to the waistband on her underwear, until she gives up on the thought instantly; her head falling back onto the pillow.
She wants Emily.
She wants her, Alison thinks as she rubs her eyes in frustration.
“You know what,” she says to herself as she sprints out of bed barefoot, “this is her problem too,” she mutters, marching decidedly to Emily’s room.
When she gets there, Alison opens the door in a blink, grateful that it didn’t wake up the brunette — because how exactly is she supposed to explain this current dilema — and stops dead on her track at the view.
Emily’s on her back; her worn out t-shirt riding up just a couple of inches short from her breasts to be exposed, and all Alison wants to do is touch and wow she hadn’t realized how close she was until she realizes she’s sitting by the edge of the bed and her hand is just an inch from the brunette’s tantalizing skin.
She touches, softly. Just a feather-like touch. Careful not to awake her. And then, she thinks, 'Maybe I don’t even have to humiliate myself to Emily.’
Maybe she’ll be good with just touching and taking in the brunette’s presence and then going back to her room, Alison thinks.
Yeah, that’ll work.
So Alison touches.
She runs her hands through Emily’s smooth legs - loving specially how the brunette hums contently when Alison reaches her thighs - and yeah, legs might be a dangerous territory. So she runs her hands up and down her toned arms, and her stomach - reveling on the taut muscles that flex when her hands go too high and she remembers how Emily’s always been ticklish in her belly so she stops that too, (also because Emily’s chest has always been a weakness of hers and she is not about to let Emily catch her fondling her while she sleeps, and— Oh, god. How creepy would that be).
Now aware of what the hell she was actually doing, Alison carefully stands up for her spot in Emily’s mattress and tip toes to the door.
It’s not when she hears a distinct, “Ali?,” coming from behind that she stops dead in her tracks.
This cannot be happening.
Hey, honestly I’m kinda high rn and this was not meant to be to serious but if u guys like it and shit then yeah cool. (I might have written another part to it ?) Also idk send me shit to write about maybe ?
Also I haven’t watched the show since like season 5 so like sorry if it’s not accurate enough to what’s going on rn. I tried.
Despite the weight of keeping his secret now being much lighter on his shoulders, it still sat heavy, crushing him a bit every time they failed the simulator test with Iverson. He heard it in the whispers of students in the halls, in Iverson’s clenched jaw as he was berated for crashing yet again.
He was failing. He was losing his chance to be anything, losing his chance to make his dream come true. All his life he had only dreamed of being a fighter pilot, and this thing, this– This disability was ruining his chances.
The voices hit his ears before he could block them out, drowning him and making him want to curl inward on himself. Hunk accepted it and hid it, Hunk supported him, but what good was that? Hunk couldn’t make him a better pilot. Hunk couldn’t improve his skills. Hunk couldn’t let him see color. He was stuck like this.
“Did you hear? McClain’s group failed the simulator again.” The voice he heard was unfamiliar and stung like a slap in the face. “For real?” Came another voice, though it didn’t sound much surprised. “That’s like, what, the sixth time this month? He should just give up, go back to being cargo class. Maybe then he’d actually make himself useful.”
When it comes to words, children can be cruel. Teenagers are much crueler. Their words are always laced with a venom that courses through their victim’s body and paralyzes them. It prevents them from saying anything in response, clamps their jaw shut, and forces them to just listen. Their words ache with a truth and tear the victim apart limb from limb.
Lance never much liked teenagers. Hearing these comments only made him hate them more.
‘It’s okay, Lance.’ A voice comforted in the back of his mind, quiet and soothing. It had an air of familiarity to it, and yet he couldn’t quite place it. ‘You’ll be okay. You’ll push through it.’
That afternoon, he cried to himself until all he could let out were dry sobs, voice shaking and rough. His throat hurt from wailing into a pillow, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He needed this, needed to release his emotions, so he then cried until Hunk returned from classes.
When Hunk had pushed the door open, he saw the state Lance was in and immediately took him into his arms, feeling the way his smaller friend trembled. He held him close, nosing into his mussed up hair to calm him, whispering words of encouragement that only Lance could hear.
“It’s okay,” He whispered. “You’re alright. I’m here now. You’re okay.”
Lance buried his face into Hunk’s shoulder for what felt like the millionth time, taking deep breaths to calm himself while his friend comforted him quietly. It took a few minutes but eventually, he was just sniffling a bit, wiping at his red-rimmed, tear stained eyes.
“Now, Lance… Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Hunk questioned, looking down at him with a tilt of his head while Lance wiped at his runny nose and tried to dry his face off. He hated being seen this way, so weak, but it was better Hunk than anyone else.
“I’m a defective… Defective pilot… The one thing I want to do I can’t! I suck!” He sobs into his shirt, fingers gripping at the fabric while Hunk just rubbed his back in slow, gentle circles.
“You’re not defective, buddy. You’re special. The fact that you can even fly is amazing, you know that?”
Lance knew Hunk was trying to help, but his chest only ached with his words, shaking his head. “No, I just,” He sighs. “Can we just sit like this for a while?” Hunk kept his gaze trained on Lance for a moment before breaking into a grin.
“Orrrrrr we could go out… Sneak out like you always want to.” He replies with a grin, shaking Lance’s shoulder a bit and patting his back.
He always seemed to know exactly how to cheer his friend up.
When Hunk had said go out, he hadn’t thought they’d be staying on property. He had expected to go out to the nearby town and maybe flirt with a few people, not go up to the roof and meet Pidge.
At the same time, he didn’t mind it. Pidge seemed cool enough, and any chance for Lance to make friends was a welcome time. So he happily snuck around the halls with Hunk, listening intently as voices and footsteps softened once officers moved past them. Anxiety often filled him every time they got close, but he pushed it away in favor of reassuring Hunk.
Once they finally reached the roof, Lance took a moment to take in the black and white night scenery laid out ahead of him, rock formations and all. The wind whipped past him for a few moments before settling into a gentle breeze, bringing with it a dry heat and the scent of sand.
Tiptoeing past Hunk, Lance snuck up behind Pidge, using his light weight to keep his steps silent. His slender fingers carefully lifted up one headphone, a smirk on his face. “Hey there. Whatcha doin’?”
A startled screeching sound erupted from the small boy in front of him as they looked up at him, eyes wide and chest heaving from the shock. “Holy shit Lance! Don’t scare me like that!” He shouts, one hand on his chest.
Hands raised in defense Lance plopped down next to him and hummed for a moment as he looked over Pidge’s computer screen, rubbing his chin. “What’s all this? Looks like gibberish to me… And this definitely isn’t Garrison tech.”
Pidge gave him a look like what he had said was completely obvious and he should have noticed earlier, making Lance huff a bit as the short boy replied. “Well yeah, I built it.”
“You built it?” Lance splutters incredulously, watching Hunk sneaking closer before reaching out to touch the computer. As soon as his fingers came within inches of the side of the screen, Pidge reaches over and smacks his hand away with a glare.
“No touching. Yeah, I did. For.. Looking at stars. Yeah, stars.” He waves a hand around for added effect, but Lance isn’t convinced in the least. With all the experience from handling his siblings and their awful lying, he can see right through Pidge’s.
Instead of saying anything though, he merely gave the small technician a brow raise and the neutral face of disappointment before Pidge gave it up, turning back to his laptop with a heavy sigh.
“Alright, alright. It’s a computer I made to listen to alien chatter. They keep saying one word, over and over. Voltron. And tonight it’s going crazier than ever.” He explains, pointing to the word in his notebook. He must have been going to say something else because his mouth was hanging open, ready, but he was interrupted by Lance.
“Um, what is that?” The Cuban asks in slight disbelief as he points to something blazing white across the sky, moving closer at an alarming rate. Hunk looked as if he was going to hurl, face contorted into a look of nervousness as he waved a hand around.
Watching the others moving closer to the edge of the roof, binoculars in Pidge’s hand, he spoke up to try and distract them from it. “Maybe it’s just a comet or meteor! A really fast… Really big… Meteor.”
“That’s no meteor,” Lance shot back after taking a glance through the binoculars and watching as a ship hurled through the sky, seemingly pilotless. “That’s a ship. And it’s not one of ours.”
As he handed the little gadget over to Pidge a loud crash was heard as the alien ship made contact with the hard desert earth, smoke pouring into the sky as flames lit on the purple metal surface.
Sharing a look with his two friends and teammates, a grin slowly spread on his face before he began to dash down the stairs that lead up to the roof, closely followed by Pidge and Hunk. “Come on, slowpokes! Let’s go check it out!”
Let’s just say that what they found in the spaceship is not what any of the Garrison trio were expecting.
Instead of finding a terrifying alien lifeform or a cryptid, they found Takashi Shirogane, the pilot of the Kerberos mission. Now they were sitting in Keith’s desert shack, talking about something the dumb mullethead had found in the desert after getting kicked out.
It was a lot to process and Lance was barely paying attention as he shook his hero’s hand and half-listened to the conversation around him. He gazed around the black and white room for a while before his eyes fell onto Keith, his partial rival.
His eyes scanned his face quietly, taking in the pale gray features and the dark eyes that stared at Hunk as he talked about someone’s diary. Long lashes and a slightly endearing mullet adorned his face. Whatever color his jacket was… definitely went with his face though. And his eyes.
Maybe Keith wasn’t as bad as he remembered him.
Snapping his own eyes away when he saw Keith move, he instead watched him snatch something out of his best friend’s hands and hold it up to his Cryptid Board.
“They match.” Pidge breathed next to him, soft in their stunned silence.
“Then that’s where we need to go and look for this foreign element.” Shiro decided, being the voice of reason as always. “We’ll go in the morning, it’s too dark to go now. Someone might get hurt.”
And so they slept, preparing themselves for whatever they may find.