#I’ll even forget my scarf at your sisters house and you don’t have to return it

[randomficsandshit]

it’s hot girl summer rn which means I’m busy being hot but

when the weather cools down, does someone wanna fall in love with me and break up nov 18?

#I’ll even forget my scarf at your sisters house and you don’t have to return it #I need to experience red to its full potential please #it literally comes out a few months before I turn 22 so that’s perfectly iconic in itself #but the rest of the album means I need more pain #accepting applications #red tv #taylor swift #red (taylor’s version) #not a fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #birch #series #sequel #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #looking for a place to happen #biker au #biker!au #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #avengers #tfatws #falcon #biker boys of birch

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 24

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: i took three weeks to post, i am very sorry but i’ll now be posting the holiday chapters i was supposed to but i got lost in eating mince pies. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - Bucky, what are you doing? - Y/N smirked as she returned from set, still dressed in a scandalous dress covered by a beige rain coat. Small droplets of water covered the beige waterproof fabric which rolled onto the ground as she made her way further into the small flat. 

Bucky was sat in bed, looking at a pile of clothing thrown next to an open old military green rucksack by his feet. A few worn out brown leathered tags we attached to one of the handles and had she been wearing her glasses, she could’ve probably guessed what it was written on them. The brown haired man rose his head at the mention of his name, eyes widening at what she was wearing. He was used to seeing her in tight, revealing dresses but this dress was something else and he wondered how she could walk with such a skin tight garment. 

    - I’m just deciding what to pack. - he shrugged, trying to forget about the dress his girlfriend was wearing. 

   - Just pack warm. - she sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, an immediate smile extending in her limps. - Mum said it might snow. Can you imagine, a white Christmas?

   - Did they give you a bad time on set?

A bad time? A bad time was an understatement. She had gotten an earful from everyone who passed by her that day from her manager to her personal assistant to even Mr. Hayworth who just screamed about how stupid she was. Even half the cast was upset, not enjoying the publicity it would bring to the movie and while she would normally end up crying in her trailer, Chuck ensured to follow her around to make sure she was alright. Yet, none of it matter. It was the last day of shooting before she got to go home to her parents and forget about the mess she had willingly created. It was only a day before she could spend the holidays with someone who chose her and kept choosing her for the first time. It really didn’t matter if she had a bad time, things were starting to look up for her. 

    - Other than the stripper dress? Not as bad. - she giggled. Bucky looked at her, trying to peak through the coat. - I was thinking ... maybe we should have a nice long bath together? I’ll light some candles, get some nice wine from the shop down the street.

    - You little vixen, I still have to go see my sister. If I take a bath with you I will end up staying much more time than I should. - Bucky kissed the side of her face. - Did you wear that dress just to tempt me?

    - I would never. It is not my fault you cannot control yourself. 

    - That dress is staying until I come back, though.

    - I want to come. - she got up from the bed, pulling the dress from her body and grabbing her white jumper and pair of jeans from the wardrobe. - You’re meeting my family, it’s only fair I meet yours.

    - I’ve told you already, princess. We don’t wanna poke the media, they’ll bite us back with no mercy. I don’t want people hurting you because of me.

    - You can’t sneak me into a care home? My, my, Mr. Barnes, I thought you could get anyone into anywhere. Your CV said so.

   - Are you doubting my abilities, princess? - he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closing to him before starting to tickle her sides. - It’ll be boring to you, my princess. Just stay here, put back that tight little dress and I’ll make it worth your time.

   - No way. I’m meeting your sister. 

   - No baby pictures, Y/N. 

   - I would never. - she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard felt yet soft kiss. - Only childhood stories. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, handing her the jacket and hat as they made their way onto a taxi. Bucky visited his sister a lot but he’d never mentioned Y/N. Not that he didn’t want to, of course he did. In all honesty, he could speak about his girl for as long as someone allowed him. However, Y/N was still a public personality and he wouldn’t want to let something out that she wasn’t comfortable with people knowing. Besides, he knew how much his sister still adored to gossip and he wouldn’t want to possibly hurt Y/N or be the cause. 

She, on the other hand, was excited. She knew Steve and Steve was the oldest of Bucky’s friends but she never thought she would get to meet someone from his family or that he’d even want to introduce her to someone from his family. After all, he was a war hero and Y/N was an actress from a small town in London who everyone seemed to despise at the moment.

The man drove them up to small complex building of what seemed to be newly built flats. Bucky was the first one off the taxi, running up to her side so he could open the door. It always left her feeling like a school girl; the pageantry, it is. She never believed she would find someone and the fact someone rushed to go and open the door for her and held his hand out.

    - Anything you’d like to confess before I ask your sister? - Y/N teased, hugging him side eyes as he led her to the entrance.

    - Do not believe what she says, I did not date too many girls.

    - Steve disagrees with that.

    - How would you know what Steve agrees or disagrees with? 

    - I called him to wish him happy holidays.

    - I didn’t know you and Steve were friendly.

    - Don’t be jealous, love. I’m not stealing your best friend. - Y/N pinched his cheek playfully as the two of them stopped in front of a wooden door with the number 35 in gold numbers pinned to it.

Bucky knocked on the door, announcing himself before holding Y/N once again close to him. He went through his mind, wondering if there was anything Rebecca could tell which would upset her. Sure, he used to be a bit of a womaniser in his youth but Y/N knew that. He hadn’t gotten anyone pregnant, he hadn’t proposed and ran off, he was off the hook. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Becca telling Y/N about his past quests.

Y/N waited patiently until someone held the door. The first thing she noticed were her eyes, the same as Bucky’s and she could recognise them anywhere. The woman had perfectly styled grey hair and a smile on her lips as she recognised her brother.

    - Who is this lovely girl, Buck? You didn’t tell me you’d bring company, I would’ve gotten some biscuits. 

   - This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend. 

   - Steve told me you were seeing someone, I just didn’t think she’d be this pretty. Come in, come in. - Becca grabbed Y/N away from Bucky leading her to the living room. - What you wanted is in the bedroom, Buck.

   - Behave. - Bucky told his sister before he went into the bedroom to look for what he had come in from. 

   - I have some photos I think you’d love to see, darlin’. - she pointed the couch for Y/N to sit in before waddling to the big mahogany bookcase. She had a huge collection of books from old classics to new contemporary masterpieces which Y/N would love to read someday. The house itself was cozy, way more comfortable than other care homes she’d seen but she guessed Bucky would’ve only allowed for the best for his little sister. - It’s been ages since I’ve seen one of Bucky’s girlfriends. Not that he used to bring them home, but I used to sneak in and take a peak. You’re definitely the prettiest of all of them. 

   - Thank you. - Y/N couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up.

   - Ah, there it is. - she dropped a photo album on Y/N’s lap. - My father gave my mother a photo camera and she went crazy with it. Too many photos. However, when Bucky was born, it was a special occasion. Dad used to say she wanted a professional photo taken with her Jamie. 

She pointed at a photo of an woman probably in her early 20s holding a baby wrapped in several blankets, accompanied by a man who Bucky resembled very much. Her fingers traced the face of the baby, a little smile forming on her lips. It was nice to see him like that, normal. No mentions of the Winter Soldier, no pain, none of her constant drama due to her profession.

   - He was the eldest of four and despite what my mother would say, he was always the favourite. The only boy. He got away with whatever he wanted.

   - Bucky has three siblings?

   - Three sisters. Some of them didn’t survive. It was war. - her voice softened with sadness as she turned the page for a photo that Y/N wasn’t expecting to see. The same woman from before, his mother, was hugging a shirtless Bucky who had some boxing gloves on. Her face contorted into curiosity as Bucky exited the room and leaned against the couch, standing next to the two women.

  - What are you two ladies looking at? - Bucky kissed Y/N’s head, putting his hand on her shoulder. 

  - I think Y/N is very curious about your welterweight boxing past.

  - You did boxing?

  - Princess, I was a three-time YMCA Welterweight boxing champion. - Bucky closed the album before any of the photos of him with some of the ladies he used to hang around with showed up. - Becca, we should get going. We have an early flight tomorrow. 

  - You need to bring her more often. - Rebecca got up from the couch to accompany them to the door. - Did you find what you were looking for?

  - Yes, Beccs. Thank you so much for keeping it all these years.

  - Pretty sure mum would come back to haunt me if I hadn’t. Have fun meeting the parents. - she kissed Bucky’s cheek allowing for the two of them to leave. Bucky immediately wrapped his chunky knitted scarf, something his grandma had knitted for him ages ago, around Y/N’s neck, pulling her to his side.

He couldn’t truly remember a time where he was this happy, so full of need to continue living. She really brought him to this sort of weird normality where his past didn’t seem to affect him or at least not as strongly as it usually did. The two walked into grey skies, it was probably going to rain but none of them cared, walking side by side like those couples on Christmas songs. 

   - A boxing champion? 

   - Knock it off, princess. - Bucky helped her into the taxi, telling the driver his address before fastening his seat belt. - It was a long time ago.

   - Do you miss her? - she questioned, leaning her head against his shoulder, watching the horizons run through in blurs. - Your mother. Rebecca said you were the favourite.

   - Rebecca is always saying that. - he scoffed. - I do miss her. She was a swell lady, always caring about us, not complaining whenever she had to travel around because of my father. She was the best mother someone could’ve asked for. She would’ve liked you.

   - You think so?

   - I know so. Dad would’ve liked you too so would aunt Ida. Of course there’s still my nephews and nieces and their kids, but they don’t really want to speak with me ... - she didn’t need to ask why, she could see it in his eyes why and it made her sad. It made her sad to think of his family not wanting to be with him, specially during the holidays. - But I’ve had Rebecca and Steve for all these years. They’re my family and now I have you.

    - Well, I can’t promise my family will like you but they’ll definitely found the fact I have a boyfriend amusing. 

   - You mean to tell me I don’t have any ex boyfriends I’ll have to fight once we get to London?

   - That’s just unfair, Bucky. You’re a three-time boxing champion. 

   - You’ll never let that one go will you?

   - Nope. Dating a three-time boxing champion is a new identity I can get used to. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir​

#sebastian stan #bucky #sebastian stan/reader #bucky/reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky au #bucky fanfic #bodyguard bucky au #bodyguard!bucky #bucky barnes

[authorialarcanist]

It Seems I'll Never Understand (Kagerou Project)

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Pairing(s): Tateyama Ayano x Kisaragi Shintaro

Summary: "...Hey, Shintaro. Why'd you do it? I mean... You could have stayed out of it. It wasn't your fight."

In a world where Shintaro Kisaragi was the one who killed himself on that fateful august day two years prior, Ayano isn't sure what she can do with her life. Living in fear of the Snake of Clearing Eyes, all she can do is think back on the past, and wonder - why it was that her best friend took her place when she's sure he must have hated her, and when was it that it all went wrong.

Shinaya roleswap with a focus on making it work with as few changes to canon as possible.

---

It’s late - late enough that it’s gotten truly dark out. I’m walking along the road to my home, a boy next to me. The bridge we’re crossing seems to stretch out endlessly into the distance, illuminated only by the moon and the street-lamps we’re passing by.

I fiddle with my scarf absentmindedly as I steal a glance at his face. I’m so glad… I was finally able to become friends with him. Or, well… maybe ‘friends’ isn’t the right word just yet. To him, I’m sure I’m still just that stupid girl who made him tutor her for hours after class.

Still… I tell myself that this is the most important first step. Mm-hm. Now that I’ve introduced myself, I’m sure that we’ll be friends - real friends - in no time at all.

“You really saved my life! I never would’ve been able to finish that problem set on my own.” I grin weakly as my babbling inevitably turns to self-deprecation. Ah, well… after my terrible performance back there, trying to act cool for my new friend was a lost cause already. Well, if this was a manga, at least this might be the part where the aloof genius breaks character to reassure me that I can do it?

“Even with my help, it took you way too long…” He sighs. “Geez. I only came here to get my wallet, too. I must be really unlucky.”

—Yeah, right. I’ve only known this guy for a few hours now, but it’s pretty obvious that tender support isn’t his strong suit.

“I really am sorry…” I shrink a little under his criticism. “But! I promise, I won’t forget about today!”

“What are you saying? Didn’t you just say you forget things no matter how much you study?” Ow… I guess I did say that, but… he really has no faith in me at all, huh?

But he just doesn’t get it! Not quite panicking, I redouble my efforts to explain myself. “Today’s special! I’m going to try extra hard not to forget, so it’ll be okay!”

He hums in contemplation and stares away into the distance. And then—

—“Liar.”

I recoil from the sudden accusation. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve broken your promise already, haven’t you? You can’t even remember my name.”

He picks up his pace, and though I try to follow, I can’t seem to move forward.

“Huh? Of course I can!”

“Really? Then why haven’t you said it?”

“Why are you so focused on that all of a sudden?”

“Say it, Ayano.”

“Stop it!”

“Say my name.”

“I— You’re—“ Tears spill from my eyes. I’m trying to say it. Why — why is this happening? Why couldn’t we just keep walking together, chatting about nothing important, like friends do?

“…Yeah. I thought so.” He stops walking, and for some reason, I freeze as well. I have no choice but to watch his back as he speaks. “I guess it’s not your fault, though. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “But… Try to remember, okay?”

He turns to face me again.

His eyes are red.

“If you can’t remember soon, then—“

——

Knock. Knock. Knock. Three hesitant raps on my door.

The sound wakes me from my dream. Already, it’s growing too hazy to remember. All I can say for certain is that hewas there.

He’s always there in my dreams. Maybe it’s some cruel balance for the fact that he’ll never be there again in real life.

“Ayano?”

At the sound of the voice calling for me, I turn over in my bed and bury my face in my pillow, trying not to make any sound to indicate that I’m awake.

“Ayano, please, I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.”

I don’t respond. My father is dead. That’s the best way to think of it. The safest way to think of it. Even when the snake lets him out, it’s only in the hopes of getting me to snap.

“Ayano, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best father to you, since your mother died. But please, I just want to know what happened. What happened to Shuuya and Tsubomi and Kousuke. Why you won’t talk to me. Ayano, please.”

My hands clench against the pillow. I force myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

“Ayano…”

In.

Out.

“…Just… think about it, okay? I’m here, if you’re ever ready to talk. Even if you need another two years, I’ll still be here.”

A lie. Dad won’t be here. Just the snake.

“…I love you.”

I stay silent, waiting until the sound of footsteps fades from my hearing. No matter how many times I go through this, it never gets any easier. But… I can’t talk to him.

Even if the snake wasn’t privy to his every thought, I can’t bring myself to speak with the man who sold my world.

“…Is… he gone?” A tinny voice whispers from my computer’s speaker.

I listen for a moment. When nothing happens, I nod. “Yeah.”

My computer monitor lights up as it exits sleep mode, and a girl in blue peeks out from her hiding place behind a browser window. “…I still don’t understand why you don’t leave here, Ayano-chan…”

I shake my head. “I… I just can’t. I’m sorry, Ene.” Ene… that’s what this girl calls herself. About a year ago, she popped out of an email and decided to stick around. She tried to put on this sassy, hyper front at first, but it fell apart pretty quickly.

I’m pretty sure I know who she really is, after all. And she knows I know. I just haven’t been cruel enough to push the topic.

It’s not like she has much of anywhere else to go, after all.

“…Okay. I get it.” She looks down at the taskbar and pokes her index fingers together. “Just… hang in there, okay, Ayano-chan? Do your best.”

“Like my best has ever mattered,” I mumble, and sit down at my computer chair. To be honest, my activities since dropping out of school two years ago have been nothing, nothing, and a heaping dessert of nothing. It’s not like I have any sort of online life to speak of, even. It’s just that… ultimately, there’s nothing else to do when I’m living under the same roof as my father. I can’t risk going outside at the wrong time and having to face him. At least he respects the boundaries of my room; and the snake finds it convenient to leave me a sanctuary under his supervision for as long as he doesn’t have any need of me.

“…So, um… Ayano-chan?” Ene glances up at me, a little shyly. “Can I ask about whether…”

Ah. That. I shake my head. “…I’m sorry. I’ve tried talking to him while my father was away, but Konoha really doesn’t seem to remember anything about us.” Konoha… the white-haired boy the Clearing Eyes took in really is just another reminder of my failures. Still, I know that’s not hisfault, and I can’t really blame Ene for being too scared to check up on him herself. Talking to him hurts badly enough for me, and I still hadn’t been quite as close to Haruka as she was. Honestly though, whenever I’d felt safe enough to slip out and check on him, Konoha had seemed pretty nonresponsive. Forget remembering me and Ene; he didn’t seem to remember anything, not even basic things like rain.

“I see…” Ene droops. This happens every time she brings up Konoha; as much as she’s tried to be around for me, I don’t have the first idea how to comfort her when this topic comes up.

Well, honestly, I don’t think I’m in a place to be comforting much of anyone. Back when I tried all those years ago, it only ended in pain.

In the end, I go with the tried and true method of pretending I didn’t see anything. When there’s nothing you can do, acknowledging the problem only ends in more tears, after all. I pass the day mindlessly browsing the web and making more paper cranes for the army that chokes every available surface in my room. Occasionally, I can’t help but fantasize about what things might be like if I had Paper-Animating Eyes. Sending an army of little origami birds to get revenge on the Clearing Eyes… it’d definitely be a more efficient way of getting a wish granted.

Ah well.

At least my father has work during the day and the snake has better things to do than waste time in this lonely house during the nighttime, so I’m able to check on Konoha and grab something from the kitchen for lunch on most days. That’s particularly important, because dinner can be much more spotty, depending on whether my father is in a “bury his problems in work” mood or a “try desperately to be present to make up for selling his soul to an evil snake” one. Well, okay, I really don’t know how much he’s able to retain about what the Clearing Eyes does when in control of his body, but if he really is oblivious about everything that might actually be worse.

Unfortunately he seems to be in a “try to atone” cycle right now, so I’m running off of a single meal when the knocks return once again.

“Ayano.”

Ene hides behind the browser window again, and I click off of the tab showing a video of a mongoose taking down a snake.

…What? Look, I have to deal with the spite somehow.

“I know you’re in there.”

I stay silent.

“I’ve got another mission for you, Ayano. You know the deal by now.”

I freeze. This isn’t dad.

“I trust I don’t need to spell it out for you?”

It’s the other one.

“I’m waiting.Or is this some pathetic attempt at rebellion? If so, I have to applaud. It’s the most pointless one yet.”

I finally find my voice. “I-I understand.”

“Heh. Good.” The snake chuckles. “Two children are coming to stay in this house soon. Your father’s sister-in-law, and some hanger-on. When they’re here, you’re going to be the model of a big sister, understand? Get them to trust you, and then make sure they’re in a certain place on August fifteenth.”

I shrink in on myself. Children? Please, no…

“I said, understand?You know what’ll happen to your family if you refuse…”

“N-no!” I shoot to my feet in panic. “No… I understand…”

“Good.” What should be my father’s voice drips with malice. “See? Wasn’t that easy? Goodbye, Ayano.” Saying the last two words in an odd sing-song voice, the snake leaves. I collapse back into my chair, hugging myself.

“A-ayano-chan…” Ene peeks back out from her hiding spot.

I turn to her with wide eyes.

“Ayano-chan, you don’t have to do this. Please, we can fight back. I’ll help you.”

…If only. But no, I know it’s hopeless.

I can’t fight the snake. All I can do is delay the inevitable.

I shake my head, and start disconnecting the speakers from my computer. If Ene tried to do something brave, and the Clearing Eyes found out…

“…Ayano, please…”

I pull the plug on my monitor. Ene may still have access to the inside of my computer, but the most she’ll be able to do in the house is open and close the CD drive.

“…sorry…” I whisper quietly to myself, even though I know she can’t hear me.

God, how did things turn out this way?

——

I have many precious memories, moments I’ve spent these past two years trying desperately not to forget. Reading storybooks at bedtime with my mom. Meeting my little siblings for the first time. The way my dad’s face used to look when he’d play with us, long before everything happened.

If you were to look through those treasured days, flipping from one to another as though they were files secreted away in a lockbox, one might still stand out from the rest. Perhaps it’s laminated, or hidden behind a false back. Not because it’s more precious than the others - I wouldn’t trade my family for anything - but because it’s unique nonetheless. A moment elevated in its rarity, and in the pain it brings me - not the dull ache of my mom’s face, nor the stabbing betrayal of my father’s failures and mine, but a gaping void of ‘what if’s.

The first time I ever got to see Shintaro smile.

It was during our second year of middle school, a couple months after the day I finally introduced myself. The last test I’d gotten back had been my lowest score yet, and with exams rushing to meet me, I was honestly in a panic.

But then, Shintaro’d spoken up. For the very first time, he gave me a totally unprompted offer to help me study.

“Thank you so much,” I’d sobbed. “I don’t know what I was gonna do…”

“Ugh, don’t be annoying about it!” He’d refused to meet my eyes as he grumbled. “I just know that if you failed your exams I’d somehow get dragged into helping you catch back up. It’s just easier to get this over with this early, alright?”

Whatever his stated reasons, I still felt like I’d been saved when he stuck around to help me pound the latest lessons into my skull. And I don’t know if we finished faster than usual, if something good had happened to him at home, or if his guard was just down that day for some other reason, but one way or another, he decided to stick around and chat for a bit afterwards.

I can still picture it clearly. That sunny classroom, me perched on my desk to bask in the light from the window, him leaning his chair back as we killed time… and the glint of light that drew my eye to the spine of a book just peeking out of his bag.

“Hm? Hey, Shintaro?”

“What?” He glanced lazily back at me.

I tilted my head to read what I could from the spine. It rung a bell; I’d overheard some of the other girls in our class talking about it from time to time. “Isn’t that ‘Let’s Fall In Love’?”

“HUH?” I winced at the sudden crash as Shintaro lost his balance and fell in a heap.

“Ah! Are you okay? I’m sorry!” I rushed to help him up, but he just scrambled back until he was pressed against the wall.

“W-w-w-what are you talking about? I-I don’t, I mean, that’s not—“ Shintaro grabbed suddenly for his bag, but his hand missed its mark and sent the contents spilling out as it toppled over instead. The book landed face up, its cover proudly displaying a drawing of a boy and a girl standing together in a very shoujo-esque artstyle. Emblazoned above the picture was ‘Let’s Fall in Love ~ by Yumeno Sakiko.’

“Umm…”

“I mean! It’s Momo’s! Yeah! My little sister wouldn’t stop pestering me, so I picked up her copy for her, uh-huh! I definitely don’t read shoujo manga!” His stuttering picked up pace as he scrambled for excuses, and I couldn’t help it - some part of me kinda wanted to watch him squirm for a little longer.

So, I grinned slyly and searched my memory of my classmates’ conversations. “Uh-huh? You know, with how Mamiko and Oze were talking in the latest chapter, don’t you think there might be a chance they’ll—“

“THAT’S HERESY!” Shintaro slammed his hands down on the ground, and I winced at the sudden spike in volume. “Mamiko and Suzuki are meantto be together!” He clenched his fist and held it to his chest. “I can’t imagine how anyone would think otherwise after that moment in volume 7! And anyways, Oze and Waka may be having a fight right now, but everyone… knows…” He trailed off as my control failed me and I started to giggle. “…Fine. You caught me. Happy now?”

At the sight of him forcing down a pout and struggling to regain a serious expression, I laughed even harder.

“…So I like shoujo manga. Is it really that funny to you?”

“No, no! I’m sorry!” I did my best to get myself under control. “It’s not that, honestly. You just looked so earnest, and then you kept trying to hide it… If reading that sort of thing makes you happy, then I think that’s a goodthing! It’s actually kinda c—“ I suddenly realized what I was about to say, and blushed heavily. “—I mean, it’s kinda cool! Yeah! You shouldn’t worry what other people will think about your interests, you know?” Oh yeah, that was an absolutely stellarsave, Ayano. Absolutely nobody was gonna suspect that you almost called your classmate ‘cute’ without thinking. Aside from, I dunno, people with eyes.

Thankfully, all of that intelligence must have come out of Shintaro’s perceptiveness instead, because he let it pass without comment. “So…” Shintaro seemed to be looking anywhere in the room other than my face, which might have helped the whole ‘not noticing my face doing a bonfire impression’ thing. “Do… you also read it, then?”

“Huh?”

“Y, you know! ‘Let’s Fall in Love’!”

“A, ah! Right!” I snapped out of my thoughts. Right, let’s just pretend that slip never happened for now, and I can unpack whatever the heck it meant on my own time, when I won’t make my one school friend think I’m even more of a weirdo than he already does. “Ehehe… Not really, actually.” I scratched the back of my head and grinned sheepishly. “I was just parroting something I overheard. I’m more into the shounen stuff, you know? Hot-blooded super sentai fighting to save the world, and all that.”

“Really? But they’re so formulaic. You can see everything coming from a mile away. And how do those guys get through posing dressed like that and not die of embarrassment?”

Well, I couldn’t just sit there and take that. “What? Hold on a moment, like your mushy stuff is any better! Aren’t they all just ‘boy meets girl, cue nothing happening for the rest of their school lives’?”

“Wh— they are not!There’s nuanceand relationship growth and everything!” Woah. Shintaro was looking about the most fired up I’d ever seen him! At that thought, an idea clicked in my head.

“Hmm… Alright, then!” I grinned at him and gave a sharply enunciated chuckle, heh-heh-heh. “Why don’t you tell me more about this series, and if you manage to change my mind I’ll give reading it a try? And then, in return, you’ll watch an episode of Engine Sentai Go-Onger with me, and we’ll see how you feel about heroes after that!”

Shintaro rose to the challenge. “Fine! Come on then, I’ll teach you about why Yumeno-sensei is a master! I mean, her portrayal of Mamiko’s inner struggles alone touches the heart, even for a boy like me! There’s this moment in chapter 12 when she…” He lit up as he talked, gesturing wildly with the plot points. I’m a little ashamed to say that I actually stopped paying attention after a few moments, because my focus suddenly seemed drawn to his face. He was grinning - actually grinning, the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in, well, ever- as he opened up about his interest.

I can only remember thinking two things as we walked home that day.

The first was, ‘What a pretty smile.’

The second was, ‘…oh. Crap.’

…So, yeah. It looked like I maybe had a teeny little crush. That was okay! It was fine! It meant I was finally starting to grow up, right? Anyways, whatever Shintaro’s romance manga said, I was pretty sure that people were supposed to get a lot of those with time. They didn’t have to mean anything, or, y’know, gamble their only real non-family friendships on the chance that someone who was really smart and cute would still want to hang out with a dumb girl they barely tolerated helping out if she asked.

Not a problem! I’d just go about my life as normal, and it’d fade in time. Eventually, I’d probably look back on this day and laugh.

…And if in the meantime, I wanted to see him smiling like that again? Well, that could be my little secret.

——

Of course, let nobody accuse me of being a good planner. Obviously, the darn thing only seemed to get stronger with time. Wanting to see Shintaro smile because I wanted him to be happy slowly morphed into wanting to be the reasonhe was smiling like that. Hoping that maybe, if I could be the one to make this lonely boy smile, that’d mean I was actually worth somethingreally the hero I pretended to be.

Mom died, and I had to be the strength for the whole family as dad seemed like half his world had gone missing, but no matter how much I needed comfort of my own, I wasn’t ready to tell him.

We met Takane and Haruka, and one friend turned into three, but even though I’d only be gambling 33% instead of 100, I was still too scared to tell him.

And then I found out that dad had changed, what the thing in his body had planned for Haruka and Takane and my siblings, and suddenly my stupid little feelings didn’t seem so important. I had to research the read eyes, and I needed Shuuya to cover for me, and in the end I didn’t have the attention to spare for my friend my crush my…

…for Shintaro. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice our growing distant. Why I didn’t notice things growing strained.

Why I didn’t notice that I really was just burdening him with my own expectations.

Didn’t notice until a hill at sunset, a hand snatched away, his back receding into the distance while I stood alone.

After that, I wondered about a lot of things. How much had been genuine, and how much really had just been putting up with me. How much of my motives had been pure, and how much had been that dark little thrill of seeing him down and feeling like I was still needed.

How cruel it must have been, to plan what I was planning and still try to hold onto his hand until the last minute.

So I didn’t try again. I delegated as much school time as I could to Shuuya (and carefully didn’t wonder why his face was growing more stressed, why his own time seemed to draw thin.) I withdrew further, and dedicated everything I had to my lonely mission. August fifteenth came all too soon at last, and I shoved my responsibilities onto Takane, told her to be honest with her feelings even as I swore that my own were better ignored. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, the colour of a hero, I steeled myself and turned to mount the stairs, and I was interrupted.

“Shuuya? What are you doing?” My little brother had arrived in front of me, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

“N, neechan, please!” Panting, Shuuya raised his eyes to meet mine. They glistened with tears. “You have to— you have to stop Shintaro-kun! He’s about to do something really stupid!”

“Huh?” I was taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s already gone to the roof! I couldn’t do anything! Neechan, please!”

“The roof?” I still didn’t understand, but I burst into a run anyways, leaving my brother behind. Why was Shintaro even here today, when he didn’t need summer school? Why did Shuuya know about it? What could he be doing on the roof, other than…?

He wasn’t involved. God, please, he wasn’t involved, why was he here?

I took the steps two at a time, ignoring the pain shooting through my lungs, and had no choice but to stop for breath and lean against the wall for a moment when I finally reached the door leading outside.

My father’s voice filtered in from outside. No - not my father. The thingwearing his skin. “Honestly, kid.” He sounded mildly exasperated, like my dad did whenever a student had turned in a particularly baffling answer on a quiz. “You think that you’re gonna be the big damn hero? You really think there’s a single thing you can do here to beat me?”

“No.” Shintaro, this time. “Honestly, it’s a stupid plan. Totally useless in every way. But hey.” A dark chuckle. “Objectively speaking, the life of a rotten boy like me is just worthless enough to make it worth trying.”

I’d finally caught my breath, but at that it caught in my throat. Did he mean—

I burst through the door, screaming, “Shintaro, NO!” The roof was empty except for two people. My father, standing on solid ground looking mildly vexed. And Shintaro, clad in that red jersey I’d said I liked, the color of a hero, sitting perched half-on the fence around the edge of the roof and half dangling over open air.

His eyes met mine, and no matter how hard I try I know I’ll never forget the way his face clouded over, the way his eyes darkened, or the words he said to me at that moment.

“…Oh.

“Ayano.

“The very last person I wanted to see.”

His final curse delivered, he leaned back. The world distorted around him, horrible discordant red tearing open fangs in the sky.

And he fell.

I must have screamed, but it’s a blur. I just know that by the time I came to, I’d fallen on my knees, and the thing that took my father was laughing.

Laughing.

“Ha! You kids never fail to surprise me, you know that? I never once would have expected that depressing little thing to get up off his ass and do something like this!” He paused. “Well okay, I guess I would, but the part where he tried to stand up to me was still new.”

Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d jumped to my feet and was tackling him. “SHUT UP!”

“Whoops!” Somehow, my father’s body stepped out of the way before I could react. I found myself impacting concrete and rolling on the roof, scrapes all over my body where I’d fallen. “Come on, brat. You’re a big girl now, you should be used to hearing swear words by now. Or wait, are you angry about the boy?”

With a wordless scream, I threw myself at him again, but this time he casually stuck out a leg and tripped me.

“You might still have time to save him, you know. Throw yourself off the roof after him, and maybe you could convince him to come on out and bring me that snake he stole.” He sneered. “Of course, it’d mean making this whole little sacrifice play all for nothing. And this guy” he tapped the side of my father’s head, “might even willingly help me kill the brat if you did! Oh, now thatdespair would be delicious to see.”

I swallowed the pain as my fists clenched, scraped raw though they were. “…Shut up. You… you’re just trying to convince me because you know your plan’s finished. You can’t gather the snakes now. There’s no… no more reason to kill Takane and Haruka, or the others.”

*snrk.* The monster covered his mouth with a hand.

“What’s supposed to be so funny?”

“Ha! Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just… you think this kid managed to save your friends? Please.” He rolled his eyes. “He was too late. They’re already dead.” He shrugged and continued in a sing-song voice. “And anyways, the boy was a goner already. You should be thankingme; this way, at least he has a chanceof living for another year or two.”

“W…what…?” I slumped, the fight draining from my veins. No. It couldn’t be. Takane and Haruka… they were gone, too?

My “father” walked up to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. To anyone watching, it might have just looked like a father comforting his daughter; but I could feel his fingers dig into my flesh in a vice grip. “Still, working this all back out from the top is going to be a pain. And that’s not even counting all of the cleanup I have to do! It’s one thing for those other two kids; I’d made preparations for them. But spinning the sudden disappearance of this brat, too? No, that’s far too much work.” He crouched down until he was level with me, a too-wide smile on his face. A shiver ran down my spine. “So, Ayano.I’m going to have you do me a little favor, alright? And before you consider trying to do something brave, consider just who it is that has your family’s life in his hands, hmm? Don’t say anything; just nod.” I nodded, stricken. Everything I’d planned had come to nothing in a few short minutes. “You’re going to find Shuuya for me, and you’re going to have him go make himself look like this guy -“ he waved vaguely at the empty edge of the roof - “’s body for me. A suicide should be easy enough to explain away. Especially when the victim was as gloomy-looking as this asshole here. Honestly, people’re gonna think it was a miracle he lasted as long as he did.” My fists clenched again at relentless slander, but there was nothing I could do. I was totally and utterly defeated. “You got it, Ayano? Do this, and I’ll let the people you care about live a little longer.” He chuckled. “…Well, what’s left of them, at least. Hahahaha!”

How could I have ever thought I could be a hero? All I’d managed to do was arrive too late to save either of the snake’s intended victims, and drag a bystander to his death in the process.

In the end, tears streaming down my face, all I could do was nod.

——

“Neechan!” Shuuya rushed up to me the minute I exited the school. He grabbed my hands - I didn’t resist - and gasped at the scrapes all over them. “What happened to you? Where’s Shintaro-kun?”

“Shintaro— He’s—“ My voice caught.

“Nee…chan…?” I could see the exact moment Shuuya caught on. His eyes widened and his face fell, all in one motion. “Dammit! And just when the guy starts to convince me he’s not all bad, he has to go and do something like this…” His hands tightened involuntarily around mine, but I couldn’t even find the energy to wince.

I spoke in a flat voice, forcing myself to put one word in front of the next. “Shuuya. There’s something very important I need you to do.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“You need to use your power to turn into Shintaro. Let somebody discover ‘his’ body, so there’ll be a record. If you don’t, then… then he’ll…” My voice caught again, but I forced myself to continue before Shuuya could ask any questions. “And then there’s one more thing you need to do. I need you to take Tsubomi and Kousuke, and go away. Go somewhere far away from here, and don’t— don’t tell me anything about where you’re going. You can’t contact me at all, okay? I can’t have any way to find out more about you.”

“W—what?”

“It’s the only way that you’re going to be safe. I… we can’t stop the Clearing Eyes. He can have you all killed in a moment.”

Shuuya must have been able to see the seriousness in my eyes, because he didn’t try to debate the point. “Okay, but… Why can’t you come with us? We can all run, that’ll be safer!”

I just shook my head. “…No. He… he’ll find me, somehow. He knew how to respond to everything that I tried. Anything I do… no matter what, I’m sure he’ll…” I hugged myself and started slowly walking towards the path home. It was clear to me now. I was nothing more than a puppet dancing on the Clearing Eyes’ strings.

“W-wait, Neechan! Come back!”

“Goodbye, Shuuya. Please don’t forget to do what I told you. Consider it… My final request as your sister.”

“NEECHAN!”

——

“…Hey, Shintaro. Why’d you do it?”

I lie on my back, staring at the empty ceiling as I talk to the air.

“I mean… You could have stayed out of it. It wasn’t your fight.”

The cranes crowding every surface above me seem to swirl and distort, like a heat haze.

My head keeps playing his final moments on repeat. Even as the happy days grow dimmer and dimmer, I can’t seem to forget his last words no matter how hard I try.

‘The very last person I wanted to see.’

“If… if you hated me so much, why didn’t you just let me be the one to jump? Why take my place?”

I wonder… if I’d been the one to jump that day, would he have been able to do what I couldn’t? I indulge in a brief fantasy of Shintaro, red jacket flapping behind him, standing tall with my siblings as they face down the Clearing Eyes together.

…Somehow, I just can’t see it. Sorry, Shintaro.

‘The life of a rotten boy like me is worthless’

“…Did you hate yourselfthat much? Were you so sick of life that you grabbed the first excuse you could find?”

…Maybe. But… somehow, as much as he tried to shut the world out, I can’t help but see Shintaro as someone who was brimming with life underneath it all. At the very least, whenever he talked about his sister, he didn’t seem like he’d want to leave her.

The thought of Momo-chan makes me wince. Another memory, this time of her crying and screaming at me when I’d tried to comfort her.

When I’d broken down and sobbed that it was all my fault.

I can’t blame her for hating me. To be honest, I wonder if it wasn’t what I was secretly hoping for.

Just another case where Ayano’s self-satisfaction came before actually doing her job.

My alarm clock rings. I’d set it instead of my phone, to make sure Ene couldn’t try and be a hero. (I can’t help but hope that she’s given up on me, and found her way to somebody who’ll be a better friend.) It means that the children…

…my victims…

…should be arriving soon.

I push myself to my feet. In the end, even blaming myself is just pointless self-satisfaction. I’ve made the choice to play this role; I made the decision that these two children were worth less than the family I know and care about.

It doesn’t take too long to get myself presentable. I choose an outfit that looks like its owner hasn’t been in hiding for the last two years, and glance at my scarf, hanging wrinkled and dusty on a hook.

My hands shake.

And I turn away without touching it. I don’t deserve to wear that color.

Not when red is the color of blood.

“Sorry, Shintaro. Guess you made the wrong trade, in the end. Even a genius like you makes mistakes, huh?”

With that snide remark, I turn my back on his sacrifice and walk out into the house.

…Still, a thought flits across my mind.

—Ah, I would have liked to see that smile, just one more time.

The doorbell rings. It’s time.

I hide my feelings behind a smile, painting it from ear to ear.

And I open the front door.

#kagerou project #tateyama ayano #kisaragi shintaro #fanfiction #shinaya #suicide cw #angst #i promise future fics for this series will be happier once i'm ready to write them #happy kagepro day!

[the-broken-truth]

When Eliza Dimitrescu & Diedre Beneviento Meet In The Village

Broken Truth: Welcome to the 1st Official Headcanon of the 4 Protective Young Lords - This one is about Eliza and Diedre meeting in the village for some cousin things.

Enjoy, @snowflakestree

Eliza (Closing her cloak with her house crest brooch clip to make sure it says closed before she turned to face her sisters): I'm going to visit Lady Beneviento's Daughter in the village, do any of you need-

Daniela (Comes running into the room with a long blue scarf): Wait, Little Sister! Don't forget to wear this long cloth thingy!

[Eliza just stands there was Daniela wraps the scarf around her neck over her shoulders and around her neck.]

Eliza (Points at the scarf as she looks at Daniela):...Big Sister Daniela, you do know that I can handle the cold with my cloak alone, yes?

Daniela: But still! You have to keep extra warm to make sure you don't get sick, even if you can handle the cold!

Cassandra: That's right, Eliza. Be a good little sister and listen to your big sisters!

Bela (Calmer than her other sisters): I agree with them, you should wear that scarf, Eliza.

Eliza (Exhales): Very well, sisters; I shall wear the scarf. Thank you all for caring for me... (Looked off to the side in hopes to hide the blush creeping on her face)

Cassandra (Floats over to Eliza and moves her face to face the others): Haha! Girls, would you look at her face?! She's blushing and embarrassed! Isn't that adorable?!

[Eliza tries to hide her blush by nuzzling into her scarf.]

Daniela (Chuckling): Oops, I think we broke her, sisters!

Bela (Exhales and gives herself a facepalm): Daniela. Cassandra. Stop embarrassing our little sister.

Alcina (Walks into the room with a small pouch in her hand): Now, now, daughters. Please do not make my youngest melt into the floor.

[Alcina walks over to Eliza just as Cassandra removes herself from her baby sister's form and handed the small pouch into her hand.]

Eliza (Looks at the pouch in confusion): What is this, Mother?

Alcina: Surely you don't think I would let you go into the village without a bit of spending money, do you?

Eliza (Looks into the pouch): Mother...there is over 2000 Lei in this bag.

Alcina (Pats Eliza's head): Most certainly. Please, do tell your cousin that I said hello.

[Eliza gives her mother and sisters a light bow before she opened the castle door and went on her way to the village to meet up with Diedre Beneviento.]

[In the Village - Eliza walked down the rocky frozen path that led into the village as her green eyes narrowed at all of the stupid man-things that lazed around or reeked of booze; this made her nose scrunch up.]

Eliza (Thinking): 'Disgusting Man-Things. Do not touch my sisters. Do not touch my mother. I'll turn in their flesh wine if they so much as utter disrespect the name of House Dimitrescu.'

[Just as she stopped in the center of the village - she heard a familiar voice call out to her. She turned to see her younger female cousin - Diedre Beneviento - running in her direction with...wait...]

Eliza (Thinking): 'Isn't that Aunt Donna's Veil and...Angie?'

Diedre (Reaching Eliza with Angie and Donna's Veil in her hands): Good Morning, cousin! I'm glad you came to meet me.

Eliza: A Dimitrescu always keeps her word, Diedre. Speaking of which, why do you have your mother's veil and Angie?

Diedre (Smiling widely as she lifts the veil in front of her cousin's face): My Mother's been crying because of horrible things the villagers have been saying about her, I haven't heard it before. I'm going to wear Mother's veil and pretend to be her! (Places the veil over her head and places Angie in her arms just as her mother does) Now, let's see what she's been going through after all this time.

[The 2 Heiresses began walking around the village to make the purchases Diedre told Eliza about before the masquerade began - all the time, the moment someone's eyes rested on the veiled woman horrible rants were being thrown at her.

Random Woman (1): Go back to your forest, witch!

Random Man (1): That veil doesn't hide how ugly you are, freak!

Random Woman (2): Take your creepy ass and your fucked-up doll back the shadows so we don't have to see your asses!

Angie: Who do you think you're calling 'creepy'?! Donna is an absolutely stunning woman, are you blind or something?!

Random Man (2): She's a disgusting freak that doesn't deserve to live! The sooner she dies, the better it will be for us all, the same with that tall bitch in the castle and that moronic freak from the reservoir!

Eliza (Death Glares at Random Man 2): What the hell did you say about my mother, you disgusting man-thing?

Diedre: I think I've heard enough...(Pulls the veil from her head and looks at the confused people with black dead eyes) I've heard all of the negative things about my mother and I shall not accept this! Meaning: Every last one of you has forfeited your life and rights and privilege to live...Now...(Lifts her right hand - everyone watches in horror as long red strings come from the tips of her fingers) It's time for a show!

[Diedre thrust her hand forward and the strings shot out fasters that arrows from their bow and nailed all 4 of the rude villagers in the centers of their necks, making them gasp and fall to their knees as their air began very thin.]

Diedre (Places Angie on her shoulder before she released the strings from her other hand): Now...which of my new puppets should I make an example of.

Eliza (Walks slowly to Random Man 2): One moment, cousin. Let me have this one. He had the nerve to disrespect the Dragon of Dimitrescu and that shall not be allowed.

Diedre (Smirks): As you wish, dear cousin.

[The string from the man's neck was removed and he felt his control return but before he could move, a horrible pain ripped through his chest from his back forward before he was lifted off the ground and to his feet felt something grasp his heart.]

Eliza (Leans near the man's ear): A rat...shall not disrespect the dragon.

*RIP*

[The man's eyes widened and rolled to the back of his head before he fell to the ground with a large gaping hole in his back.]

Eliza (Looks at the heart in her hand before she takes a bite out of the muscle as if it were fruit before spitting it out and dropping it back on the dead bottom.]

Eliza (Takes a cloth out of her pocket and wiped her mouth): That was completely disgusting! Way too bitter. There's no way in hell I would use his blood in my mother's wine.

Diedre (Pouts): Oh, I'm sorry he wasn't to your taste, Eliza. Now (Looks at the other captives) I think I know which puppet to break in.

[Diedre's other hand reached out to Random Woman 2 - causing the strings to connect to the top of her head, the back of her hands, and the back of her calves. The woman's eyes widened as she was lifted off the ground and the others watched in horror but were unable to speak.]

Diedre (Smiles up at the strung-up woman with a sickening smile before looking at the two on the ground before lifting them to their feet by their necks): Now, pay close attention, little mice. (Looks at the strung-up woman again.) First, let's fix that arm for having the nerve to point at me.

[The strings attached to her arms began to turn, twisting her arms until the joints stopped them but the strings forced them...and broke them completely. The woman screamed and the others shivered but Diedre didn't stop - next were her legs, shattering the knees to keep her from walking. The woman screamed again before she was dropped to the ground, leaving her alive but broken...)

Diedre (Looked down at the other two before glaring at them): That was an example - never mess with the Puppeteer's Mother...or I shall break every last one of your bones.

[With that, she released her binds - the moment their control returned to their bodies, they gathered their broken friend and got the hell out of there.]

Eliza (Looks at Diedre): Well done, Diedre.

Diedre (Smiles): Anytime, now, let's get going back to our shopping.

[The two cousins smile and walk back into the village, leaving the dead man-thing in the streets; not even staying to watch a crow flying down and picked up the bitten heart and flying away.]

Broken Truth: Next Time - When Sebastian Moreau and Kaleb Heisenberg meet in the village.

#resident evil 8 #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #eliza dimitrescu (OC) #diedre beneviento (OC) #alcina dimitrescu #The Young Lords #The Four Protective Children of the Lords

[thefanficmonster]

Death’s Tales

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None (Maybe slight spoilers and slight mentions of death)

Genre: Dark Theme, slight Angst

Summary: This isn’t Y/N’s first visit to the Curator’s repository. She’s visited two times so far and deep down she knows she’ll keep coming back. Stories have a way of trapping you in the place where they live. But then again, it’s nice to have some good company for when you are introduced to those stories. Someone to laugh with during all the humorous parts. And also someone to offer you tissues when you are going through the thick of the lives written on the pages of the many books.

Requested by Anon! Hi there! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, though I hope the fic makes up for the wait. I hope I captured what you had in mind. Please, enjoy. Love, Vy ❤❤❤

“Hello? You here?!“ Y/N calls out as she walks into familiar room. She immediately gets the feeling that she’s in the presence of a more intense power than she could explain - the power of all the timeless stories currently surrounding her. This is by no means her first tango with the deathless death turned into words written on thin, delicate pages for people to enjoy. She has always had an odd connection to each and every story she reads, so this place was the ultimate trap when she first wandered in, expectations low and head held high. She underestimated the repository, however, it didn’t take long for it to turn the tables on her with all it has to offer. In less than an hour, she had her nose buried in a book, her expectations exceeded by miles and her mind transported to a different place and time.

“Where else would I be?” The distinct voice she’s gotten so used to hearing replies from somewhere near by, “You know I rarely leave this place.”

 “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a sad way to be spending your time. But man, if I could stay here all my life I would.“ She struts into the room where the reply came from.

He is indeed there, standing by one of the many shelves, a candleholder with lit handles in one hand, browsing the shelf’s contents with the other. He chuckles at her statement, brushing it off completely, “I was waiting for you. Have a seat, I’ll pick a story for you.”

She gets comfortable, unwrapping her scarf and shrugging off her jacket. Sitting down in one of the leather chairs opposite his desk, she crosses her legs and waits expectantly.

“Ah, there we go. ‘House Of Ashes’, how does that sound to you?” He pulls out a book, holding it under the candlelight for Y/N to see the cover with the title engraved in the, what seems to be, leather surface.

She frowns, scrunching her nose, “You know what, no. I’m tired of these sad and scary stories laced with death. I can’t live knowing I gave those characters a bad fate. I know it’s redo-able, but I can’t help but feel shitty afterwards.” She shifts in her seat, “First all those people left stranded on that boat! Then I was tricked into sympathizing and emotionally investing into characters that were nothing more than the product of a broken mind!” She gives him a glare that’s looking through him more than at him, “I think I deserve a different story this time. Something lighter.”

The older man chuckles. “I was gonna have you choose between this one and this other oldie I have,” he points at the desk where another book is already sitting, “it’s a longer story, I might have mentioned it before.” Y/N reads the title ‘The Impatient’ engraved in the olive green cover of the large book, “But that’s not in any way lighter either. I would even say it’s among the more depressive ones.“ He pauses for a second, returning ‘House Of Ashes’ in its spot, “Perhaps I could find a story of a less melancholic premise.”

“Wait.“ She lifts her hand, putting his actions to a halt, “Why don’t we change it up for once? How about you tell me a story instead of reading me one?“

He’s very clearly taken aback by this. “I’m afraid an old man like myself doesn’t have a lot to share. Especially not when I’ve spent a rather big chunk of my life in this very place, doing this very thing.”

Y/N shakes her head, “Quite the contrary, mister Curator. I believe you have way more stories than all the people my age combined.” She smirks, “Don’t worry, I won’t tattle if you have some dirt on your name. What is it? Robbery? Fraud? Murder?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I am not that interesting.“ He chuckles, settling in his chair. “But I believe I could tell you the story of the only time I helped someone directly rather than through the riddles you hate so much.“

She’s clearly pleased with the outcome of her protest. She gives him a smile, “I’m all ears.“

He can’t help but shake his head at her child-like enthusiasm for something so simple. He’s determined to make it worth her while, so he digs through the contents of his brain, looking for the most interesting memories he has stored there - the ones that would entertain her. Eventually, he comes up with one.

“Have I ever mentioned my dear friend Alan to you, by any chance?“

Y/N thinks for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, but as usual, you were very vague.”

He chuckles, “I know you hate not being given details, so I’m gonna make sure not to leave anything out.” He absentmindedly picks up the pen on his desk, twirling it between his fingers, “Well, a brief introduction to our character Alan: he’s a psychiatrist. A year or two younger than me. He’s from Calgary. I met him in my mid-thirties, when I was still what some would consider young.” He smiles at the pleasant memory.

Y/N fakes shock, placing a hand over her chest, “You mean to tell me there was time when you, the Curator, were young? You can’t be serious. I refuse to believe that.”

“I was. And I was quite handsome, mind you.“ He takes out his wallet, opening it and handing it to Y/N. On the right, covered by a thin layer of clear plastic is a black and white photo of two men in their early to mid forties.

“You’re the one on the left, right?” She asks, staring at the photo wide eyes, looking up at him for confirmation. He nods in response. “Wow, I honestly wouldn’t have recognized you.” 

“Understandably so. Time has really taken a toll on me.“ He actually looks saddened when he says that. She can tell that was less a joke and more the truth.

“I wouldn’t say so.“ She tells him sincerely, a small genuine smile on her lips.

He returns her smile, his eyes becoming a bit livelier. “Him and I are still friends till this day. He’s a walking book of stories, I’m sure you’d like him if you ever get the chance to meet him. You see, he has spoken to me about all his patients, never once naming one of them. Until this on young man had come into his office. He was struggling with issues medicine in and of itself couldn’t completely fix. His name was Joshua. The boy was having a really tough time dealing with the loss of his sisters.” He sighs at the memory, “Alan told me he tried everything. He tried all things his years of practice and work have taught him but the boy was slowly sinking further and further down into the void of his mind.“

His voice is way different from his usual narrator tone. You can hear the weight of the events he’s reciting in every syllable that leaves his lips. She is now an accomplice, exactly like if she were there when it all happened.

“It was troubling my friend to the brink of madness, I couldn’t just stand aside and watch that. Also that kind young man, Joshua, deserved a lot better than what life was giving him. Every branch that poor boy held onto snapped. Everything he ever tried to make of himself crumbled. I admired him for the fact that he kept trying and seeking a way to succeed. What he failed to see was the obvious need for help he had. He was longing for a helping hand but no one noticed, or they simply didn’t care. Except this one girl. Her name was Samantha. She saw right through his act. But he never allowed her helping hand to reach him. He never wanted to be a weight on her shoulders. Never wanted to be nor the bump in her road nor the baggage she carried while walking it. So, I stepped in. I taught him the importance of having someone by your side, and taught her the importance of never giving up on someone who means a lot to you. Luckily for themselves and for Alan and I, they listened.“

“Forget about Alan, I want to meet Joshua and Samantha. I want to meet them and give them a big hug.“ Y/N says, her mind wandering to the images she has compiled. A broken boy and a girl with the strength to carry both her and his world in her arms. She can quite see their face, but she can picture their auras, their energies. They feel so real to her, and all just from the Curator’s words alone.

Soon enough, her eyelids start giving out, her eyes fluttering closed. She’s fighting to the best of her ability to stay awake, see this story to its end, but the Curator’s storytelling and the dark, candlelit room aren’t helping her with the battle. Her mind is drifting further and further into the land where the story she’s being told will keep expanding with elements added by her imagination. She’s certain she’ll dream of this tale.

“Oh you’re already clocking out, huh?“ The Curator chuckles, pausing his story mid-sentence.

“Can’t help it.“ Y/N mumbles, already more than half asleep, “Just tell me how it ends, you’ll fill in the gaps when I wake up.“

“Well, it hasn’t ended yet. I can tell you where it’s at at the moment.“ She hums approvingly, “It’s been five years since I stepped in and now they are happily married. They have a little one on the way. A little girl, I believe.“

A lazy smile forms on her face. “That’s nice.” the words leave her lips in the form of a sleepy sigh moments before she has been dragged into the deepest crevasses of her mind and imagination.

The Curator calmly and quietly gets up, taking his jacket from the coatrack. He drapes it over the girl asleep in the armchair on the other side of his desk. Little does this college student know, he has seen both her past and future. He has met her in several different periods of her life. She’s been like her own personal guardian angel. In her past-lives too.

Guardian angel of death.

He was lucky to have met Alan before that curse was bestowed upon him - making the psychiatrist the only man he could interact with without bringing him a sooner than anticipated and inevitable demise. He wasn’t completely honest with Y/N about the time frame of meeting the other man, but that was not an important piece of information. She could do without it. He used the only hall-pass he had to do his old friend a favor - settle the storms that raged between Joshua and Samantha. And now, he’s locked away from the world, waiting for souls to come to him instead of the other way around.

Nowadays, he just stays hidden from people and only meets with those who wander into his repository. It’s always the same pattern: they come in, not really sure how they ended up there; He coaches them through a story they think they have some sort of impact on; and then they leave and never come back.

Color the man surprised when he saw her walk in the first time. It took him no time to connect the dots, he’d recognize her anywhere. She wasn’t clueless like the others, she actually seemed like she was looking for the place. He spent the next week or so feeling like he had failed the only purpose he had - to keep her safe. That was until she showed up again, even cheerier than the first time. That’s when he knew he shouldn’t fear for her, for she was a phenomenon beyond his understanding. A soul never in death’s reach.

“I hope you never get to see the same fate as everyone else who meets me.“ He whispers, looking down at her sleeping form.

He knows she’s special. After all, he never has never met anyone more than once.

#the dark pictures man of medan #the dark pictures #the dark pictures little hope #the dark pictures house of ashes #the dark pictures anthology #dark pictures anthology #dark pictures little hope #dark pictures #little hope #man of medan #until dawn #ps4 #video game #video games #video game fanfic #game #the curator #curator #the curator x reader #curator x reader #supermassive games #supermassive #death #supernatural #fanfiction #fanfic #dark theme #x reader #reader insert #requests open

[pepethehobbit]

I wrote a van der stoffels AU for the Skam Holiday Event and because I am a giant mess I couldn’t stay with one theme and kind of jumbled a lot of them together? This story is basically for Day 1: Decorations, Day 3: Winter and Day 5: Parties

And because holidays are stressful even with Corona I didn’t manage to finish it on time, but it’s the 26th so it’s technically still Christmas, so I hope it’s okay that I post it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Jens and Lucas being dumb and in love.

„I’m sorry you want me to do what?“

„Pretend? Please, Luc. I know it’s such a weird thing to ask of you but I can’t stand their constant questioning and interrogation any more of when I will finally bring a nice girl or boy home, especially not around Christmas. My family is weirdly obsessed with my relationship status and that it’s currently single. I just want them off my back.”

Lucas hears what Jens is saying. And it’s nothing new either. Jens’ family really is oddly nosy about his relationship status even more so since he came out, as if the fact that he is bi would enhance his chances somehow. Lucas knows this frustration because Jens has talked to him about it a few times especially around holidays or Jens’ birthday, where his family is extra persistent about Jens finding someone.

Jens hasn’t done anything about it, he stays silent and then complains about it to Lucas later. Until now, Lucas guesses. Because Jens just asked him to come to his parents house for a Christmas family gathering with coffee and cake and a later dinner. But that is not the thing that took him by surprise. Lucas has spend a few Christmases at the Stoffels household, especially when his own family couldn’t be there for him or just straight up left one year like his father had. They basically spend every Christmas together in some capacity since Lucas moved to Antwerp when he was eleven and both of them becoming inseparable.

Jens has been Lucas’ best friend for eight years now and at first he thought Jens was kidding, but he recognizes a serious expression on his face when he sees one. He has years of experience to back it up. So that is the thing that surprises him. Jens is seriously asking him if he can come home with him for Christmas to pretend that he is Jens’ boyfriend. Lucas must have been too quiet for too long because Jens begins to backtrack. He shakes his head and then lowers it. His voice is filled with an unusual insecurity.

“Forget it, Luc. It was a dumb question to ask of me. They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

“I’ll do it.”

It slips out before Lucas could consciously think about it.  He wasn’t really planning on saying yes to this, because there was a voice in his head that immediately screamed: “No! Bad Idea!” But with the way Jens head snaps back up to him with a huge smile of relief he can’t bring himself to take it back.

The problem is, Lucas wants to be like that with Jens for real. It took him a while to figure it out after Jens broke up with Jana but he is definitely in love with his best friend and has been for two years. Pretending to be with Jens so his family gets off his back would be pure torture for Lucas. He knows exactly what his best friend is like when he is in a relationship. Jens doesn’t shy away from open affection, says the cheesiest shit that he makes out to be a joke (but Lucas knows he means every single one of them) and is just in general the most attentive and supportive boyfriend anyone could ask for. Maybe Lucas is a bit biased on this topic but he is pretty sure that being on the receiving end of these things from Jens would not help him at all to get over his best friend like he should. Especially with the knowledge that it’s all fake from Jens’ side. He would get a glimpse of what it would be like and then Jens would snatch it all away and thank him for being such a good friend. Lucas is not sure if his heart would survive that.

“Really? Luc, oh my god, thank you! You really don’t know how annoying they are. I don’t know what’s gotten into them lately but they are worse than ever.” Jens seems so relieved and Lucas’s heart breaks a little more. He just needs to be medical about this, needs to set up some rules that he and Jens can stick to so Jens doesn’t do anything that Lucas wouldn’t recover from. Like kissing him.

“Have you thought about how we would sell it? Because your family knows me pretty well, knows we’ve been friends for years. What’s the story?”

Jens ducks his head for a second and then raises it with a sheepish smile. “Well, I didn’t really expect you to say yes to this, so I didn’t do a lot of planing ahead. Maybe we can do that together?”

After an hour or so they had it all planed out and rules to stick to. When Lucas mentioned rules, Jens got a bit confused (Rules? What kind of rules?) and Lucas had to fight down the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, don’t you think that your family will find it weird when we won’t touch all evening? We need some rules of what is allowed and what isn’t.”

Lucas felt so awkward in that moment. Not only talking to your best friend about what is and isn't off limits but at the same time trying to stop thinking about how much he wants Jens to do all of things for him for real. After agreeing that holding hands and a little bit of cuddling is definitely okay, Jens suddenly got very shy again and asked with a small voice: “What about kissing?”

Lucas’ very fast and firm “No!” seemed to shock Jens a little bit and a look of disappointment flashed across his face which made Lucas momentarily mad at Jens. He has no right to be upset about this, he can’t be expecting Lucas to kiss him for the sake of making it believable. Lucas’ could not go back from that. Kissing Jens, knowing what it would feel like, what he could have if Jens only returned his feelings, no that’s too much for Lucas. “No, you’re right. Sorry. I wouldn’t want to make you more uncomfortable about this evening than it will probably already be.” Lucas doesn’t point out that kissing Jens would be the exact opposite of uncomfortable for him and just lets him think that that’s why he draws the line at kissing. “It will be like any other Christmas I have spend with your family, Jens. The only difference is that we will have to pretend to be madly in love, stick to our story and hold hands the entire time, what could go wrong?” Jens chuckles at Lucas’ obviously fake positive outlook for the evening and said: “Famous last words, Lucas.”

And that is how he currently finds himself on the steps of Jens’ old family home with Jens hesitantly taking his hand in his and asking: “Ready?” Jens slowly raises his other hand to ring the bell but Lucas interrupts him: “Wait. Let’s go over it again.” Jens lets his hand fall again and with the other one he gives Lucas an encouraging squeeze. “Luc, we’ve been over this a million times. They won’t notice a thing. We got this, okay?” Lucas doesn’t have the chance to respond because then the door is being opened and Jens’ mum gives them an enthusiastic welcome. She doesn't notice their joined hands and simply hugs them both. It gives Lucas an instant kind of comfort. Mama Stoffels has always been there for him. When he couldn’t be around his own family she opened up her home to Lucas as often and as long as he needed.

“You must be freezing. Come in, come in. The others are already here. You’re the last to arrive.”

They get in and the familiarity of the surroundings help Lucas to calm down even more. He knows these people, he knows the place and he knows Jens. The only thing he has to do is to pretend to be in love with Jens for one day. It wouldn’t even be pretending for Lucas. The only thing he has to do is to let down his carefully constructed wall that keeps Jens from knowing Lucas’ true feelings for him. Lucas only hopes that he can rebuild the wall once this day is over.

Mama Stoffels already left for the living room while Lucas and Jens shove off their jackets, scarfs and beanies, expecting them to follow her to the room where the rest of Jens’ family already waits for them. Lucas looks nervously up at Jens and then at the door which is currently still hiding them from the storm of questions they are about to receive when they walk through that door.

Jens takes his hand again, which is part of the plan and asks: “Ready? We can still not do this. It’s your choice.”

“No, I’m ready. Let’s do this. You owe me big time for this, though.”

Jens grins at him easily and says: “I know, thank you, Luc. And believe me, the next four vettige vrijdag are on me.”

“Alright, I can live with that.”

Jens squeezes his hand once more and opens the door.

Lucas knows more or less everyone in this room. Jens’ parents of course, his little sister Lotte and his older sister Lies he knows best but he has met both of Jens’ aunts, uncles and grandparents several times as well. There are a few faces he doesn’t know, mostly younger kids who don’t pay attention to them anyway (Jens said a few of his younger cousins would be there as well). The first one to see them enter is Lies and Lucas has to hold in his laugh at the way her face goes through confusion, to understanding and lastly arrives at pure and utter joy.

“Oh my god, finally!” Lies all but screams and that works to get everybody else’s attention as well. Lucas feels the eyes of nearly everybody in the room on them and sees how they their gazes swipe down to their tangled hands and up again. He looks nervously over to Jens because that’s most definitely his job right now.

Jens clears his throat and says: “You know how you always annoy the crap out of me to find someone nice to date? Yeah, well. I did.” With that he gives Lucas’ hand a squeeze and raised their joined hands so everybody can see them properly.

The silence that follows is grating on Lucas’ nerves but then everybody kind of erupts in enthusiastic screams and shouts over each other. Lucas’ doesn’t understand everything but he thinks the overall consensus about the revelation is that everybody is thrilled for them and the world “finally” is heard a little too often for Lucas’ comfort.

Lies is the one to bring them all to silence. “Guys, stop! I know we are all thrilled that they finally got their head out of their asses but let them say hello first.” Lucas doesn’t want to think about the implications of Lies’ statement and is glad that he gets distracted by her pulling them both towards the table, giving them both a firm hug and setting them down at two empty seats.

As everybody is kind of settled again, the silence returns and Lucas’ should have known that the gleam in Lies’ eyes would mean that this is far from over for both of them.

“And now the interrogation can begin. So, shoot. How did this happen?”

All the curious eyes are on them again and Lucas looks over to Jens to find him already staring. He hopes his eyes convey his silent support because this first portion of the plan is definitely all Jens. All Lucas has to do is sit here and look convincingly in love with Jens, which again is not really a hardship for him anyway.

“Well you all know that we’ve been friends for a long time now and a few months ago I started to realize that my feelings for him changed.” Jens takes Lucas’ hand again and places it in his lap, it’s an obvious enough gesture to support the story. Lucas notices how the mischievous gleam in Lies’ eyes is replaced with a much softer, fonder one. “Then I drunkenly kissed him at a party one night and lucky for me Lucas kind of stopped me and said ‘Kiss me again in the morning, when you’re not drunk.’ And that’s what I did and now we’re here.”

Lucas couldn’t help the blush that spread on his face, even though the story is completely fake, the thought of Jens kissing him just does that to him. It seemed to help their case though, as Papa Stoffels points out: “Look at you blush, Lucas. I always knew Jens would eventually fall victim to your charm.”

At this Jens lets out an incredulous “Dad!” but Lucas can’t help but laugh. Jens fixes him with an over exaggerated indignant gaze and Lucas just needs to tease him. “So my charms are what finally got to you, huh? Tell me, what exactly about my charms was it? The handsome looks? The devastatingly funny sense of humor? The -”

Before he can continue Jens hides his head in the crook of Lucas’ neck and mumbles loud enough for the others to hear as well: “Shut up oh my god, you’re so annoying.” While he speaks he feels Jens’ lips lightly move against his neck and Lucas suddenly has a hard time coming up with a response. Thankfully, he is saved by Mama Stoffels.

“Well, Jens. You didn’t deny any of those things, either.” Her tone is cheeky and it’s not the first time Lucas’ notices the similarities in their natures between Jens and his Mum.

Jens lifts his head to stare accusingly at the rest of his family and says: “You are all annoying. Can we eat our cake now, please?”

Lies’ fixes them both with a stare. “You can. But don’t think this is over. The interrogation has only just begun. I want to know everything.” Her words sound harsh but she says them in such a fond tone Lucas can see them for what they are. She seems so genuinely happy and not that surprised at the news that he and Jens are dating that Lucas wonders if she has always kind of known how he really feels about her brother. But he can’t worry about that now as they get drawn into the conversation around them. He can feel himself relax in the presence of these people who he would consider his second family. At one point Jens puts his arm around Lucas’ shoulder to pull him into his chest while talking to his grandparents. A gesture they don’t usually share and should feel unnatural but it being the exact opposite. Lucas forgets that this is only pretending and decided to soak up as much of Jens’ freely offered affection as possible. Because if he is only allowed to have them for one night he is going to make the most of it.

He fully snuggles up to Jens, links their fingers together and begins tracing the moles on Jens’ arm with the other. Something he always wanted to do. When the conversation gets dragged back to them and about how they got together, Lucas gets brave and offers a sign of affection of his own. Jens is in the middle of explaining how he confessed his feelings for his best friend when Lucas raises his hand to strike a hand through Jens’ raven black hair. Jens’ falters for a second, then looks at Lucas with big eyes and a small smile on his face that has Lucas’ insides churning. It’s not a look that he would usually receive from Jens and it’s doing things to Lucas, like forgetting that this is all pretend.

“You two are going to be that couple I can already tell. You are both so smitten.” It’s Lies’ voice once again that interrupts their weird moment of eye contact. Lucas tries to find his voice again because Jens is just ducking his head, trying to hide a blush that Lucas can see rising up his neck anyway. He tries to steer the conversation away from them to get them to safer grounds.

“Don’t pretend that you and Josh wouldn’t be the same if he was here. You are ten times worse than us.”

“He is right you know.”

“Mama!” Lies’ indignant tone raises a laugh from all of them and the conversation moves on around them. Jens is still not looking at Lucas and he has pulled his hand back to himself. Lucas nudges him with his elbow but Jens doesn’t look up.

“Hey, you alright?,” Lucas asks quietly so that the others don’t hear.

Jens takes a deep breath and finally looks up at Lucas with an expression that’s much more closed and sadly one that Lucas is much more used to, nothing compared to how he had looked at Lucas just moments prior.

“Yeah, I’m okay. All good.” Lucas is not convinced but he can’t exactly nudge Jens for more when they are surrounded by his family within hearing distance. “I’ll go see if Dad needs help in the kitchen, be right back.” With that he stands up and leaves Lucas confused and alone with his family. Something happened there and Lucas isn’t sure what. Jens is just pretending. Why is he suddenly fleeing when it seems to be working? Isn’t this exactly what Jens had wanted?

Lucas doesn’t have a chance to think about this further as Lotte, now twelve years old, calls for him to come to the door which leads to the kitchen. “What’s up Lotte?” he asks once he has reached her but she is suddenly turning around, calling for Jens in the kitchen without answering his question. Lucas is confused but then Jens stands in the doorway with him and asks Lotte the same question who gazes at them both with a bright smile on her face.

“Look up.” Jens and Lucas share a confused look but do as they’re told and realization begins to sink in. Mistletoe. Lucas lowers his gaze again and locks eyes with Jens straight away. The one rule he is still unsure about wanting to break and Jens seems equally hesitant.

“People are supposed to kiss under a Mistletoe, right? So kiss.” Lotte says it as if this would be the easiest thing in the world and from the corner of his eye he can see that they gathered quite the attention even though the rest of Jens’ family tries to be subtle about it.

He takes a step towards Jens, never leaving his eyes. Jens returns his gaze with an equal amount of vulnerability and questions. Lucas takes his hand in his and decides to just go for it. Screw the consequences. This evening is an exception to everything and suddenly he really wants to know what it feels like to have Jens’ lips on him, at least once. As quietly as possible he whispers: “It’s okay.” He can see Jens starting to argue, he obviously remembers how adamant Lucas was about no kissing. But now Lucas doesn’t care. “It’s okay,” he whispers again and he can see the protest fleeing out of Jens’ eyes.

It’s Jens that closes the final distance between them. He sees how Jens’ eyes flutter shut before his own follow. Their noses touch, sending a shiver down Lucas’ spine in anticipation. When Jens angles his head and finally connects their mouths Lucas can only hold his breath. He thought Jens would go for a simple peck but once their lips are connected both of them can’t seem to let go of each other.  Jens’ lips are warm and gentle and when he parts them against his own he tastes of the gingerbread cake they ate before. He feels Jens stepping even further into his space and beginning to move his lips against him with a slight tremble and Lucas melts into his chest.

A loud whistle is what separates them and they both all but spring apart from each other looking for the source of the noise. It was Lies, of course. Who else could it have been. Lucas chances a quick look at Jens but he is not paying him any attention, as if this kiss was completely ordinary and did not just completely turned Lucas world upside down. Which reminds him once again, this is pretend. Of course Jens is acting like this, because he doesn’t feel what Lucas feels and because he can’t act like this was their first kiss when they are supposed to have kissed for over a month now.

“Oh Lies, shut up. You’re just jealous because Josh isn’t here.” Lies looks like she is ready to throw back another teasing remark when Jens’s father steps out of the kitchen. “Jens, language!” His son ducks his head, ruffles Lotte’s hair, who still stands next to them and says “Sorry.”

“Well, if the show is over now, you can all come into the kitchen. The buffet is open now. I hope you’re all hungry.”

The general commotion that follows gives Lucas some time to collect himself. He tries to catch Jens’ eyes again but he seems very determined to ignore Lucas right now. Jens follows the others into the kitchen to get in line for the food and doesn’t say anything about what just happened. Lucas suddenly doesn’t feel that hungry anymore and flees to the bathroom.

He steps in front of the sink and looks up in the mirror. His eyes automatically zero in on his lips as if searching for proof that the kiss really happened. His fingers gently trace his own lips where Jens’ have been just a minute before, disbelieving. Lucas got what he wanted and it was simultaneously the best and worst kiss he has ever experienced. Kissing Jens has felt like coming home and just so utterly and purely right but it comes with the knowledge that is wasn’t the same for Jens.  He was so nonchalant after, like he wasn’t affected at all whereas Lucas is now freaking out in a bathroom. How is he supposed to survive dinner and a few more hours with this play they put up for Jens’ family. All he wants is to go home and be alone so he can try and forget the kiss that cemented his feelings for his best friend. Before, there may have been a chance of getting over his crush but with the knowledge of how it feels to be kissed by Jens that chance is completely gone. He should have never agreed to this. But he has and Jens is still his friend. Lucas turns on the tap and splashes some water in his face and tries to collect himself. Only three more hours or so and then he can go home. One last deep breath and he opens the door to join the others again.

When he sets foot in the living room/dining room his eyes immediately find Jens and he looks at him as if asking him if he is okay. Lucas tries his most convincing smile and nods once, then turns around and makes his way to the kitchen to get some food. He sits down next to Jens and conversation with his family starts to flow easily again.

Dinner is not as bad as Lucas thought it would be. But he notices that Jens is more distant. Before he pulled Lucas into his personal space as much as he could and now he doesn’t even try to hold his hand. He is worried and relieved at the same time. Worried that he made Jens so uncomfortable with the kiss that he doesn’t even want to hold his hand anymore and relieved because Lucas is sure that he couldn’t have handled more fake affection from Jens. He softly nudges Jens with his elbow to get his attention. Jens turns around and looks at Lucas questioningly. “What is it?”

Lucas slowly leans forward and as quietly as possible he asks: “Are we okay?” Before Jens scolds his expression into a reassuring one Lucas saw the flash of sadness in his face. Anyone else would look over it but Lucas saw and it makes his stomach drop with anxiety.

“We’re okay.” But Lucas doesn’t relax with these words, not in the slightest. He knows that there is something going on in Jens that he wants to hide from Lucas and it's probably his fault and the fact that he was kind of forced to kiss Lucas when he probably really didn’t want to.

After desert Jens’ family slowly makes their way home member by member. Jens and Lucas stay a little bit longer after everyone already left. They are on the floor in front of the fake fireplace and play a round of The settlers of Catan with Jens loosing terribly and Lucas teasing him mercilessly for it, his parents and Lies joining him. Lotte is a sweetheart as always and tries her best to trade with Jens anything that he needs. Lucas is still very unnerved about this whole evening and what happened between Jens and him but this is familiar. It warms his heart to see how easy he fits in here and how natural it seems for Jens’ family to not only accept his presence but welcome him with open hearts to family evenings like this. It works to calm his nerves a little bit, especially because Jens seems to be more like himself as well. He leans more into Lucas and falls into their natural teasing so effortlessly as if he forgot the weird mood that surrounded them after the kiss.

In the end, Lies wins and she demands that everyone bows down to the queen of settlers. They jokingly indulge her but she looses their attention when Lotte runs to the window and excitedly jumps up and down and screams: “It’s snowing, it’s snowing. Look!!”

They all get up to look at the white powder falling from the sky, which has already covered the whole street in a thick layer of snow.

“Can we go outside and make snow angles?” Lotte asks in a voice so giddy that only an overly excited 12-year-old can manage.

“Lotte, it’s way too cold and it’s way past your bedtime already. The snow will probably still be there in the morning and then we can all go outside and have a little walk through the snow together okay?”

Lotte seems to accept that quite begrudgingly and mumbles something about boring party poopers under her breath which has Jens and Lucas eyes meet with shared amusement. His mom and dad usher Lotte upstairs and Lucas takes the opportunity to announce that they should be going as well.

“Lucas, you two can’t go now. It’s a twenty minute walk and it’s snowing very heavyly. Why don’t you two just stay in Jens’ old room? I’ll drive you both home tomorrow after breakfast.”

Lucas wants to argue, especially as he feels Jens stiffen next to him, bringing back the uncomfortable mood between them. He opens his mouth to say something but Lies interrupts him.

“Stop that. You’re not intruding, not at all. You are always welcome here you know that. Even more so then your boyfriend.” She says the last part with a wink towards her little brother who just fondly roles his eyes and shakes his head at his sister’s words. Lucas can hardly argue that but he still looks to Jens for confirmation that this is okay, especially after Jens seemed very uncomfortable with the idea of them staying the night. But then he pulls Lucas more into his side as he sees Lotte’s questioning gaze on them and says: “Sure, let’s stay for the night. More time to cuddle with you.”

Only now Lucas realizes that he has to share a bed with Jens for the night and he instantly regrets it again. Why. Why can’t he just say no for once in his life. It’s so weird between them right now. Even though Jens has him in his arms, he feels more than a thousand miles away from him.

They inform Jens’ parents and soon after say their goodnights to them and make their way upstairs to Jens’ old room. Lucas had tons of sleepovers here and they shared a bed many times before but this is different. He knows that he won’t get an ounce of sleep with Jens so close next to him. Jens informs him that there is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and gives him some of his clothes to sleep in that he still keeps in his parents place. Even though Jens seems all chill Lucas sees through his act. The air between them is awkward and stilted and Lucas has no idea on how to fix this. Talking about it would probably help but Lucas isn’t ready to loose Jens yet, which will probably happen anyway with the way Jens acts kind of cold towards him.

They take turns in the bathroom down the hall and when Jens is gone Lucas settles in on the left side of the bed towards the windows. Jens comes back, turns off the light and Lucas feels the bed dip under his weight as Jens settles in next to him. The bed is big enough for both of them but their shoulders are still only a few inches apart and Lucas is very aware of the fact that his hand is very close to Jens’ own in the middle of the bed. A very uncomfortable silence stretches unbearably between them, not even a quiet goodnight, and it’s enough for Lucas to finally speak.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, Jens. It was obviously too much and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I know I said no kissing but everyone was looking at us and because you asked about it in the first place, when we sat up those rules, I thought you would be okay with it. But clearly it made you super uncomfortable because you have been weird for the rest of the evening and I’m sorry.”

Lucas is met with silence again and the fact that he can’t see Jens’ face in the dark makes him even more anxious. Then Jens speaks.

“Why did you decide to kiss me when you seemed so appalled to it earlier? You were the one that was clearly uncomfortable just at the thought of kissing me, so you could’ve easily said no or made a joke about it. You didn’t have to kiss me like you meant it when you clearly didn’t want to. So, why did you?”

Lucas is taken aback by the hurt in Jens’ voice and hates himself for being the reason for it. It makes him want to be honest, maybe Jens will be even more mad at him for basically using him but at least he won’t hurt him anymore by lying to him.

“I wasn’t appalled to the idea of kissing you. That is the whole problem, actually. I said no to kissing at first because I knew there would be no going back from that for me. But in that moment today I just went with the excuse because I knew it would be the only opportunity for me to ever know what it would be like to kiss you. And I’m sorry for that. I knew this was a bad idea from the start because I knew that my feelings would ruin this and I-”

A sudden light makes Lucas stop in his apology and confession in one. After adjusting to the sudden brightness he sees how Jens sat up in the bed and turned on the light in the bedside table. Lucas sits up as well and waits for Jens to say something. But he just looks at him with wide eyes full of doubt but also… hope?

Lucas sees how Jens’ hand slowly reaches for his own and sucks in a breath when Jens intertwines their fingers together. “What are you doing?”, Lucas asks with a shaky exhale of breath and looks up from their joined hands to Jens’ eyes. Something seems to be decided in Jens’ brain because the doubtful expression vanishes and is replaced with a softer look full of affection and determination.

“Luc, okay first of all. I wasn’t uncomfortable when we kissed, not in the slightest. Quite the opposite really. If anything it made me come out of my denial and proofed what I suspected for a while now.”

“Which is?” Lucas asks when Jens doesn’t continue. Hope begins to settle in his chest and an excited warm and fuzzy feeling spreads when Jens raises their joined hands to his lips and kisses Lucas’ hand.

“That I am in love with you.”

Lucas can’t do much but stare at Jens completely speechless as an overwhelming feeling of happiness washes over him. He feels how is lips stretch into a smile that he can’t help and then he grabs Jens by the front of his shirt, pulls him towards himself and kisses him again. Jens’ surprised yelp is smothered by their lips softly moving together and Lucas feels how Jens melts into him after the initial surprise. He lets his hand slide from the collar of the shirt to Jens’ neck and begins to play with the short strands of hair. Jens lets out a little satisfied sound and opens his lips for Lucas, inviting him in.

Lucas feels like he is floating when they eventually break apart. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds to bask in this feeling only a little while longer. He opens his eyes and is met with Jens’ most beautiful smile and begins to realize that he is the reason for that. Lucas can’t help himself and steals another short kiss from Jens before he says: “I love you, too. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

Jens laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “God, Luc. Today was pure torture. The whole time I was asking myself ‘How can he be so good at pretending?’ And then that kiss and I… God, I was having a silent freak out after that kiss but I couldn’t show it and you were looking at me like that and I couldn’t handle that it was all pretend, that’s why I was so weird after. I finally came out of my denial for my feelings and it was because of a fake kiss with you.”

“I can’t believe I bought your chill act. I totally believed you weren’t affected by that kiss at all and it made me freak out and flee to the bathroom because I couldn’t handle the fact that I just kissed you.”

“We are so dumb.” Jens says with laughter and Lucas can’t help but agree. During this whole conversation he has been smiling so much his cheeks hurt. Jens is making him so unbelievably happy, he can’t believe he got so lucky.

“So, I guess the plan is off?”

Jens looks at him confused but the smile never leaves his face. Lucas isn’t much better off. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the plan where we would’ve told your family that we broke up in three weeks because we are better off as friends?”

At that Jens face light up with remembrance and he gets a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh that plan. Yeah, I mean, I guess you can carry the title of my boyfriend a while longer if you want to,” he says with over exaggerated nonchalance.

“You guess?” Lucas indulges him in his teasing, tries to act offended but he can’t keep the smile off his face or the happiness out of his voice.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother me, you know. As long as you keep doing the things a boyfriend does,” Jens says with wiggling eyebrows and a teasing smirk. Lucas can’t help but lean in and wipe that smile of his face with his own lips. “Oh, I see. And what does that entail, exactly?” he asks when he leans back.

Jens closes the distance again and whispers against his lips: “More of that.”

They fall asleep embraced in each other and Lucas couldn't remember a time where he slept better than in Jens' arms. He woke up before Jens and lets himself admire the beauty that his a sleeping Jens. It's as if his fingers have a will of their own when they begin to trace Jens' face, from his forehead down to his eyebrows, then his nose and lastly his lips. They begin to twitch into a small smile but his eyes stay closed. Jens lets out a content hum. "I could get used to waking up like this."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Oh long enough to know that you've been staring at me," Jens says teasingly but he sounds way too happy for Lucas to really question if Jens is bothered by it.  

Jens finally opens his eyes and reaches for Lucas' hand which has fallen down between their faces after Lucas was done with caressing Jens' face. He intertwines their fingers together and snuggles up even closer to Lucas.

"So, last night wasn't a dream then?" Lucas can't help but chuckle at the clichee words but he also kind of melts at Jens' sleepy and hopeful voice.

"Would it have been a good dream?"

Jens looks up into Lucas' blue eyes and with an expression full of affection and love he says: "The best."

Lucas agrees. He could get used to waking up like this as well.

#skamholidayevent #vds #van der stoffels #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #christmas fic #fake dating au #my writing

[molachaka]

bonding (2/3) - pillars (crack)

"You'll be capturing lot of men's heart, Kyoujurou." Shinobu stated, finished with his make-up after a brush of ointment on his lips: the bright red lipstick showing wonders to his pale complexion.

"Please," Kyoujurou replied in a high pitch tone that made the insect pillar choked on her spit. "Call me Kyouko-chan."

"That's the spirit, Kyouko-chan!" Mitsuri exclaimed happily as she tamed his unruly hair down into curled strands. How she managed the impossible, we wouldn't know. "Do the impossible! Spread love with your beauty!" oh now we do-

"Aren't you doing that already, Mitsu-chan?" The man-turned-woman tilted his head in question, making the pink-haired giggle uncontrollably and slapped his back.

Shinobu heard a bone breaking somewhere in there but props for flame daddy not reacting to it.

Meanwhile, (Name) closed in the room as she raised a sunset-colored hikizuri for everyone to see - red obi were tied around her neck like a scarf.

"I think this would look good on him since he has a pretty nice ass! This obi will hug his beautiful frame and let the booty flow!"

"Thank you so much for picking the best color to fit me, (Name)-chan!" Kyouko-chan turned around to give their comrade a thankful grin.

And what beauty she had seen.

One hand cupped her lower face as (Name) blushed at the beautiful woman sitting in front of her. Elegant looks, wide eyes - adorable personality. Oh kami. Maybe he can be gay. He is perfect to be gay - the perfect seme to an uke…! The other way around? Or, or… 

She didn't know that a revelation will happen to her - but here it is, here's the truth. Staring at Kyoujurou makes her feel the gay.

"Kami." The woman breathed, fanning herself with one unoccupied hand. "You're beautiful, Kyou-hime."

Kyoujurou blinked at her with wide eyes, before his closed, reserved smile lit up the room. 

Being called a princess made the flame pillar chuckle behind his sleeves - the fleeting sound making the (element) hashira's knees felt like jelly.

"I know right?!" Mitsuri giggled as she winked with a playful tongue out. "The boys won't know what hit them!"

(Name) blinked at her in tears, nodding and staring at the flame pillar in a new light.

They better be questioning their sexuality after this because she sure did.

---

Brought to you by, baby Inosuke having a race with literal boars. Put that in your mind. Visualize it. Happy? I sure am. Again. Baby boar-head inosuke.

---

The Hashira men don't know how to react if ever they'd see one of their leader figure dressed like a woman. But truthfully told, half of them don't even want to; but there's a slither deep inside them that sways them to have interest in this idiocy they're participating in.

"Do you think he'll look like a middle-age courtesan from the red district?" Obanai asked his peers, staring at the room the girls disappeared into.

"I'm betting my money he'll look more as someone else's flamboyant grandma." Tengen laughed at his own statement as he down a bottle of sake, trying to remove the imagery in his mind. The bitter look on his face said it all, and no one wanted to ask what kind of shit did he just imagined.

"I don't know." Gyomei silently preached in his seat. "Listening to the girl's reactions at Muichirou makes me think of the possibility it'll work out."

"I don't want to even think anymore." Sanemi stated in the background, massaging his temples with eyes wide in horror. "Just looking at Muichirou made me almost die."

"I won't be responsible for your death." The mist pillar retorted, drinking cup of sake without anyone stopping him down because they know how badly he wishes to forget this night ever happened. His one decorated hair is halfway undone as he sniffled, finally ruining his make-up with his snot and kimono. "I am… considering to kill myself." Emo boy turned.

Giyuu perked up at that. "I'll accompany you." He turned to look at his fellow pillar until he stopped - eyes turning blank at the horror he had seen as his mouth frothed. Sanemi didn't have the energy to laugh at that even if he wanted to with how coarse his voice is.

No one is looking at Muichirou now - much to his happiness - because if they did, they might suffer the same fate as the poor Tomioka, who seems to be convulsing and at the edge of seeing Sabito beat his depressed shit.

"BOYS~"

All of the conscious men in the room stiffened at that forced, high-pitched voice. Afraid to even turn around to look at the owner in fear at what they might see.

Shinobu threw a handful of sakura petals as confetti in entrance. "We have returned with the new and improved;"

"KYOUKO-CHAN~”  Mitsuri gestured at Kyoujurou with jazz hands, giddy and happy as she made way for the beauty to enter.

Everyone swore a sun entered the room with how bright the flame pillar was, and as soon as the men delighted in the brightness that grant them blindness - it was soon over.

Only to be graced by Amaterasu-sama herself.

Obanai gripped his hair in disbelief, eyes ready to pop out of their skull. "NANTEKOTTA I?!?!?!?"

"WHOAAAAH." Tengen screamed - standing up and pointing at Kyoujurou in utter shock, spilling several sake at Giyuu and Muichirou who aren't paying attention. "SUGOI!!!"

Sanemi couldn't even move his eyes away from that beauty. "Fuck." Even if they feel like drying.

Gyomei only laughed at his comrade's reaction delightfully. "I told you so!"

Before tearing up at the thought that he couldn't see the beauty himself. Poor bb.

Everyone marveled at the goddess reincarnated, posing as he did while the Rengoku smiled at them so elegantly one could mistake him as a daimyo's daughter. (Exception for his hulking frame of course.)

"Arigatou gozaimasu~" Kyoujurou giggled in a venomously high-accented tone that scratched the men's ears to bleed.

The mirror of beauty the flame pillar once marveled, cracked loudly at the sound of his voice.

Obanai, Tengen and Sanemi's souls left their body out of shock. Their poor body couldn't handle such stress.

"Oh gosh!" Mitsuri gasped, before turning to the Rengoku with a wide, giddy smile. "Your beauty even made them faint! How lovely!"

Shinobu is shaking, biting her lips as she struggled to contain her laughter while gripping on her fellow (hair color)-haired pillar. Said pillar was still staring at their leader with clasped hands, eyes twinkling and tearing up at the goddess before her.

"You are so beautiful, Kyouko-hime." (Name) dried her tears with Shinobu's haori. "So marvelous."

Kyoujurou flipped his hair majestically, blond locks flowing behind his head like sunshine. "I know."

Yep. That's it.

(Name) converted to gayism.

Or lesbianism, depending who you ask.

 ---

"I feel an unsettling disturbance." Inosuke chirped on their futon - the bubble that was once blowing out of his boar nose popped.

Zenitsu groaned at being awakened and spat, "Don't you fucking always."

"Zenitsu!" Tanjirou scolded the blonde for cursing. "Not in the presence of my sister!"

"Fwucking."

The room grew cold.

The boys raised themselves up from their futon to look at Nezuko in disbelief. She's muffled by her bamboo muzzle, surely it isn't her, right?

Pink eyes closed in happiness at their attention and raised her baby hand in the air.

"Fwucking!" Her beautiful first words echoed around the room.

Zenitsu felt the burning stare of the older Kamado as he scrambled out of his futon - the hollowed laughter of Inosuke shooketh the whole Wisteria rest house.

"Zenitsu…" The roar of flames brightened the room as the burgundy boy took his katana.

"I hope you already recited your prayers."

Tanjirou smiled as he unsheathed his blade, looking down at his tearing companion with nothing but death screaming in his eyes.

Never did the poor blonde thought that a kind smile could literally kill.

part 1 of the bonding trilogy

#kny x reader #kny crack #muichirou #obanai #kyoujurou #shinobu #sanemi #tengen #giyuu #xreader #mitsuri #bonding trilogy #gyomei #kny pillars x reader #pillars x reader #pillars #kny pillars

[sincerelyreidburke]

A fic for day 2!

The 25 days of Kiersey continue! This is Thanksgiving-focused, but I wanted to get this one early in the countdown before Thanksgiving was too distant of an event. I’m counting this as a winter holiday.

For context, if you want or need it, here is a ficlet that will function as a faraway prequel to the events of the following fic.

In the summer between his sophomore and junior year, Quinn tours with a fictional production of a real Broadway show, Deaf West's Spring Awakening. I recently watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and decided that Quinn Cooper needed to be in on that action. Here's what happened as a result.

Heaven forgive me, for it is LONG under that cut! I saw the opportunity for Quindo fluff in New York City, and I ran with it, my friends. Featuring Quinn’s tour friend Kyra (in person, finally!), some stereotypical NYC tourism shit, and, of course, the actual Thanksgiving festivities.

///

Playbill.com

November 1st

Summer Cast of Deaf West’s Spring Awakening To Perform At Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

*

Tuesday

Kiersey, NH

 Technically, the official start of Quinn’s Thanksgiving break occurs at 1:15 on Tuesday, when his last class lets out. Walking across campus after he leaves the sciences building is, to be sure, a very freeing experience. But it’s not until he’s by the door at the house on Beech Street, with a packed bag over his shoulder and a train ticket in his pocket, that it truly feels like his break is beginning.

“I can’t believe you two are ditching out on Shaley Thanksgiving,” Ben tells him, shaking his head and mock-scowling, as he takes the keys to his Prius off a hook by the door. “After all I’ve done for you?”

Quinn smiles brightly, and offers Ben nothing but a shrug. “I’m sorry, Ben,” he hums, “but I’ll be thinking of you in spirit.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you, Mini.” Ben puts a hand to his heart, with all the snark in the world still in his eyes. “It’s almost for a moment like you’re not ditching to go to the big city.”

Quinn hums contemplatively, then glances at the time on his phone. “Sebastián,” he calls, and hopes his voice travels up the stairs. “We’ve got to go! The train’s in twenty minutes!”

“Twenty-four,” corrects Remy, as he walks to the door to join them with his own bag in tow. “You’ve got time, Q.”

Quinn knows he does have time, but as they say in the theater, on time is ten minutes early. He smiles at Remy anyway, and sighs. “I suppose we do, don’t we?”

Remy shrugs. “The train station is, like, two seconds away.”

This is also true.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Ben,” he adds, while they’re waiting. “Goodness knows I’m grateful for your mother’s hospitality.”

“It’s okay.” Ben smirks. “On the bright side, this year you won’t have to deal with her being weird.”

Mrs. Shaley does say odd things, most of them thinly veiled discomfort about his existence as an openly gay man (Quinn, you are just so stylish! It must just be natural for you people), but Quinn is still grateful that she had him to her house last year all the same.

Remy, who is going home with Ben again this year for the brief break, looks to him now, and asks, “Will we see you on TV?”

Quinn smiles— he can’t help it— and dusts off his knit scarf where it’s wound around his neck. “I certainly hope you will,” he replies. “So long as the parade is on, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“That’s awesome,” Remy says, with a smile of his own, and Ben adds, “I can’t wait to live-Tweet it and say I know you.”

He sighs into his hand. “Oh, Benjamin.” He’s about to call for Sebastián again— he did have the class that released the latest of all of them, so it makes sense he’s the last to be ready, but then again, he should have just packed last night— but before he can call him, the floor shakes with the unmistakable rhythm of him bounding down the stairs, and in another second, he’s joined them by the door.

“Sorry, baby.” With his backpack over his shoulder, Sebastián looks handsome enough that Quinn is willing to forget his previous punctuality stress. “I’m ready now.” He’s in his nice winter jacket, with the red scarf and matching hat, and he looks every bit prepared for the November streets of New York.

“Good,” Quinn says, simply, and fixes the way his scarf tucks into his jacket before he turns to nod at Ben. “We’re ready when you are, mister taxi service.”

“You’re an asshole,” Ben replies, “and let’s get outta here.”

The train station is only a three-minute drive from campus, and Ben and Remy drop them off there, with their own long drive to Providence awaiting them as they pull out of sight. Quinn feels as if he’s buzzing with adrenaline, with the excitement of the five days that lie ahead of them. Thanksgiving break may not be long, and in past years, it hasn’t been very eventful for him— freshman year, he stayed on campus, and last year at Ben’s house was nice but not particularly crazy— but this year is a whole new story.

This year, he gets a Thanksgiving break straight out of his wildest, most wonderful daydreams.

“Are you excited, cariño?” Sebastián asks him, as they’re waiting on the platform for the train, bundled up with their bags in the cold. Quinn feels like they’re at the start of a wonderful holiday movie.

“Of course I am.” He winds his arm up in his and remarks, “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was quite this excited.”

Sebastián smiles. Under his knit cap, his curls are just a little windblown. Quinn has never seen a more handsome sight. “I’m excited for you,” he says, and kisses his forehead, and this is going to be the greatest school break ever.

*

Wednesday

New York, NY

 On their first full day in New York, Quinn has rehearsals. This makes sense, because the whole reason they’re in New York in the first place is so that Quinn can perform. Nando doesn’t even have enough words for how proud he is of him, and the performance hasn’t even happened yet.

Quinn is up bright and early Wednesday morning. He’s headed to the hotel convention center downstairs, where he’s meeting up with his castmates from over the summer for the first time since he left tour in August. Nando rolls over in bed— it’s still dark out— and smiles when he feels him a kiss to his cheek on his way out. He reaches out of the covers and feels around until he can grab Quinn’s hand in the dark.

He squeezes it, three times— their wordless way to say I love you. Quinn returns the three squeezes, kisses the back of his hand, and then turns to go, a silhouette in rehearsal clothes as he leaves.

The bed feels empty without him afterwards, but it’s still dark outside the windows of the room, so Nando falls asleep for another little while and dreams of 

When he wakes again, he has an interesting situation on his hands: time to himself, in the middle of New York City. He’s never been here before, but he’s fully prepared to become a huge tourist so he can visit some of the food spots he follows on Instagram.

At a respectable hour, he gets up, gets dressed, and does just that in Quinn’s absence. A few very successful dessert-for-breakfast experiences later, he heads back to the hotel to FaceTime Mama and his sisters.

“Can we watch him on TV?” Gabi asks.

“Is he gonna be on one of the floats?” adds Rosa.

“Well, not exactly on a float,” Nando tells them, “but yeah, you can watch him on TV! I don’t know when he’s on, but he’ll know, so I’ll text you guys later.”

“Wish him luck for us,” Mama says, with a warm smile, and Nando smiles, too. It’s not that often you spend Thanksgiving in New York, when your family is thousands of miles away and your friends hundreds, but it’s also not often that your boyfriend, the love of your life, your favorite person in the entire world, is performing at the Thanksgiving Day Parade, so. Y’know.

Nando didn’t know it was possible to be this cheeky with pride.

At noon, he goes downstairs to pick Quinn up from rehearsal. He’ll have a busy Thursday, what with the parade and everything, but for the rest of the day, their time is entirely theirs.

It’s kind of easy to tell where the cast people are coming from, because one of Nando’s various acquired skills from the course the two years so far of this relationship is being able to spot Deaf people in public. It’s really not hard. Just watch for flying hands!

That’s how he spots Quinn— leaving the convention area, among his fellow Deaf West people, or— Kyra, actually, to be more specific. Nando hasn’t seen Kyra in months, since July, actually, when he met her on their Phoenix Spring Awakening tour stop. Her hair is different— in space buns instead of her afro— and she’s wearing a bright orange sweater, which, if her Instagram is accurate, is right in line with her sunshine aesthetic. She was amazing on tour; she’s such a talented person.

She walks side by side with Quinn, and they’re moving kind of slowly because they’re turned halfway toward each other to talk. Their hands move a mile a minute, and Nando knows a good amount of sign, but can’t keep up with this rapid conversation.

Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to. Quinn and Kyra seem to see him at the same time— and Kyra signs something he does understand, with this huge, bright smile. Literally, her sign means cactus and S, but Nando knows that’s just his sign name.

He waves across the lobby, then signs back to her— sunshine and K, for Kyra, and she lights up even more. She runs the rest of the way over, and Quinn goes after her.

How are you? he asks, and Kyra looks so excited that she almost jumps up and down.

They get to hold a small conversation in sign, and Nando loves catching up with Kyra but sort of loves even more how Quinn smiles as he watches them talk, like he’s glad they’re interacting, and it’s just— it’s wholesome. It’s great. Kyra is great, and he’s just so happy for Quinn that he gets to see her and all his tour friends again. He was sad to part with them at the end of the summer.

Kyra’s mom is in the city with her, so they part ways when she arrives; Quinn has another brief and very fast sign conversation with her as she’s leaving. Nando figures it’s probably just ‘see you tomorrow,’ but you never know.

“Baby,” he whispers, leaning down to him as they start side-by-side toward the elevator, “you have to hear about the churro I found this morning.”

Quinn laughs, and looks up to him, winding his arm in his elbow. Nando thinks they were meant to fit together this way. It’s so natural, and so easy. “I would love to hear about that.”

“I took pictures and everything,” he says, then pauses to press the button and hail the elevator. He looks to him again to add, “But also, how was rehearsal? Can I take you out to lunch?”

“Out to lunch?” Quinn swoons. “You must be trying to get in my good graces.”

He pretends to pout. “Am I not already in your good graces?”

Quinn swats at his chest. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

He kind of wants to point out that Quinn, rather than he, is the one who just got out of several hours of pro theatre rehearsal— but he guesses that would be telling him what he already knows. Instead, he grins and shrugs, then kisses his forehead. The elevator dings upon arrival. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, and they have a very good afternoon.

*

Thursday

 It’s absolutely frigid outside, and it’s six in the morning, and Quinn is having the time of his life.

He’s huddled on a couch with his castmates, in a trailer, waiting for the day to begin— though he supposes it’s already started, given his five o’clock wake-up call. He thought the tour was exciting, and truly, it was, but this is a whole other excitement entirely— being in New York, with so many performers all in one small place, knowing what lies in store for his day.

Life, he thinks, is maybe a dream come true right now. From coming here with Sebastián to getting to perform, there are so many things he’s grateful for, so many experiences he feels so lucky to have. This is no exception, as he sits in the trailer, with space heaters warming his feet and cast friends on either side. It’s like being back on tour, except this time, it’s one time only. He has to make it count.

And… yes. Quinn is decided. He is going to be completely obnoxious on Instagram today. To start it out, he nudges Kyra, who sits directly next to him, and opens the front camera on his phone.

Kyra lights up for the camera— she truly is the human embodiment of the sun, and Quinn is honestly a little jealous of how good and put-together she already looks at six in the morning. She’s wearing yellow earmuffs that sort of match the gold rims on her glasses, and she hooks an arm around his neck to lean into the picture. Her cheek is warm against his, and he laughs. On his other side, their friend Minji pushes into the camera, too, and flashes a heart at the camera with her thumb and pointer picture together.

Are you posting that? Minji asks, once he’s snapped the selfie.

He puts his phone down and grins. Obviously, I’m posting it.

He’s hunting for stickers to put it on his story when it becomes something of a ‘thing’— the various other friends and castmates around him realize he’s taking pictures, and then, right as he gets the selfie up on his story with a little turkey sticker, everyone is clustering for another.

Group shot!

Let us be on your Instagram!

Yeah, we need a reunion picture.

Hang on, he tells them, and laughs, then climbs up onto the edge of the couch. He faces them to add, I’m not tall enough for that, and while they laugh at his height’s expense, he rolls his eyes and opens his camera again.

Smile! he signs into the camera, and then clicks the button a few times so he’ll have options to choose from. This one should be a post, not a story, he decides. He thinks there are enough cast members in it to maybe send it to production staff. Not to pat himself on the back or anything. Really, he just wants to document these moments with his friends, while they’re all still in one place again.

Oh, you know what we should do? he says to Kyra, as he’s sitting down on the arm of the couch. A before and after picture, with costumes.

Kyra grins, and she nods. They did posts like that several times, over tour— a picture before you get costumed, and then the same picture but after you’re ready to go onstage. We should make a TikTok, Kyra says.

He laughs. Oh, goodness, he says, but he knows he’ll probably wind up doing just that. He has a feeling his social media will be quite alive and well by the end of the day today.

He wants to hold every part of this day in his memory, so he’ll never forget what this feels like.

*

It’s been three months since Quinn got to be Moritz Stiefel.

Though it took a lot out of him this summer, it’s a role he’s missed sorely, and he doesn’t usually get to go back to playing characters whose shows have come to a close for him. He supposes today is a bit of an exception, and, to be sure, he’s been excited for today since the very moment he learned this performance would be happening— but it’s not real, exactly, until he sees himself in a mirror, in costume.

He knows this version of himself, though he hasn’t seen it in awhile. His hair is mussed up, and the school uniform costume fits just as it’s supposed to, with a crooked tie and a tall pair of socks. He isn’t mic’d yet— that’s a step they’ll reach later this morning, with the sound technicians at the parade, and his hearing aids have been out for several hours; they’re tucked into his jacket pocket right now.

The mirror in the trailer is small, and he smiles at himself in it. He always likes this part, performing— when he gets to see himself as the character he’s going to be. Today, it’ll only be for five minutes— but five minutes of glory, on television, with his friends from the summer, and so they’re bound to be some of the most exhilarating five minutes of his life.

He doesn’t want to get a big head, but the fact that so many people will be watching… that’s a lot to take in. On the street, in person, Sebastián will be watching, too, and that’s something he’s very mindful of.

Kyra is putting flowers into her hair, at the small mirror next to him. He grabs his phone to wave it at her, and she grins, then signs for him to wait one second, so he does.

Just like old times, she says, when she’s done, and then lets him take their picture in the mirror. He sends it off to Sebastián first, then puts it on his steadily growing Instagram story.

It is just like old times. Quinn doesn’t want the day to be over, and it’s barely begun.

*

Of all the places he’s performed, Quinn has to say that the streets of New York City rank high.

The morning is a blur— move from place to place, let people tell you where to be, get briefed by tech people who know a lot more about what’s going on than he does. Comply, because that’s what you do. Warm up your voice. Take so many pictures that your phone starts to yell at you that it’s running out of storage.

From a distance, spot someone who looks an awful lot like your boyfriend on the side of the street. You can tell it’s him, because you knit that red scarf for him two Christmases ago. It’s his color, undoubtedly. Kyra signs his name at him from afar, but he doesn’t see either of you. Until you go on.

You get a little nervous, but you don’t have time to be nervous, because you’re on the move and you’re waiting to perform, and then— you blink, a rush of adrenaline, and it’s over.

And you just did what actors all over the country dream of doing.

There aren’t words for that in English or in sign.

*

Friday

 On Friday morning, when Quinn wakes up, it’s snowing.

He doesn’t realize it at first. He’s tucked beneath Sebastián in their hotel bed, waking from a sleep so deep and welcome it felt truly heavenly, buried between covers and warm weight. He opens his eyes to gentle, natural light in the room, a sure sign they slept in, and he blinks a few times before he realizes what he’s seeing in the nearby window.

Snow. So much snow, and falling fast. Goodness, it’s beautiful. The view isn’t bad, either; Manhattan is a sea of buildings, and this snapshot of glass is only a glance. The snow is so peaceful, coupled with the thought that they have nowhere to go, nowhere to be. After the dream come true that was yesterday— the parade, the performance, getting dinner with Sebastián and Kyra at some diner with no other patrons in the middle of the Thanksgiving afternoon— he could use to rest and reflect.

Quinn knows it’s cliché, but he truly does love this city.

He threads his fingers into Sebastián’s curls, and pulls his head close to his chest, and rests in bed while he watches the snow come down.

Some time later, when Sebastián has woken, he gets to spend a lazy, snowy morning in bed, and between gentle kisses, he tells him there’s nowhere else he would rather be.

*

Saturday

 “Can you keep up, baby?”

Nando knows a retort is coming before it even does, but he still grins when Quinn pipes up, from a few feet behind him, “Oh, you just mind your business, Sebastián; I am fine.”

As if to prove it, he closes the small space between them and skates up by his side. Nando knows that getting out on the ice and immediately taunting him was not practical, but it was entertaining, and he likes that Quinn’s cheeks are flushing now. He holds out his elbow, like a peace offering, and Quinn wraps his gloved hand up in it.

“You wanna take a winter stroll?” Nando asks him, with a wink down in his direction.

“This is hardly a stroll,” Quinn replies, in that know-it-all voice that drives Nando crazy in the best way possible. “It’s more of a glide,” he adds, and with that, they start skating along.

“That’s fair,” Nando replies, and tips his head up to take in the view.

He couldn’t spend any weekend even slightly related to the holiday season in New York City without going ice skating under the huge tree. Because first of all, it’s in every New York Christmas movie ever, and second, one of his and Quinn’s first dates was skating, and third, he fricking loves to skate, and fourth, this is his life, so there.

“This is breathtaking,” Quinn remarks, and that’s an understatement. There are enough lights on the tree to probably show up from space, and Nando has learned over the past few days how huge this city actually is, but being right here in the middle of everything just reinforces that truth. They skate along in the throngs of other people, which is part of the tourist experience, and honestly just makes it even better. Nando has seen this on TV so many times. He can’t believe he’s actually here. Pretty much everything about this weekend has been like some kind of dream situation where crazy things you imagine actually come true.

And speaking of dreams. He looks down to Quinn, and it’s, like, okay— cheesy, but the lights are all reflecting in his eyes, and he’s bundled in his scarf and peacoat, and he’s the prettiest thing Nando has ever seen. Including the giant tree. Including everything.

Quinn catches him looking. Of course he does. He smiles, rosy-cheeked and windblown, and hums, “What?”

“I love you,” Nando replies, and kisses him right in the middle of everything.

Quinn laughs out of the kiss. He stays tight on his arm, and somehow, they keep skating without falling. Nando thanks his hockey side for that.

“I love you, too,” Quinn replies, and his voice could block out all the noise of the whole city.

They’re the center of the world.

*

Sunday

Kiersey, NH

 The whole way home to Kiersey, Quinn sleeps on Sebastián’s shoulder.

It’s unintentional, but peaceful all the same, dreams full of memories of the weekend. He gets into his seat at Grand Central Station, slumps against him, and wakes to his gentle nudging hours later, so they can change trains in Boston. The next ride is shorter, but he rests again anyways, and the gray November day is dimming outside the train windows when he opens his eyes at the Kiersey station.

They walk back to campus— it isn’t far. Sebastián is holding both of their bags, and Quinn is holding nothing but his arm. It’s chilly, but bundled up, it isn’t so bad. With this boy, Quinn is so very warm. By the time they round the corner onto Beech Street, lines of student houses with warm windows stretching down either side of the familiar road, the sun has gone down.

On the front steps, Quinn pulls his hands out and looks up to him. He hasn’t had his hearing aids on in over twenty-four hours, and it’s been the most liberating and lovely experience. Before they re-enter the chaos of the hockey house and he’ll have to put them in again, he wants to sign him one last thing.

Thank you for joining me, he says, once he has his gaze. I love you so much.

Sebastián smiles. He puts the bags down by the door, rests both hands on his shoulders, and kisses him gently. No wintry breeze could stop the warmth in Quinn’s chest.

When he’s pulled back, Sebastián replies, I’d join you anywhere. I love you, too.

Quinn beams at him, and with one more shared, quiet moment, Sebastián picks up the bags, and Quinn leans into the front door and pushes it open. Hey, people! he reads on Sebastián’s lips, no doubt a loud exclamation, as they cross the threshold together. We’re home!

Home, indeed. Quinn closes the door behind them, and the warm, familiar, slightly chaotic embrace of Beech Street welcomes them back.

#25 days of kiersey #quinn theatre hours #mini quinny #nandoooooooo #quindo #quinn and dwsa #that should be a tag on this blog #my writing #ficlet #nah this is a straight up fic #whatever #uhhh #what else #kiersey college #crickets #mel writes

[redrebecca]

A Mendes Movie Night

(not my gif)

Because halloween without watching a scary film isn’t halloween, at least, not to Shawn.

A/N: So the amazing @fourtristattoos is doing this writing festival and I needed to sort myself out and write something, so here we are. Feedback is always appreciated, have a good day!

Words: 2.6k

*

You had to admit, Shawn had done well with this one. Unbeknownst to you, he had spent his day off last week walking around Toronto and scouring review websites to find a cafe that the two of you could visit regularly. It had your seal of approval the second you stepped inside. It was a small place hidden away a bit further down the street than you usually ventured. 

Shawn smiled at you as you took another bite of your pastry, holding back a laugh as he watched small pieces flake down the front of your jumper despite your best efforts to stop them. He was sure that if it hadn’t been for the small ding in his jean pocket he would’ve continued to stare at you. Tearing his eyes away, he glanced at the notification 

Mum: Your dad and sister are out tonight. Come over and watch a film with me later?

“Hey. Mendes are you even listening?” It took a rather firm nudge under the table for him to pull his eyes away from his phone and back to you. 

“Sorry, I got a text.” He said whilst passing his phone to you so you could also read the message. 

You did feel a slight pang of disappointment, after all you had been looking forward to a night full of cuddling, blankets and, well, Shawn. But you shook the feeling away, remembering that essay you needed to finish and a distraction (Shawn) free evening would be a perfect opportunity to get it out of the way.

“Yeh that’s fine, do you want me to make you something to eat before you go or is Karen cooking?” Knowing that if Shawn was visiting, his mum would definitely be cooking, you instead focused on what you could eat - the new chinese takeaway down the street looked like a great contender. Your food filled thoughts were interrupted by Shawn’s hand taking and gently squeezing yours.

“You’re coming with me.”

You shook your head and focused on your interlocked hands. “She asked you, not me.” In your periphery, you could see Shawn dip his head, trying to match your eye level. Before you could stop yourself, you let your eyes drift back to his, his lips curving into a soft smile in return.

“You’re always invited, you know that.” Not knowing how to bring up what you really wanted to say, you hummed and diverted your attention to your half eaten croissant, which had caught your eye the second you walked into the cafe. You felt his stare on you after you took a bite of your food. 

You took a moment to finish your mouthful before you spoke. “What?” Shawn kept his eyes on you for a little longer. When his stare became slightly unnerving, you reached forward for the handle of your mug, deciding that you might as well use the time (and your latte) to get the small pieces of pastry from your teeth.

“Why don’t you want to go?” At first, his question threw you a little. You swallowed.

“I have an essay I need to finish for class.” At his facial expression that screamed I really don't believe you, you continued “And you haven't seen your Mum in ages and I don’t want to interrupt anything.” You scanned his face for his reaction. When he nodded slowly and picked up his phone before presumably replying to Karen, you let out a tiny sigh of relief. He bought it. 

“Now,” He said, his voice unmistakably clearer than earlier. You watched as he set his phone down next to his cup and leant towards you, arms crossed and elbows planted on the table. His eyes narrowed. “Tell me the real reason you don’t want to go.” You bit your lip, hard, to stop yourself from groaning. Of course, whilst creating your plan, you’d forgotten to consider the fact that to Shawn, no matter how convincing you thought you were, you were as transparent as a pane of glass, if not more. 

You quickly surrendered your act, knowing you wouldn’t fool him. “When I said I'd never watch a horror film with your Mum again, I meant it.” A mix of emotions crossed his face, satisfaction that he was right about his suspicions and also an air of displeasure that he was right.

“Last time wasn’t that bad.” He protested.

“Shawn, I couldn't sleep for three nights, and neither could you if I remember correctly.” He opened and closed his mouth, but no argument he could formulate was going to be able to neutralise that statement. “Listen, when we get home I’ll bake her that cake she loves and you can give Karen it and tell her I’m sorry and that I-” During your rambling, you hadn’t noticed the buzz of Shawn’s phone or that he had picked it up and read the text.

“You can tell her yourself.” He said, stopping you mid sentence. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you didn’t catch onto what he meant.

“What?” He looked at you hesitantly, as if he was unsure of what your reaction would be. Which from past experiences, was never a good sign. You tilted your head and eyed him. “What did you do?” Shawn gulped

“I asked her if you could come,” Your eyes widened and his averted them. “And she said yes.” 

“Shawn!” You whisper-yelled across the table, keeping in mind that you were in a relatively quiet cafe, not in the comfort of any form of privacy. “What the hell?”

“Look I’m sorry, but if I have to suffer scary movie night with my Mum, you do as well.” You shook your head at him in disbelief and sat back in your chair. 

“Always so romantic.” You said sarcastically, knocking his ankle with your boot clad foot under the table. He yelped and glared at you whilst you blew him a kiss. “I love you very much, but I’m not going.”

*

“This isn’t a good idea.” You mumbled from underneath the scarf you had flung on before leaving your house. The box that held the still-warm chocolate cake was clutched in your hands as you and Shawn approached the front porch of the Mendes household. Shawn tugged his hand from his pocket to knock on the door.

“So it hasn’t changed since you last said it, which was, what? Three minutes ago?” He smirked when your response was once again muffled by the scarf. He cupped your cheeks and pushed the fabric down from your nose to your chin with his thumbs before he lifted an eyebrow, prompting you to speak. 

“Be cheeky once more, I dare you.” His smirk widened at your challenging stare.

“Or what? Are you gonna go home and leave me?” The sarcasm in his voice made you want to scream, but you bit it back knowing that a reaction like that would make his cockiness even more insufferable - which was not what you wanted. So instead you swatted his hands away and took a step back from him.

“You know what Mendes, I might just do that.” To your surprise, his smirk turned into a grin. A big toothy grin, that in other circumstances, you loved to see. But in this one, it meant he had found a loophole that was good enough to catch you out. In other words, checkmate.

“Well, I hope you wore your comfortable shoes because it’s a long walk back to Toronto.” At your, no doubt, confused expression, he jiggled his jacket pocket and you groaned when you heard the sound of clinking. “I have the car keys.” Before you could even think of a response, you were interrupted by the hollow click of the door. The warmth of Karen’s smile, and the house, was all you needed to forget the situation and rush inside, with Shawn at your heels. 

“I’m just gonna take the food out of the oven, you two can go through and make yourselves comfortable if you like.” Karen said before rushing off to the kitchen, leaving you and Shawn in the hall. You unzipped your coat and then your boots, purposefully avoiding Shawn’s looks or not-so-discreetly dodging him when he moved to ‘accidentally’ brush his hand on your arm. Whether there was a pout on his lips or not, you were confident he had got the message - you weren’t happy with him. After hanging your scarf next to your coat, you made your way to the living room. You did try to give Shawn a wide berth, but the size of the corridor and the length of Shawn’s ridiculously long limbs meant that when he reached out to grab your elbow, there wasn’t much you could do.

“Hey, c’mon you’ll be okay.” He murmured as he tugged you closer to him, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheek. You nodded and stepped into his arms, which without a moment of hesitation, tightened around you. The wool of his knitted jumper was scratchy against your skin and was probably leaving a strange mark on your cheek as you pressed yourself closer to him. “You know, if you get scared, you can just hold my hand. I promise I'll protect you.” For what seemed to be the 100th time that night, you groaned and lifted your head from his chest. 

“I hate you.” He hummed and leant down to leave a kiss on your nose.

“I love you too honey. Now let’s go and grab the blankets from my room.” He walked towards the stairs, looking back at you when you didn’t follow.

“The one with the monkeys on?” You grinned remembering the collections of blankets, that in your opinion, Shawn had owned for a bit too long. He smiled at your laugh.

“You bet.” Instead of going up the stairs like you expected him to, he stood perfectly still, never taking his eyes off you. The only thing that changed was the smile that was slowly but surely becoming a grin.

“What?” You asked warily.

“Race you!” Before you could take a step in his direction he was bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

*

The movie had been playing for about 30 minutes. Well, that’s how long you had counted on Shawn’s watch since it started. Deciding from the opening scene that this movie definitely wasn’t for you, you’d spent the last half hour fiddling with his fingers, the rings on his fingers, the sleeve of his sweater and the clasp on his watch (The one you’d tried on about 10 minutes in. That was before you had remembered Shawn telling you how much he had bought it for. It was fair to say you were quick to slide it back onto his wrist after that particular recollection). 

Admittedly, by one hour and five minutes you were getting bored of doing - to put it simply - nothing. At some point you had tugged a bit too hard at one of the loose threads on Shawn’s jumper and had panicked, fearing that it would all unravel at your fingertips if you tried to fix it - therefore leaving you with one less distraction. And eventually you had estimated the individual cost of the pieces of his jewelry, none of which you would consider to be a sensible price to pay, so you had concluded it was probably best if you kept your popcorn grease covered fingers far, far away from them. So you had ended up staring at the wall and reminiscing about how nice Karen’s roast dinner was, because damn that woman could cook.

However it was during your stare-at-the-wall thoughts that you realised that you hadn’t noticed Shawn jump. Not even once. Did that mean it wasn’t that scary? 

Soon enough you had convinced yourself that you were going to watch the movie. After all, your momma didn’t raise a quitter, and it wasn’t real - a statement that had been mentioned many times in your inner pep talk. Taking a deep breath, you turned your head towards the screen and reached for some popcorn out of the bowl in Shawn’s lap.

*

1 jump scare. 

That was all it took to break down your facade. 

One moment you had been sitting calmly, silently amazed that you had managed to keep your composure for so long, and then the next, you have your face hidden in the crook of Shawn’s neck with his arm anchoring you next to him with your heartbeat pounding so loudly you were confident that Shawn could hear it never mind feel it.

“You okay honey?” He whispered into your ear, running his hand up and down your thigh in an attempt to calm your racing pulse.

“I’m scared.” You said against his neck. He didn’t move for at least a minute after the words left your mouth so you assumed he hadn’t heard them. That was until you felt his fingers interlock with yours. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

“There’s only 20 minutes left. Can you wait that long?” You slowly nodded and moved your head so your cheek was pressed to his chest instead of his neck. You nodded and closed your eyes as he began to play with your hair.

*

“Okay bye! Love you both!” Karen shouted from the front door as you and Shawn walked towards the car. You both turned to wave goodbye as she closed the door before quickly returning to cuddling into each other as another gust of wind blew past you.

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight.”

“Neither am I.” You replied. Shawn stopped walking and stared at you, a look of disbelief on his face.

“What do you mean? You watched two minutes of it!” 

“I watched more than two minutes!” 

“You didn’t watch enough to give you nightmares.” He argued back.

“No you idiot, I meant that if you aren’t gonna get to sleep I doubt I will either.” You dipped your chin so your scarf covered your nose and cheeks as another burst of freezing cold wind made you shiver. You peered up at Shawn from under your hood to see he was smirking at you. He sauntered closer to you.

“What are you suggesting we’re gonna do?” He said and you could actually hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut up, I didn’t mean that. I meant that when you can’t sleep you get whiny and then I can’t get to sleep either.” 

“I do not get whiny.”

“You do.” 

“No I don’t” Quickly realising where the conversation would head if you continued, you walked towards the car.

“C’mon Shawn, it’s freezing.” You tugged on the door handle. “Open the car.” 

He held the keys up and swung them around his index finger. “Take it back.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Say that I don’t get ‘whiny’” He mimicked your voice in the way he knew you couldn’t stand. If it were warmer, you would refuse. But you weren’t so sure you could last too long in the wind - frostbite slowly becoming one of your concerns as your fingers on the handle turned a strange colour.

“Fine, you don’t whine.” He waited for a second before he nodded his approval and pressed the button on his keys. The hollow click was all you needed to hear before you swung the car door open.

“You just turn into a crybaby.”

“Hey!”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn x reader #shawn x you #spookytattoosfestival #my writing

[justthehiddleswrites]

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 7 | Snowball

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary:  Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

This chapter:   Tom makes his feelings know but does Tamra feel the same? And where do they go from here? 

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

-

As Tom pressed Tamra against him, electric shocks traveled from his lips to his toes. Tamra’s other hand moved to the back on Tom’s head, tangling in his ginger locks along the nape of his neck. He tasted of chocolate and mint. They sighed against each other and parted. Tom panted as he pushed his forehead against hers.

“Um…” Tamra panted as she twirled Tom’s hair in her fingers. “That was…”

“Yeah… ah.. so…” Tom stood up straight, searching her face for a smile, a wink, something to show him she returned his feelings.

“Um… so… you kissed me.” Tamra asked, pushing away to face Tom head on. She stood emotionless, her face a mask of all emotion.

“I did.” Tom flushed as he started to pull away, wringing his hands in front of him.

“Why?” she questioned.

“I did say I was a man of action.” Tamra’s face remained unmoved. The smile dropped from Tom’s face, and he felt a wave of guilt and embarrassment at the whole situation. He clearly read the room wrong. “We can just forget that ever—”

Tamra grabbed him and pulled him into another embrace. He returned the kiss and sighed against her and Tamra followed suit. Tom slipped his tongue in and Tamra moaned in his embrace. Their embrace grew more heated as Tom’s hand slid down from Tamra’s neck, past her shoulders, skimming her curves before lighting on her waist.

“So…” Tom panted as they parted. “You kissed me.” He stood confused.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

Tamra’s lips curled into a small smile. “You said you like a woman who takes charge. So… I took charge of the situation.” Her hands never left his neck.

His eyebrows rose as his mouth fell open. “I find myself lying awake at thinking about the next time I will see you. I can’t sleep. Hence the dark circles. It’s all your fault.”

Tamra giggled. “Are you blaming me for your lack of sleep?”

“Yes. You don’t know the effect you have on me.”

“And you… like you don’t know how ridiculously charming you are? I still hate Christmas but I can’t help but enjoy our time together.” Tamra huffed.

Tom smiled as he raised a hand to cup her cheek. “You think I’m charming?”

“You know you are. And handsome.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Tom smiled, raising now the other hand to cup Tamra’s other cheek.

“Did I say handsome? I meant incorrigible and ridiculous and… and…” Tamra stammered as her eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape.

“Darling…” Tom whispered as he kissed her once again, this time tender. His thumbs ran across her cheeks. Her hands raked through his curls.

“So where do we go from here?” she asked.

Tom opened his mouth, but his stomach growling stopped him from speaking.

“First, we need to eat some dinner. We skipped lunch. Again.”

Tamra rolled her eyes until her stomach growled. She pulled her arms around her midsection, willing her stomach to cease its loud yawing. Tom laughed.

“And then…”

“And then…” he gave a quick peck to her lips. “Whatever we want.

Tom led Tamra to the kitchen where he fished out a small collection of takeaway menus.

“So I was right about not cooking.”

“Guilty as charged. Pick a menu.”

Tamra shook her head. “You pick. I trust you.”

“A horrible choice.”

They spent the rest of the evening eating, watching movies on the couch and snuggling under the blankets. Tom yawned as Tamra clicked the movie.

“It’s late.” she commented about the hour. “You must be exhausted.”

She stood and turned to head to the guest room. Tom grabbed her wrist, preventing her exit.

“Stay with me tonight.”

She looked down at him. Her brow furrowed. “I am staying with you. We’re snowed in. Remember?”

Tom stood to meet her eyes. He released her wrists and laced his fingers with her. “No. I mean stay with me tonight. Not two doors down the hall. Not in the guest room. In my bed, next to me. I need you near me.”

Tamra chewed on her lower lip, considering the proposal. Tom dropped his chin and looked at her through his lashes, his eyes begging and pleading her to say yes. She gave his a hand a squeeze.

“Okay.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

Tom led her to the master bedroom, and they ended up buried under blankets and sheets. Tom sat up reading a script for a potential project. Tamra continues to read the book from the night before.

“Tom?” she asked in soft tones. He didn’t respond.

She turned to find him fast asleep, script slipping from his hand, his breath deep and even. Tamra went to his side of the bed and took the glasses from his face, placing them on the nightstand. She followed with the script, keeping his place. Finally, she cradled his head to lower the pillows flat. She brushed an errant curl from his forehead and press her lips to Tom’s forehead.

“Goodnight Tom.”

Tom rolled onto his side as she clicked the lamp off. “Goodnight darling.”

-

Tom awoke the next morning to find himself snuggled against Tamra’s back, arms wrapped around her. Tom hummed and sighed as he enjoyed the weight and warmth against his chest. He felt at peace and for the first time in days, refreshed. His alarm disrupted the blissful moment, and he turned to shut the sound off before it woke Tamra.

With much reluctance, Tom rolled out of bed and dressed for his walk. He fed Bobby and headed out the door after leaving a note in case Tamra woke up before he returned. On his run, his mind raced through everything that transpired over the past several days. He panicked for a moment at what would happen after the holidays ended and Tamra needed to leave but he pushed that troubling thought away for the time being. Tom returned and found Tamra still asleep. He headed to the shower.

-

“Now that is a sight I could get used to in the morning.” Tamra commented as Tom stepped out from the bathroom, his towel slung low on his waist.

Tom chuckled. “I agree 100%.” He leaned to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “A lovely, beautiful woman in my bed. Smiling up at me. You spoil me.”

Tamra moved so Tom could take a seat next to her.

“What do you want to do? Which museum today?”

Tamra thought about the day ahead. “Why don’t we skip the museums for a day? You pick.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “I know just the thing but first we need you to get dressed and go by your flat to pick up some clothes for you because you can’t wear my shirt outside.”

“But I make this look good.”

Tom kissed her, pulling her down on top of him. “You do.” he pecked her lips once, twice, three times. “But it is not suitable for snow. Would you settle for a borrowed hat, scarf, and gloves?”

“Fine.” Tamra stood. “Let me get dressed.” She left the room.

“You could use the bathroom in here!” He yelled in the general direction of the hallway.

“But it smells like boy!” a disembodied voice yelled back.

Tom took Bobby out to the backyard to run around in the accumulated snow. Bobby bounded through the thick blanket of white with balls of snow gathering on his fur, making him resemble a pom-pom monster.

“What a mess, boy.” Tom scolded as he brushed as much snow off of Bobby’s coat.

Bobby barked as if in agreement. Tom smiled as he petted Bobby’s back. “What do you think about Tamra? Is she a keeper?”

Bobby barked again and jumped into Tom’s chest, rocking him back and almost off his feet. “Me too, boy. Me too.”

Tom headed into the house and found Tamra standing in the living room, spying out a nearby window.

“A little male bonding time?” she chuckled as Bobby bounded in ahead of Tom, jumping at Tamra’s legs.

“Something like that. He is quite taken with you.”

Tamra knelt down to scratch behind Bobby’s ears. “He is a sweetheart.” Tom’s smile reached his eyes as he looked down at the two of them. “Much like his owner.”

“A high compliment coming from you.” Tom grabbed her jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”

Tamra gave Bobby a final scratch and took off for the door. Bobby gave a whine as Tom and Tamra gave a wave on their way out.

-

They stopped by Tamra’s flat first, so she could change into some fresh clothes and put on the one pair of boots she brought with her. Tom packed her suitcase into the back of the car.

They stopped by for more pastry and coffee and then walked over to the nearby park.

“So what about your family?” Tom asked as they sipped coffee and navigated the icy path.

“What about them?”

“Well, you’re here and they’re not. At Christmas. Surely you are not an entire family of Scrooges.”

Tamra snorted. “No. You and my mother could compete for the Christmas spirit stick. Fully decked out trees, the tree up the day after Halloween. The whole works.” Her nose crinkled in an expression Tom now recognized as a sign of distaste.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Tom bumped into her shoulder.

“I don’t think I could handle two Buddies in my life. You are bad enough on your own.”

Tom took a big sip of his coffee before taking her hand and leading her around a patch of black ice. “You don’t know what you are missing out on.”

“I’ll take my chances. What about your family? Are they bundles of boundless energy just like you?” She turned to see Tom throw his head back in laughter.

“Hardly. They are normal bundles of energy. And my sisters constantly remind me I am nothing special.”

He gave her hand a squeeze as they finished up their coffee. Tom grabbed Tamra empty cup and walked to a nearby trash can.

“Sounds like my kind of girls.”

“You are never meeting them. I would never survive the onslaught.” Tom commented over his shoulder.

He noticed Tamra’s back turned to watch a group of kids have a snowball fight. His eyes twinkled as his gaze darted to the fresh snow in front of him.

Splat!

“EEEK!” Tamra squealed as a snowball hit her square in the back. She whipped around to find Tom bent over in a fit of laughter.

He didn’t see the snowball until it landed on his shoulder, exploding into shards of white.

“Hey!” Tom’s eyes narrowed as he shot off towards Tamra. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Only if you catch me!” Tamra ran as Tom barreled towards her.

They both made hasty snowballs as they ran towards the center of the park. Their throws going wide as they continue chase, Tamra lobbing snowballs over her shoulder.

Tom’s running background comes into play and his long stride helped as he gained on Tamra.

“Gotcha!” he triumphed when he made it within arm’s reach of Tamra.

His fingers grazed her sleeve, and he gained purchase on Tamra’s wrist. He whipped his arm to snap Tamra back towards him. She pivoted to face him but her momentum sent her straight into Tom’s chest.

“Aah!” Tamra clambered as she and Tom tumbled into a deep bank of snow.

“Oof.” Tom’s breath left him as Tamra landed on top of him. His hands shot out to steady her. “Got you.”

Tamra smiled down at him and Tom brushed her now snow soaked hair out of her face to gaze into her hazel eyes.

“Truce?” he asked not letting up on his grip on her.

She leaned down and kissed him. He used his grip to pull her closer, not caring if anyone saw or that his coat soaked with snow. They parted. “Truce.”

Tamra pushed herself to standing and offered her hand to Tom. He took it and stood. Tamra wrapped her arms around Tom.

“Tom?”

“Yes, darling.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Have I ever told you…” she paused to look down at her boots. “… that I lie?”

Tom’s eyes widened as Tamra’s face grew into an evil smile and she shoved a hidden handful of snow down his shirt.

“OOoo!!” Tom jumped at the cold wet running down his back. His blue eyes flashed at Tamra and she took off running. “Never trick the trickster!”

“Loki can’t save you now!”

The two of them continued taunting and throwing snowballs until both of them were soaked to the bone and out of breath. They returned to the car, blasting the heat on the way back to Tom’s place.

“Brrr.” Tom exclaimed as he peeled his jacket off and then his sweater and shirt. “You fight dirty.”

Tamra stared as Tom stood shirtless and her pulse raced. “So do you.”

Tom took a step forward. Tamra shivered at the proximity of him. “You’re shivering.” He raised his hands to rub up and down her arms.

“Not helping.”

A whisper of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Does this help?” He tugged her into his chest.

His warmth bled through Tamra’s thin sweater. Her heart raced, and she felt Tom’s race and he pulled her into a passionate kiss. He huffed as he nipped at her lips. Tamra moaned against him. Their chests heaved as Tom pulled away, his bated breath fanning across her cheek.

“Better?” Tom whispered.

“A little.” Tamra whispered back. She stared into Tom’s eyes, his pupils blown and his lips hungry.

“How about a hot shower?” his intention clear by his tone.

She nodded. “Sounds… nice.”

Tom smiled as he kissed her again, more heated and more urgent. He led her towards the master bedroom, unaware of the notifications going off on his phone in his discarded jacket.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #bah hiddleston

[teffyjeffy]

Fabric Tears (Part 3)

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

With the sudden task to redecorate the dining room for a tea party materializing in front of everyone, an aura of calmness had settled within the Corduroy household, much to Wendy's relief, Mabel's joy, and Dipper's confusion.

First off, the winter garb finally came off, now that there was no longer the threat of a bear running away while the coats were being removed. Dan was more than happy to house them in the closet located near the entrance. The closet, which originally was only keeping plaid colored jackets in there, now had a splash of color with the trio's coats added to the rack. 

The three Corduroy brothers returned in record time with a box of Candyleaf, and whole bunch of other boxes of tea flavors. They all talked over each other with excitement, talking about how the ghostly couple were so thankful for the boy's good manners that they were allowed to the other boxes for free. Dan roared with good natured laughter and got a second kettle of water boiling.

Wendy and Mabel were taking turns between keeping an eye on Mr. SnuggleLots and setting the table up. Mabel made sure to throw a bunch of cute stickers on the tea cups. Wendy taught the bear how to play card games, and thankfully, cards were not in Mr. SnuggleLots's diet.

Dipper and Frisk were taking a break, sitting at the bottom steps of the stairway and watching Mabel, Wendy, and everyone else running around and transforming the dining room into a top quality tea set for Mabel's wild tea party plan. Dipper and Frisk were also using this opportunity to keep an eye on the pets, with Dipper holding onto Waddles, and Frisk giving lovely head scritches to Toby

"Back in the summer, I bet I would've chopped the poor bear's head off by this point or something," joked Dipper.

"I have a feeling you would've faced some resistance from Mabel if you tried that," replied Frisk, holding the torn scarf in their hands and making sure that Toby was far away enough to not consider biting it.

Dipper laughed, setting Waddles down to give himself a moment to stretch his arms. "Yeah, probably. Still though... I don't know if she would have come to this crazy conclusion to throw a tea party if she hadn't met you. Maybe instead, she'd have... pfft, I dunno, encased him in ice and shipped him off to the North Pole?"

"It feels like any scenario is possible if Mabel is behind it," teased Frisk.

"Just her, huh? Sounds like someone's picking favorites," laughed Dipper, giving the child ambassador a playful shove on the shoulder.

"Maybe I am~ Are you willing to prove to me that you are the sibling who's worth more of my attention than your sister?"

"Ohhhhhh no, don't go there. Last time Mabel and I had that kind of dispute, things got... pretty ridiculous. I've hated carpets ever since..."

"If you're going to continue being secret about your stories, you should stop hooking people in like that. I was all down for letting your story remain untold, and then you bring up this sudden hatred for carpets? You have captivated me, Dipper."

The stairway softly echoed with the barks of Toby, the snorts of Waddles, and the chuckles of Dipper and Frisk... when another sound made its way to Dipper's ears.

It sounded like... sobbing. From upstairs.

"Everything okay, Dipper?" asked Frisk with a tilt of the head. "You got awfully quiet."

"I'm going to check up on Toriel. Call me if Mabel needs me," Dipper suddenly declared, making his way up the stairs.

"Huh? Dipper, wait-" began Frisk, but Dipper was already gone. Giving a sigh of uncertainty, Frisk resumed watching the rest of the group set up the table while the pets messed around.

Dipper was able to find Wendy's room pretty quickly, having memorized to route to get there, which he was embarrassed to admit. Without thinking, we twisted the knob and opened the door.

"Toriel, what's wrong? I heard... sobbing..........."

The room was almost completely dark, the only light source in the room coming from the paused image on Wendy's television. And there, sitting on Wendy's bed, legs folded and drawn in to her chest, was Toriel; her eyes were puffy and red, there was a prominent trail of tears on both of her cheeks. Even Papyrus could have deduced that the Ex-Queen had been crying.

Not wanting to stare, Dipper shifted his attention to the television set. The image on the screen appeared to be a home recording of some sort, the kind taken with a big vintage video camera. The background depicted a well maintained house with a wooden floor and fireplace. In the foreground...

There was a little goat kid, eyes wide with wonder, and tears welling up at the bottom of those eyes. He had white soft-looking fur, a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and just... the purest smile that Dipper had ever seen. Pure enough to rival Mabel's 1000-watt grins.

Toriel's yelp of shock jolted Dipper back to the present moment.

"Dipper! I- I wasn't- that is, I didn't... I didn't anticipate that anybody would need me so soon-"

"Nonono, it's my fault, I... I thought you were in trouble and I came running in-"

They both eventually stopped talking over one another and a thick silence fell on them.

"...........I- I'll go-" Dipper started.

"No, it's-" began Toriel, her voice hitching.

...

Toriel continued. "Frisk has... told me about you. How your curiosity tends to drive you."

"Well um... it's not something I'm proud of exactly... but yeah, I'd say that description fits me."

The awkward silence returned, but this time the intensity was a little lighter.

Dipper was the one to break it this time. "Listen, you don't need to tell me anything, my curiosity should not be a factor in this-"

"I appreciate that, Dipper. But let's be honest. If I had you leave now, things will be awkward afterwards, and they'll stay awkward for who knows how long. I.... I might as well tell you, now that you've already seen it."

For one last moment, silence filled the room, the only audible sound being the buzz of the old television set.

"......please come in," finished Toriel.

Not a word was spoken as Dipper warily entered Wendy's room and shut the door behind him, submerging the room in near-total darkness once more, minus the light shining from the TV. Toriel looked down to the floor. She said nothing, but slowly lifted the paw that held the remote... and hit 'play.'

"M-mom?! You made this for me?! It's gigantic! I want it! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha! I know, it looks delicious, doesn't it! But that's no excuse to forget your manners. How do you ask for things that you want, my child?"

"Mom, may I please eat the cake?"

"Nope!"

"What?!!!? B-but you said... you said that I-!"

"Aha ha ha ha! I'm just teasing you my child! Before I can let you dig in though, your father and I need to sing for you!"

"That song again?? You sing it every year though, ha ha!"

"Maybe. But it is a tradition~ And it's worth singing for you, my bundle of sunshine~"

"Stoppit mommmmmm! You're embarrassing me!"

"Hush now, little one~ And close your eyes~"

The image suddenly went dark, and Dipper realized that the lights had been switched off in the household... then the screen lit up again, by candles being lit on the cake. The light gave the goat child a very calming orange glow. He looked so... happy.

"Okay! You can open them now!"

And he did. Dipper watched him gasp... somehow, the goat child's smile managed to get even bigger.

"♫Happy Birthday to you ♫..........♫Happy Birthday to you♫.......... ♫Happy Birthday dear-"

"Asriel" mouthed Dipper.

His lips had moved before his brain, or heart, or even his voice could process it. But he just knew. This was him. This... was Asriel. The child that Frisk had tried to save... and lost.

Dipper vaguely noted that at some point, tears had welled up in his eyes and they were currently trailing down his cheeks.

"...Happy Birthday tooooooo yooouuuuuuuuu~♫ Make a wish, little one!"

The video went still again. Dipper looked up to see that Toriel had hit the remote's pause button once more, the small box silently trembling in her paw. She dropped the remote, buried her face in her tear-stained sleeves, and let out the most gut wrenching wail that Dipper had ever heard. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. And bless her heart, she let him.

"He.......... he was everything..." whimpered Toriel after what felt like hours of weeping in Dipper's arms. "He was full of life... every day was filled with his cries and his laughter... the plan was when he was old enough to become a prince, we were going to surprise him with a throne that was just... covered with honey suckles. Asriel always... always loved those honey suckles..."

Dipper could not say a word. What could he say? He had never endured the loss of a loved one. He came awfully close to losing Mabel at the hands of him, but unlike Toriel, Dipper got lucky. He had his great uncles to thank for protecting him and his sister. But it appeared that Toriel did not have such luck...

Toriel sniffled. "You remember earlier when Mabel said she was willing to share her candy with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth, right Dipper?"

"I remember."

She gave a sad laugh. "Well... this is the day when I remember how lousy of a mother I was. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him... and I didn't. I'm no cool mother. I'm not even a good one... I... I was powerless, Dipper."

All Dipper could do was tighten the hug. Nothing could be said. Toriel Dreemurr was going through something that Dipper could never fathom, and part of him hoped that he would never come to learn it.

      There was suddenly a gentle creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak that shook the two out of their hug.

It was Frisk.

Nobody said anything for a while. All that could be heard was the clinking and clattering of silverware downstairs.

"...The tea is ready," finally spoke Frisk. "Mabel is expecting all of us to attend. I can let her know if you need more time th-"

Toriel shook her head. "N-no, I'm alright. You said tea is ready?"

"Yes, correct," affirmed Frisk. They watched as Toriel remained tense. They gave a quick glance to the television screen, before looking back to their mother.

"...The plan was to talk once this was all over, correct?" said Frisk reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything then, I promise. But first, I'd like to have some tea. Mabel will be furious if anyone lets their cup get cold."

"R-right... Yes... Yes of course," said Toriel, standing up from the bed and dusting herself off. "Tell Mabel I'll be right down."

"Yes Mom," said Frisk with a hint of a smile, disappearing from view as they climbed back down the stairs.

"Well... I'll see you downstairs Dipper," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "Mind shutting the TV off for me?"

"I don't mind at all, Toriel. See you down there," said Dipper with a wave, watching as Toriel disappeared from his view.

There was... a lot to process from that exchange. But it would have to wait for now. Dipper reached forward to press the TV's on/off switch...

...when something on the monitor caught his eye.

The dim background made it hard to see, but Dipper swore that there, sitting in a chair, was another child.

A human child.

...

Dipper hit 'play.'

"I wish that I can stay best friends forever with-!"

"Oh come on Asriel, you wished for that last year. Wish for something else this time, sheesh."

"Hey! That was rude!" said Asriel, seeming to be both shocked and tickled by the remark. "You're such a meanie sometimes, Cha-"

And then there was static. The videotape had reached its end.

                ...

Filled with questions that he knew he'd have to wait until the right moment to ask about, Dipper turned the TV off and finally left Wendy's room.

Dipper was met with a very lively spectacle.

Dan was pouring cup after cup of various tea flavors, handing them to Mabel and Wendy (both wearing heat resistant gloves) who fanned out to place each cup in front of 11 different seats at the dining room table. Toriel had already sit herself down at one of the seats, but had opted to wait until everyone was seated before she began sipping her tea. Toby and Waddles were running around underneath the table, darting under some chairs and darting around others. The boys and Frisk were gathered in the living room, Frisk eagerly listening to a story that Marcus was telling about how he once managed get himself a gigantic fish from the lake (while Kevin and Gus acted it out in the background to hype up the tale) and all four of them were smiling and laughing. Sitting at the end of the table, his beady eyes taking in the entire scene, was Mr. SnuggleLots.

"Dipper! Welcome back!" said Mabel as she noticed her awestruck brother. She walked up to him and took him by the hands. "Welcome to the tea party! Your seat is right over here next to Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't worry, he hasn't been biting anything since he ate my half of Papyrus's scarf. Come on, this way!"

Dipper let himself be guided by Mabel as she sat him down at his seat. Now that he was at the table, he noticed all of them had a designated name. Starting from Dan's seat, and working clockwise, the seats were as follows.

Daniel

Marcus

Gus

Kevin

Toriel

Frisk

Mabel

Mr. SnuggleLots

Dipper

Wendy

Francine

...Francine? Who was-?

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" Hollered Dan, clinking a glass so hard that it sounded like swords clashing. "THE TEA PARTY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND ON BEHALF OF THE MABEL PINES ORGANIZATION-"

"Yes my friends, that is actually a thing!!!" piped Mabel.

"-WE HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE! NOW, DRINK UP!"

Everybody swarmed the table, plopping down in their designated seats and engaging in lively conversation. The Corduroys, minus Wendy, clashed their mugs together like they were beer mugs, then blew on their cups and gently sipped on them because they were actually hot mugs of tea, not cold jugs of beer. Toriel was giggling as Frisk had managed to get roped into another story that Mabel was telling to Mr. SnuggleLots, whose reactions were proving that he could always understand English like Dipper hypothesized. Looking elsewhere, the boy was pleased to notice that Toriel was looking more and more like her old self, and Wendy seemed to be lighting up from the calm but animated gathering. Dipper couldn't help but smile, happy to see that Wendy was starting to recover from her frustration from the recent lack of sleep.

But in the midst of this discussion, Dipper noticed that the seat of Francine was still vacant.

"Wondering about the empty seat, kiddo?" Wendy spoke up, Dipper tearing his gaze away from the seat to look at her.

"Um... y-yeah I suppose," said Dipper, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Is it..."

"A seat for my mom? I'm afraid so, champ," said Wendy, giving a gentle smile and taking a hearty sip of her tea now that it had cooled down enough. "Francine Corduroy. Better known by her nickname, Manly Fran."

Dipper looked down, not knowing how to reply. As he looked up, he saw Toriel on the other side. She appeared to have overheard the conversation.

"Manly Fran?" repeated Dipper.

"Yep, believe it or not, my dad was always a fan of tea time. His masculine attitude was a rather late addition. It's how he makes sure that her legacy lives on, I suppose. Though I bet that most of what he does nowadays would just make my Mom howl."

"Did she enjoy tea?" Toriel blurted, before putting a paw to her mouth. It seems she didn't mean to speak out loud.

"Oh she loved it, especially if Dad was the one who made it," Wendy gave a warm laugh. "Her adoration for it is the reason my dad didn't abandon it when she passed..." she takes her napkin and gently dabs at her eyes. "It's our way of honoring her. We do this every memorial. It is... one of my favorite nights every year. It's cool that we managed to find an excuse to do it tonight, but... it just wouldn't feel right to have it without that one empty seat, even if this one isn't for her, you know?"

"I assume that the atmosphere here is... a lot less lively during the day of her passing..." Toriel's voice quivered near the end.

"Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth," snorted Wendy in laughter. "If anything, tonight's positive vibes are subdued compared to the anniversary of her passing. The whole day is filled with stories, memories, laughs, and endless tea for anyone who asked for it. I know it seems backwards to be that jovial during a day of remembrance for a dead family member who was a part of all of our lives- and don't get me wrong, there is a fair share of crying as well- but hey... if we're gonna remember her every year, we all knew that it would be better, and healthier in the long run, to fill the day with as many smiles as there are tears."

Wendy tilted her eyes towards the ceiling. She gave a kiss to the air, gestured her mug to it, and finished the rest of her tea. "Ahhhhhh..."

"That's... that's incredible," said Toriel, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, the tea was cold enough at this point," Wendy assured. "If it was fresh from the kettle, there's no way that-"

"No, I mean... the way your family honors your late mother. It's....... I've never thought of it that way. 'As many smiles as there are tears...'"

"Words straight from my Old Lady," said Wendy, leaning back in her seat.

Toriel looked down, silent. She witnessed her reflection in the steaming liquid. She managed a smile. "Wise words to be sure. I would've loved to meet her."

"She would've loved to meet everyone here," said Wendy with a courteous smirk, before heading out of her seat to quickly pour herself a second mug.

The topic of Francine drifted off soon after, and eventually everyone was back to jovial discussions that were occasionally sprinkled with a bark or a yip. All the while, the smile on Mr. SnuggleLots's face never wavered.

About an hour and a half passed before the mood died down enough to declare that the table should be cleared off. The kids had reconvened to discuss the night.

"I guess we managed to check off almost all the boxes on your Rehabiliteddy Program™, Mabel," said Frisk.

"Oh right, I forgot that that program had multiple steps," said Dipper, proving that Mabel had relied on this program before.

"Right... we still have no idea if this guy has an owner out looking for him," reminded Mabel.

"Or whether or not the owner ever want's him back," cautioned Frisk.

"Or even whether or not the owner is a human, or a bear, or something else entirely," added Dipper.

The kids went silent, stewing in all the questions that were unanswered.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Everybody in the house froze. Toby started growling at the front door. 

"Helloooo?!" came a muffled, ragged voice of an elder woman from the other side of the door. "Pardon the disturbance! I just need to know if something passed this way! A Teddy bear to be specific! One that's alive, to be more specific!"

The kids shared a glance at Mr. SnuggleLots who was being playfully tossed around by the Corduroy brothers. Did the voice truly belong to the bear's owner?

Frisk shimmered orange for a second, deciding that there was only one way to find out. "I'll get the door."

"Wait, hang on a second, Frisk-!" tried Dipper.

But Frisk had already marched toward the door and opened it.

On the other side was a heavily hunching, stubby old woman. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and had a sickly green complexion. Her hair was gray to the point of looking white, and there was a cobweb or two that was nestled in her shabby locks. And she was wearing a tattered cloak that was decorated with two giant shadows of disembodied hands.

"Hand Witch!!!" cheered Mabel, recognizing the kind hag.

"Well welllllllllll! If it isn't the lady who helped redecorate my caaaaaaave!" dragged the delighted witch. "And the boy as welllllllll! Good to see you!!! I don't recognize the kid in the striped sweater though..."

"Wait, the Hand Witch?" said Wendy, cocking an eyebrow in bafflement. "I thought you were just some myth that Stanley cooked up to sell his overpriced molds of decapitated hands."

"Nope, he and I go way back!" said the Hand Witch proudly. "Thanks to the kind metal-teethed lady, I finally know what it's like to have a sweet heart!"

"You have a boyfriend!!?" squealed Mabel in excitement, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

"Hm? Oh no, he broke things off with me weeks ago," explained the Hand Witch, cheerfully adding, "So I boiled him up and ate his heart! Hearts are surprisingly sugary after you cook them!"

Mabel looked like her own mom told her that Santa Claus got killed in a sleigh accident. "W.... What...?"

The Hand Witch laughed awkwardly. "That was a joke. I thought I was being obvious about that, sorry. We're still together!" she continued, holding up a photo of herself smiling happily and holding hands with... a pale skinned, wrinkly man with unfocused yellow eyes, crooked brown teeth, shaggy dirty hair, and a giant gaping hole in his chest. "I did eat his heart for real, though. He's a ghoul now."

"Oh, okay then!" said Mabel, calming down quite a bit, not appearing to care about the whole eating-hearts thing. Dipper probably did though, considering how creeped out he looked.

Frisk on the other hand marched straight up to the witch and stuck their hand out. "Frisk Dreemurr, Ambassador of Monsters from the Underground. Pleased to meet you."

"Ooooooooooooooo, such delicate haaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnds~! Um, I mean, the pleasure is all mine!" said the Hand Witch, eagerly shaking Frisk's hand with both of hers. 

"Am I to understand that you are the owner of this Nocturnal Teddy Bear?" asked Frisk, seemingly unphased by the Hand Witch dragging the hand shake on for a little too long.

"Yep!" nodded the Hand Witch. "Good ol' Beelzecub is my own creation! Did you kids cross paths with him by any chance?"

"Beelze-what???" Mabel stumbled over her words, when suddenly she felt something land on her head. It was Mr. SnuggleLots, recognizing the witch.

"Ah! There he is!" exclaimed the witch. "Beelzecub! You sure gave me a work out that is only sure to worsen my distorted spine! Why'd you run off?! Was it something I said? Or did? Was it something I didn't say or do? Speak to me Beelzecub! Speak to me, even though I know you can't talk! Was it because you thought I couldn't handle raising you when you turned out to be more of a bear than I intended?!

"What do you mean by him being more of a bear than you intended?" asked Toriel, approaching the group.

"My goal was to create the most Teddy Bearish sentient Teddy Bear to ever roam Gravity Falls!" bellowed the witch, imaginary thunder and lightning booming behind her. "But what came out... acted a lot more like your average bear cub."

"So you abandoned him?!" realized Toriel.

"Absolutely not! I raised him like any well-respected mother should do! Anyone who abandons a child if they don't come out exactly like they intended was never meant to be a parent at all!"

"I mean... do the rules of parenting apply here?" said Dipper, a little perplexed by this strange scenario. "What do you think, Frisk? ....Frisk?"

Frisk suddenly shook out of their stupor. "Hm?"

"Do you think the Hand Witch should treat Mr. SnuggleLots like he's her son?" said Dipper.

"Oh um, I suppose so. She did create him and all."

"See Dipper?!" said Mabel, nudging him. "I knew that Necromancy could be used for good!"

"I'm pretty sure necromancy doesn't apply here," grumbled Dipper.

"If he knows I created him, then why did my boy run away from home???" said a downtrodden Hand Witch. "I did my best to raise him right in the three weeks that I had him..."

There was silence among the group, nobody knowing how to approach this extremely weird conundrum. Even Waddles and Toby were silent.

The silence was broken by a familiar growl from a stomach made of stuffing.

"Oh!" said the Hand Witch, noticing the Teddy bear. "Are you still hungry, Beelzecub? I have a nice plate of fresh fish waiting for you at home!"

The bear said nothing.

Mabel got up to the hag's ear. "Try calling him Mr. SnuggleLots."

"Hm? That's a weird name..." nevertheless, the Hand Witch cleared her dry throat. "Oh Mr. SnuggleLoooooooootssssssss! There's a plate of fish with your name on it if you accompany Mama back to the caaaaaaaaaaave!"

The Trio, the pets, the Corduroys, and Toriel all watched as Mr. SnuggleLots's face turned a sickly green at the mention of fish, the poor bear looking absolutely nauseous.

And everything made sense.

"Mrs. Hand Witch," said Mabel, standing straight. "I believe we know why your pet Teddy ran away from home."

Dipper stood up next. "The reason for him leaving you was not because you were a bad role model, but rather..."

"You were feeding your child literal garbage," finished Frisk.

"B-but, look at him!" pleaded the Hand Witch. "He clearly acts like a... well... huh, actually he's acting pretty much how I envisioned him to act when I made him."

Dipper paced the room, stroking his chin. "I believe that what you had been dealing with was simply a side effect of a hungry Mr. SnuggleLots. It would appear, based on our experience, that the hungrier that Mr. SnuggleLots gets, the more animalistic he becomes. And this is not unheard of; I know a great number of people who display similar behavior when they're hungry. Take Mabel for example. Mabel!"

"Present!" said Mabel, raising her hand.

"Answer honestly! Do you, or do you not, start to growl like gremlin whenever breakfast takes longer than usual to be served?"

"I do!" said Mabel. "I also start biting the table legs!"

"Now then, Ms. Hand Witch," said Dipper, pointing at the witch who was taking notes. "Would you say that Mabel's behavior is well mannered, or not?"

"It isn't," Frisk chimed in. "But it is very much a quality that defines Mabel, and should never be corrected."

Mabel couldn't help but smile at that.

"So wait, hang on," said Wendy. "You mean to tell me that all of this crazy behavior was happening because Mr. SnuggleLots was hangry?"

"You are absolutely correct, Wendy." said Dipper, before returning his focus to the friendly crone. "The point we're trying to make here, Mrs. Hand Witch, is that when you created Mr. SnuggleLots, he was born without any food in his belly. He was starving. And he left your cave because what you were feeding him is not what he eats. It isn't fish, or bugs, or even honey. It is-!"

"Fabric!" said Mabel from behind Dipper, throwing confetti out of her hands. Where she got the confetti from was information that only she knew about.

"So, all that you need to do is change what you feed him," informed Frisk with their index finger up. "If you can't get over feeding him bear-food, then do it in the form of fabric. Knit a fish-doll. Use a yellow spool of yarn in place of a beehive. Things like that. Do that on top of everything else you've been doing for him, and you should be fine."

"I see, I see!" said the Hand Witch, enchanted by the new information. "I shall update his meal planner right away! Whaddya say to that, Beelz- um, I mean, Mr. SnuggleLots? Wow, that's going to take some getting used to... Ahem, well, Mr. SnuggleLots, how 'bout it? Ready to head back to our sweet little cave?"

Mr. SnuggleLots slowly crawled up to the Hand Witch... and gently chewed on her robe. Not eating it. Just chewing it.

"Looks like he's willing to give you another chance," said Frisk smiling.

The hag cackled with glee, picking the bear up and spinning him around. "Mama has missed you sooooooooooooo much!"

Mabel smiled at the happy reunion... but try as she may, she couldn't stop herself from choking up. "I'm gonna miss you, *sniff* Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't forget about me, you- you hear me?! I forbid it!!!"

"There there, sis," soothed Dipper, patting his sister on the back. He looked back to the bear, and gave a gentle yell. "Stay out of trouble from now on, okay buddy?"

"Your mother loves you very much! You're very blessed to have someone like her!" Frisk chimed in. "Don't forget to thank her occasionally!"

The sentient Teddy smiled and nodded, giving one final wave to the kids before the door to the cabin gently shut behind him and the hag.

"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" came the over-the-top wails of Mabel Pines.

"And here come the post-Teddy-bear Blues," sighed Dipper, giving his sister a big hug.

"Ah, so this is a normal occurrence?" asked Frisk.

"Yep," nodded the capped twin. "She is incredibly loyal to any Teddy bear she encounters. You would not believe the number of times I've had to drag her away from various Lost and Found departments because she gave them a lost Teddy bear and couldn't will herself to part with it."

"Heh," chuckled Wendy. "I guess she couldn't bear saying goodbye to any of them, huh?"

The whole room went silent. Well, almost silent; Toriel took everyone by surprise with her giggles.

"You've been hanging out with Sans too much," snarled Dipper at Wendy.

"The guy's a hoot! Shut up!" laughed Wendy.

"At- at any rate," said Toriel, composing herself, "We should be heading out."

"Wait! We should try to help Wendy out with her sleeping problems!" said Mabel, having snapped out of her state of weeping. "I was going to suggest Mr. SnuggleLots but... he's gone now..." annnnnnnnnnnd the tears resumed.

"Meh, that wouldn't have worked out," said Wendy. "It's right in his species' name: Nocturnal. He'd be up all night, and I'd be spending the whole time taking care of him, instead of getting any sleep. But... it did give me an idea. I think having a stuffed animal would help me get to sleep."

"You want a what???" called Dan, his voice becoming a calm growl.

Wendy sighed and tightened her fists. No backing out now. She was a daughter of Francine Corduroy, and dang it, she was going to act like one.

"You heard me, Dad! You all heard me! I am done with the December noise! You all wanna holler about the upcoming New Year, do it outside! The pub, the woods, the sewers, I don't care! Just do it away from me when I'm trying to sleep! As for the stuffed animal, heck yeah I want one! I've always wanted one, why not!? They're soft, they're quiet, they'll help me sleep, and they don't even cost that much, Dad!"

"Dang, she's going off," said Dipper, almost mesmerized.

"'Tis the wrath of the teenager," said Mabel with deep respect towards the red-haired girl. "A power that you and I will soon acquire for ourselves, brother."

"And... A-and...!" Wendy stammered.

The room went quiet from bated breath.

"AND IF ANY OF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, I'LL SUPLEX YOU INTO A MOUNTAIN!!!"

There was silence. Not a peep was uttered from any of the Corduroys. Wendy simply waited, puffing and panting...

        "BWAAAAAAAAAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" Dan howled with laughter. "THAT'S MY GIRL~!"

"Pardon?" said Wendy.

"First thing tomorrow, we'll stop by the local toy store. You can pick out whichever one you want! The boys wouldn't stop pestering me about it anyway. As for the New Years noise..."

Wendy tensed up.

"Baby girl, I'm gonna be honest, it completely slipped my mind how busy you are with the shack. I promise to take the noise elsewhere. And if you ever catch me forgetting that promise, you have permission to wack me upside the head with your late mother's favorite frying pan."

"You're kidding," said Wendy with a flabbergasted smile.

"Nope, you know I don't kid around with you or any of the boys," said Dan with pride.

"Heh... thanks Dad," said Wendy sheepishly, thinking to herself, Looks like Undyne isn't boasting around when she's giving advice. I keep forgetting that she was a Captain during her time underground.

"Victory for Wendy!!!" cheered Mabel, throwing more confetti from seemingly out of nowhere.

"And with th-thaaaaaattttttt..." Toriel said before letting out a massive yawn of her own. "I believe it's time that we headed home."

As the kids, the pets, and Toriel made their way back home in their winter garb (Mabel now donning a decently lengthed spaghetti scarf thanks to Mr. SnuggleLots biting it down to size), Frisk slowed their pace, drifting away from the kids until the stoic faced child was side by side with their mother.

"Frisk?" said Toriel, curious as to why her child fell behind. 

"I knew that today was Asriel's birthday. I knew the whole time."

"!!!"

"And when I found out that you stole the living room TV, I realized it was because you were planning to spend the day alone in your room with the videotape of his birthday. I... I wanted his birthday to be a day of celebration. A day where you and Dad could come together, if only for the one day. I..."

Toriel said nothing. She just picked her child up and held them close to her as she walked. Frisk buried their face in her shoulder, their tiny hands gripping onto her robe.

"I got..." whimpered the child. "...I got so mad when I found out that you were planning to spend the day away from me... from Dad... from everyone. If anything, we could've at least helped you carry the burden of all the grief the day brings you. So... So I stole the videotape in the hope that you would abandon looking for it and spend time with us instead. I should've told you, I know... but... I was scared you'd just turn me away... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Frisk," comforted the remorseful mother. "You don't have to apologize for anything..."

    "...except for stealing."

That earned her a muffled chuckle. Okay, good.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I should have never secluded myself from the group, from Asgore, and especially from you. If you knew that today was his birthday, you must've been grieving a bit yourself. And there is no doubt that Asgore was coping with his own grief as well."

She felt Frisk silently nod against her.

"Did you overhear the conversation I was having with Wendy, Frisk?"

"...A bit."

"Well," said Toriel, giving a murmur of a giggle as she ran a paw through Frisk's hair soothingly, "She told me something that I feel silly for not considering sooner. About how the anniversary of a lost loved one should be filled with laughter, not just grief. I promise you, this is the last night where I suffer in a room by myself on my dear Asriel's birthday."

"Really?"

"I swear it, my child."

Frisk pulled back to look their mom in the eyes and smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, my dear sweet Frisk," cooed Toriel, brushing her snout against Frisk's nose endearingly. "Would you like me to set you down?"

"Please," said Frisk. "I just remembered something I want to tell Mabel."

"Of course, sweetie," said Toriel, setting Frisk back down on the snowy ground. "I suppose we can consider this to be the end of the conversation that we both promised earlier to continue."

"Okay, Mom," said a beaming Frisk, before running up to rejoin the group and say...

"Hey Mabel, don't you owe your brother fifty dollars now or something? The owner of the bear turned out to be a witch after all."

"Huh... that's right! Alright, Mabel! Hand over the dough!"

"I don't owe you squat! I refused that deal, remember?! Frisk, you're my witness! Back me up here!"

"I plead the fifth~"

"Traitor!"

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. The Mystery Shack finally reopened, and it turned out that everyone's fear of a swarm was unwarranted, as there was no swarm. But, there was something new about the visitors that kept things interesting.

Monsters were beginning to visit the shack. Of all shapes and sizes, inhabitants of the underground were stopping buy to peruse the gift shop or experience a tour of the museum. Of notice, there was a dummy that was very brash and loud, but was very respectful when asked to shush. There was a purple spider humanoid that was creepily polite as she bought herself a few Mystery Shack Mugs™ and left a flyer on the counter for the 'First Spider Bake Sale on the Surface!' before tittering and leaving the store. There was even a humanoid cat and alligator that stopped by that Wendy just knew her ragtag of friends would get along with. 

Wendy looked like she had a face lift with how much better she looked. At Mabel's curiosity, Wendy spoke about how once this shift is over, she's heading out with her family to visit the toy store and get a toy for each of the kids, and that's when she'll be able to pick out her stuffed animal to sleep with.

"But honestly, I still have no idea what kind of stuffed animal I want right now..."

That's when a peculiar critter, with the cutest face and voice that Wendy had ever seen, passed through the door, followed by 19 lookalikes.

"Hoi! I'm Temmie! Is this the Mystewy Shack???"

Wendy knew exactly what kind of stuffed animal she wanted now.

But it wasn't just monsters showing up. Candy and Grenda finally passed through now that they could, and Mabel nearly knocked Grenda over with her pounce-hug. They spent the whole time preparing sleepovers, catching up, and promising other times to meet up that weren't sleepover-related.  

Old Man McGucket passed by as well! He needed a batch of normal AA batteries. When Dipper asked him what invention he needed the batteries for, he hooted and hollered, saying they weren't for him. They were for the alarm clock for his new lab assistant, simply named 'P.N.' Something about that name struck Dipper as familiar, but McGucket had left the store before the boy could ask him anything else.

Frisk had bumped into someone roughly their size. The other kid was in very suspicious clothing: A tiny trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. The only thing Frisk heard from the kid was a simple phrase spoken in a boyish, and ridiculously southern, voice. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Good day."

The Mystery Trio was certain the day was over when Wendy left with her family, flipping the sign from 'Got money? We're Open!' to 'Begone from this cursed place! We're Closed!' on her way out. But it wasn't over.

Toriel had been missing for most of the day, much to the Trio's confusion, the only clue given to them was that she had asked Stanley if there was any flour left over from the errands he was running when Tim attacked. Now, they were about to find out why.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," rang Papyrus's voice. "THE EX-QUEEN OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ORDERS YOU TO PLEASE HALT WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY! ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD TELL WHY MY SCARF GOT SO MUCH SHORTER OVERNIGHT, THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC-"

"As I told you, I will explain everything to you soon," a giggling Toriel promised the uptight skeleton, waiting until everyone had congregated in the living room and kitchen before continuing. "My friends, I owe you all an apology."

The whole crew went quiet as Toriel went on.

"Some of you know- and for those that don't, I apologize for holding this secret from you- that yesterday was the birthday of our departed prince of the underground, Asriel Dreemurr."

Gasps were heard all around.

"I spoke nothing of this occasion previously because I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted to grieve alone. I wasn't even willing to share the grief with my ex-husband, Asriel's father, Asgore. My time of grieving for all these years had made me grow distant and selfish."

She spared a glance to Asgore before closing her eyes, sighing, and proceeding.

"Yesterday, a chance encounter with Wendy's family opened my eyes to something. If I'm going to remember Asriel's passing for every year when his birthday comes around, I'm doing my poor child a horrible disservice by not celebrating. By not smiling. By not laughing. By not spending it with those who were close to him and the friends of those close to him.

She looked to everyone. The misty eyed Stan twins. The Papyrus who was trying his best not to shriek like a dog whistle. The Sans who looked lively for once. The Undyne and Alphys who were looking pumped as all heck. The joyous Mettaton. The smiling Napstablook. The Asgore grinning from ear to ear. And the Mystery Trio, who were slowly realizing what she was about to say next.

"So who wants to help me bake a cake?!"

As pandemonium continued to ensue in the kitchen, Toriel found a moment to pull Asgore aside. They both were now sitting quietly on the couch of the back porch.

"Everything alright?" asked Asgore.

"In the grand scheme of things, absolutely not," answered Toriel with brutal honesty. "Our child is still dead. And with him, 6 other children fell. By your cursed trident."

Asgore could only look down, well acquainted with the crushing shame that coursed through him.

"But... today is a tribute to Asriel's birthday. And you were... are... his father."

Toriel finally looked the ex-King in the eyes. "I may never forgive you for what you did after we lost Asriel. However... you were the best father a boy like him could've ever hoped for. And you continue to be that father for our little Frisk. For that... I cannot thank you enough."

"...that's all the thanks I could ever ask of you, Toriel." said Asgore with a sad smile. "I appreciate you telling me."

Despite herself, Toriel gave a small smile. "Come inside. Cake is almost ready, and I'm not going to sit and listen to your whining if you aren't quick enough to nab a piece."

"Ha ha ha, of course," beamed Asgore.

"♫♫HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU!♫♫"

The band of misfits finished the terribly sung rendition of the ancient tune. And yet, it was music to Toriel's ears.

She looked up to the ceiling, wiping her eyes and smiling.

"Make a wish, little one~"

"Mabel, Frisk, you guys go on ahead. I'll be right behind you as soon as I'm done with something!"

"Okie dokie!"

"Understood. See you in the morning, Dipper."

Dipper was just on his way to a long needed nightly rest, when he remembered a very important question he wanted to ask Toriel. This was why he approached her as she was getting ready to settle into her bed with a good book.

"Hey, Toriel?"

"Yes, Dipper?"

"In all the excitement from last night and today, I forgot that there was something I wanted to ask."

"Ha ha ha, and what would that be?"

"Yesterday night... I was watching the tape after you left, and... I couldn't help but notice that there was another child in the background."

"Another child?"

"Yeah! They were looking away from the camera a lot but I think they looked like a human... Who were they?"

Toriel gave a bemused smile. Her face was one of pure honesty, and when she answered, her words came straight from the heart.

      And that's why what she said next did not sit well with Dipper at all.

                "Dipper, sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand. Asriel was the only child we had in our family. I don't remember raising anyone alongside him. Who is this this other child that you claim to see?"

A day spent remembering the passing of a loved one is better went it's filled with laughter and good company. Solitude and grief is necessary, but extended doses of it can be harmful.

Credits Scene

"Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" cheered the Hand Witch. "I present to you, my dearest Mr. SnuggleLots, with the first round of your new meals!"

The Teddy bear was currently seated at the table, the latter donned with a table cloth and three covered platters.

The first platter unveiled a perfectly crocheted fish, with light-blue scales made of yarn and beads for eyes.

The second platter revealed a giant spool of yellow and brown yarn, representing a beehive.

The third platter showcased a plethora of colorful beads, which symbolized different berries and bugs.

"So which one will it beeeeeeeeee?" dramatized the Hand Witch excitedly. "Take your pick! It's all up to you!"

Mr. SnuggleLots took a very decent amount of time examining all three tasty fabric-treats...

...

Before eating the tablecloth.

"Ah, I see," said the witch, dumbstruck. "You are... quite the picky eater."

Mr. SnuggleLots only smiled at her, his cheeks puffed up from the tablecloth currently in his mouth. 

.- / - --- .- ... - / - --- / - .... . / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.-- ---. / - --- / - .... . / .--. .-. .. -. -.-. . --..-- / -- --- ..- .-. -. . -.. / -... -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. ---. .-.-.. .- -. -.. / --- -. . / - --- / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. / - .... .- - / -. --- / --- -. . / -.-. .- -. / .-. . -.-. .- .-.. .-.. ---.

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

#IT IS DONE #AFTER FOUR YEARS #CHAPTER 7 IS FINALLY COMPLETE #See you all in 2030 for chapter 8! XD #gravity falls #undertale #underfalls #gravitytale

[the-witch-and-her-husbands]

I Think I’ll Skip This Christmas, This Year

Bah, humbug!

Perhaps that was a little strong. Jilomena sighed. Christmas WAS her favourite holiday, after all. But it had been a crazy year, mostly passing by in a blur. She could hardly get her head round the fact that it was December already.

She dragged her tired self around the small kitchen. Her new small kitchen. She’d moved to the area in February. It was a quiet town, and the neighbours seemed nice enough. Linda was hard work at times, but Jil was still fond of her.

Mentally, she ticked off the things she still had to do. Work had been hectic, and Jil was incredibly low on energy. Why rush about driving yourself mad because it was the Christmas season? And don’t get her started on how expensive it all was....

Ah, yes. Presents. She still needed to get something to send to her sister and her sister’s husband and her nephew. Ungrateful bastards that they all were. She wondered idly if they’d send her anything in return. You shouldn’t give to receive, that was true, but it would be nice to get SOMETHING. Probably just a scarf, or a pair of socks. Again.

What would her perfect gift be? She mused idly, staring out the window as she sipped her hot chocolate. Maybe some sort of completion to the year just gone, a meaningful connection with someone.

Her mind drifted, unfocused eyes not seeing the snow falling outside. Linda’s friend. Alex Hughes. She’d met him briefly in one of the local shops. He’d seemed interesting, it even seemed as if a spark had passed between them. He was older, but still handsome, funny and self-depreciating. A tasty silver fox, the type that she was normally drawn to. And oh, those glasses! It made her want to remove them slowly before going in for a kiss...but she was getting sidetracked.

They’d even gone so far as to exchange numbers, but nothing had happened. He’d never phoned her, and she wasn’t quite forward enough to phone him. Linda had said he’d had a tough time of it. Perhaps she was expecting too much.

She sighed, attention returning to her list of unfinished tasks. Halls to deck, tree to trim. Really, she just needed to catch her breath.

Explaining to Lettie that she was spending Christmas by herself this year had been fun. Lettie couldn’t understand why Jil wanted, no, NEEDED, some time alone. Couldn’t understand why she was passing up a family holiday in Bermuda to be ‘stuck in all that horrid shitty snow.’

But the frozen landscape outside her window was like a picture from a calendar. She loved Canada, loved the snow blanketing everything with its uniform whiteness. Like the world made new. Even if the house seemed to have a chill she could never quite get rid of, it was still wonderful to her. The way the snow sparkled on the evergreens took her breath away.

Lettie hated winter. Jilomena loved it. Lettie preferred warm weather and springtime.

Thinking of springtime made Jil think of Alex again.

He’d been visiting Linda when she dropped by. This time, there was actually a mention of the two of them going for lunch together, but they couldn’t seem to agree on a day that was convenient for the both of them. A shame. They laughed and agreed that they’d try to keep in touch.

They didn’t. Not until it was summertime. He was heading to his lake house for the weekend. He had a boat. Would she care to join him?

She DID care to join him, but this time she put paid to it by getting a severe sunburn. Second degree burns. Linda had nagged her incessantly, telling her over and over that she needed to wear sunscreen, the sun was hot and didn’t Jil know that?! Burns were a bad thing to have...

Ah well. Too late to do much about it. She’d set her mind to forget it and concentrate on the holidays.

Work occupied her days. Time passed in a blur, and already it was Christmas Eve.

She’d decided to hell with tradition, she was going to have her Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve that year. It would have driven Lettie to distraction, she thought with a smug smile as she popped the world’s smallest turkey breast into her nice and hot oven. But this way she could get it over with, and spend Christmas Day slobbing about in her pyjamas, watching crap on the television and picking at leftovers all day.

Let’s see, she mused. Potatoes, check. Peas, carrots, and corn, check. Stuffing, check and check! She loved stuffing. Cranberry sauce...uh oh.

She quickly ransacked the cupboards, trying and failing to find the cranberry sauce. Oh, damn. She sighed heavily. There was no use pretending that she could have dinner without it.

She turned off the oven and got on her boots, ready to trudge back out in the snow. Luckily, the Valu-Mart was still open if she hurried.

Jil arrived several minutes later at her destination, cheeks pink with the cold and exertion. She stalked straight for the condiments aisle, weak with relief when she managed to grab the last jar of cranberry sauce on the shelf. It wasn’t her usual brand, but she was past caring, grateful she was able to have it at all.

Only one line was open for checkout. Just her luck that there was a customer already waiting. She sighed inwardly as she got in line behind him.

When he turned to place his item on the counter, she gasped audibly. ‘Alex! Oh my God!’

He looked up, confused for a moment. The look turned into a wide smile when he saw who it was. ‘Oh, hello again, Jilomena. Just doing a little last minute shopping. I’m on my own this year, needed a break, it’s been insanity...’ He trailed off, gesturing at the lonely jar of cranberry sauce that he’d put down.

‘Me too! But why are you...’ She stopped, seeing the item he’d put down. ‘You mean...you forgot cranberry sauce too?!’ She laughed then, a big belly laugh of pure mirth until her eyes were watering. It was too surreal to be believed.

He joined in, once she held up her lone item for purchase.

The sales clerk stared at them impatiently, wanting them to finish having hysterics and buy their damn cranberry sauce and go home so she could close up.

‘Well. Put that back and we’ll combine our efforts,’ he managed at last. ‘ We can go to mine, or I can come to yours. That is, if you’d like to....’ He trailed off then, a nervous smile on his face.

‘I’d love to. I’ll bring the stuffing.’ She slipped her hand into his as the exasperated clerk began to ring up the purchase at long last.

Who would have thought, she mused as she followed him back to his car. Perhaps there is such a thing as Christmas magic...

‘Merry Christmas.’ He gave her a quick kiss before opening the door for her.

‘Merry Christmas!’ she repeated with a grin, sliding herself inside his car.

I’m so glad I didn’t skip this one, this year, she mused with a smile.

#drabble #v:Snowblind

[writingfandomfeels]

Davey Jacobs - Jackie’s Girl Part 2

Part 1

Summary: Getting Jack’s blessing to pursue you, Davey prepares for how he will confess his feelings to you

The adrenaline and excitement that had been coursing through Davey’s veins as he’d ran down the street, disintegrated once he actually caught up to you. The afternoon light made your hair sparkle as you stood outside a flower shop, staring at the various colourful blossoms on display. All confidence he had was immediately replaced by such a fierce anxiety, he didn’t know how he could possibly admit his feelings to your face. You turned around, sensing someone watching you and Davey ducked into the nearest alleyway. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, his thoughts racing. 

How could he face you when you were just so perfect to him? What if getting Jack’s approval was just a waste since there was no guarantee you were even interested in him? Still, it had to be worth the risk to at least try. But how? 

That’s it! He would write you a letter. 

Returning home, Davey grabbed some paper and a pen and sat himself down at the kitchen table. 

Dear Y/N,

He wrote, then paused. Was that too basic? This was a love letter after all. 

My Dearest, Y/N, 

No, no that wouldn’t work. You weren’t his yet. Probably best to just stick with “dear”. He brought the pen to his chin as he began brainstorming how to word this confessional. 

“Whatcha’ doin’?” Les asked, plopping himself down next to his brother at the table. 

“Nothing.” Davey answered, not wanting to go into his love life with his kid brother at the moment. 

Les leaned over him, looking at the paper. “Ooh, you’re writing a letter to Y/N?! What for?” 

“None of your business.” Davey responded calmly though desperately hoping his brother would drop it. 

“A letter for Y/N?” Sarah piped up, joining from the other room. “Please tell me you’re finally confessing your feelings for her.” 

Davey sighed, realizing this wasn’t going away. “As a matter of fact… I’m trying to right now.” 

“Really?!” Both siblings exclaimed, excitedly. Sarah quickly joined the boys at the table. 

“What do you have so far?” Sarah asked. 

“‘Dear Y/N’, that’s it.” Les answered Sarah before Davey could. The boy turned his attention from his sister to his brother. “You’re gonna need to be reaaaal romantic ya’ know. Trust me, I’ve gotten a lotta girls.” 

“Thanks Les, but I think I can handle this on my own.” Davey said. 

“Ooh! You should write her a poem! Poetry is always so romantic.” Sarah suggested. 

“Yeah! Make sure to talk about her eyes lots too.” Les added. 

Davey began taking notes of their suggestions, although he wasn’t too sure he would follow through with them. “Poetry about eyes… got it.” 

“Don’t just talk about her appearance though. That’ll make you look shallow. Make sure you talk about her inner beauty too. And how she makes you feel.” Sarah instructed. 

“But don’t forget to say she’s pretty too!” Les said. 

“And intelligent!” Sarah commented. 

“And that you wanna kiss her, a lot!” Les enthused. 

“Les!” Sarah scolded, somewhat surprised the child would say something so suggestive. 

Davey began getting overwhelmed trying to keep up with writing down all their instructions. 

“What?! It’s true! You’re lucky you don’t have to share a bed with him. You should hear the stuff he says in his sleep.” Les shared. 

Sarah looked between both her brothers, Davey’s face a bright shade of red. 

“Okay, that’s enough Les!” Davey shrieked. “I think I can write this on my own, so if you could please leave me alone right now, I would appreciate it.” 

The two siblings got up from the table, listening to him. 

He sighed, still unsure how to start. 

His mother peered into the room from around the corner. “Just start from the beginning, dear. Say how she makes you feel. You’ll do fine.” She encouraged then disappeared back into the kitchen. 

Start from the beginning she said. Boy did that take him back. 

The snow crunched underneath Davey’s worn boots as he trudged home. The wind was really picking up and it didn’t take Crutchie’s leg to tell that a blizzard was on the rise. He walked with his head down to minimize the cold air stinging his face. Luckily there were only a few more blocks until he made it home. 

Davey was rounding the corner of his street when he bumped into another person. 

“Oh! Sorry! Are you alright?” He apologized. 

“I-I’m fine, th-thank you.” You stuttered as you shivered. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, concerned. “You look like you’re freezing. Do you have someplace warm to stay tonight?” After knowing the newsies Davey had gotten used to knowing a lot of people who weren’t as fortunate as him to have a place and even a family to go home to. 

“Yeah, i-it’s just, o-over on t-t-tenth street.” 

“Tenth street? That’s like twelve blocks from here!” Davey exclaimed. 

You didn’t respond with anything other than the uncontrollable chattering of your teeth. 

There’s no way he could let you walk all that way. You’d probably get hypothermia before you reached there. 

“Come with me, my house is just down the street. My mom will likely have some soup on and the fire going.” 

You looked hesitantly at the stranger. 

“Please? It’s far too cold out here and it’s bound to start snowing any minute now.” Davey insisted. 

The hope of being warm outweighed your fear of being murdered by a random stranger on the street. You were just so cold. And after all, he didn’t look much like a murderer. Although a name would be nice. 

“Okay.” You agreed. “What’s your name?” 

“Davey- well, David, but most of my friends call me Davey now.” He rambled. 

“D-do you have a preference?” You asked. 

“Not really, either works for me. Occasionally I’ll even respond to just ‘hey you’.” He chuckled, thinking of the times he’d be busy selling. 

You smiled. “I’m Y/N.” 

“And we’re here.” Davey said, turning to go up the steps of his home. 

He opened the door for you and immediately you felt relieved at the warmth of being indoors. He lead you into the living room where both the fireplace was and also his family. 

“Oh, David, you’re home, good. I was just about to go and send Pa after you.” Davey’s mom said from her rocking chair. She was busy knitting a scarf which seemed appropriate for the current weather. 

“This is Y/N,” Davey introduced, “she lives over on tenth and was shaking like a leaf when I ran into her, so I insisted she stay with us until the storm clears up.” 

“Good thinking, son.” Davey’s dad praised. “No use getting hypothermia when there’s a perfectly good fireplace you can sit in front of.” 

You stripped off your soaked outerwear which Davey then took from you and hung by the fire. 

Sarah, who had been sitting on a rug on the floor scooted over to make room for the newcomer. “Here,” she said, opening her blanket up and offering the space next to her for you, “you can sit with me.” 

You complied and sat yourself next to the girl who wrapped part of her blanket around you. Slowly you felt yourself beginning to thaw out. Your bones began to ache less, and your body began to relax. Davey’s father was reading something out loud from a book for the family. You weren’t paying much attention though as the fire was making you sleepy. You felt yourself laying down on the carpet and watched as the flames whipped in front of you, that being the last thing you saw before you drifted to sleep. 

When you awoke, the fire was still going and it appeared to still be dark out, but the room was empty. Or almost empty. You turned away from the fire and saw Davey dozing on the couch behind you. 

“Hi.” You said, not sure if he was awake or not. 

He stirred a little, realizing you were up now. “Hey, you feeling better?” 

You nodded your head. “Much, thank you.” 

“Good, I was worried.” he said. 

“Is it still snowing?” You asked. 

He leaned up from his seat to look out the window. “I think it’s slowed down quite a bit. But don’t worry, you can still stay ‘til morning.”

You got up and looked out the window, gasping at the winter wonderland outside. “It’s beautiful!” You reached for your now dried extra clothing, putting it on. “Do you want to build a snowman?” 

“What?” Davey asked, hardly believing his ears. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

You giggled. “So? There’s fresh snow out there! And I can just tell it’s the perfect kind for snowman making.” 

He followed you outside, intrigued by your excitement. 

You twirled around, arms lifted. “I love snow!” 

Davey chuckled, his hands warm in his coat pockets. “I doubt you’d be saying that had you frozen to death tonight.” 

You shook your head. “Snow and me have a special relationship. I knew it would never betray me like that. Either it would hold off blizzarding ‘til I got home or something else would come up.” You gestured to him. “Like you did! I told you,” you twirled again, “snow always has my back.” You then flopped down, making a snow angel. 

Davey shook his head, smiling at you. He couldn’t figure you out. Never had he known someone so impulsive they would run outside in the middle of the night just to play in the snow. Well except maybe Jack, though he’d never done this particular impulsive thing. He watched as you began rolling the base of your snowman. 

“Hey!” You said, looking up at him and throwing a snowball to his chest. 

Davey looked down at where the snowball had hit. 

“Come help me!” You insisted. 

He began walking towards where you were knelt in the snow, but before reaching you he scooped up a handful of snow and flung it at you. 

You yelped at the unsuspected attack. 

“You hit me first!” Davey defended. 

That was all it took for a war to start. You threw another snowball at him which he eagerly returned. You went back and forth a while before you began crouching behind the large ball you’d started for your snowman, attempting to use it as a shelter. While you hid, Davey began making multiple snowballs to stay ahead of the game. As he looked at his small pile of ammo he laughed to himself. What was he doing? He hadn’t had this much fun in a while. Distracted by the snowball pile, he hadn’t noticed you’d left your safe spot and snuck up on him. 

“Hah! Gotchu!” You declared, dumping an arm full of snow on the boy’s head.  

“AH!” Davey yelled. “Oh no you don’t!” He haphazardly flung an arm full of powdered snow in your direction, missing entirely. 

You laughed, tackling the boy to the ground for even attempting to triumph over you. He hardly noticed the cold as he fell into the snow, being too wrapped up in the sound of your laugh. He’d never heard anything sound more beautiful and exciting in his life. 

“Missed me missed me, now you have to kiss me!” You teased, having him pinned to the ground, and lazily throwing some powdered snow at him. 

He would love to kiss you. Your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, matching the glittering flecks of snow sprinkled throughout your hair. Despite laying with you in the frozen ice he didn’t feel the least bit cold with your body on top of his. Your smile warmed his soul and sent all his emotions into a flurry. Davey had never felt like this before about anyone, especially someone he’d only met hours earlier. He always said he didn’t believe love at first sight was possible but maybe this was what it was like. 

For a moment, as he stared at you, you almost thought he was going to take your joke seriously and kiss you. Which really you wouldn’t have minded. He was cute though you hardly knew him. But as the moment passed, you were sure if he even was thinking about it that’s all he planned to do. 

“C’mon and help me with this snowman David.” You said, getting off of him. 

His heart fell as he realized he’d missed his chance to kiss you by thinking too much. But this feeling soon vanished as he heard his name for the first time on your lips. It felt as sweet as honey to him and he happily complied. As he rolled the second ball for the snowman he couldn’t help thinking he would do anything you asked him. 

He nodded his head as you spoke but in all honesty he wasn’t listening. He was in love. He knew it. And frankly that’s all he could think about. 

“Are you listening?” You asked. 

“Hmm? Yeah, of course.” He lied. He’d have to tell you eventually. But right now you were too consumed with building your snowman. Tomorrow morning, he decided. Tomorrow morning he would walk you home and ask you on a date. 

When Davey woke the next day, having only gotten a few hours of sleep, he had to wonder if it was a dream he was having or if he’d actually heard Jack in his kitchen. 

Turned out it was the latter. 

“Davey! You’re up!” Jack greeted, sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with the Jacobs. 

Davey’s heart began pounding as he saw Jack sitting between you and Les... Jack’s arm around you. 

“I just stopped by to check you’s guys was okay after the blizzard last night.” Jack explained and ruffled Les’s hair with the hand that wasn’t resting on your shoulder. “I hear you saved this beautiful doll from the cold last night” Jack said. 

You giggled. “Yeah, Davey was a really great friend to me.” 

Friend. Was that all she thought of him as? Just a friend? 

“A’ight we best get goin’,” Jack said, getting up with you, now holding your hand. “I promised I’d walk her home. That way I know where to pick her up tonight too.” Jack smiled at you. 

“I’ll see ya’ at work Davey.” Jack said as he left with you. 

Davey stared at the table in shock. He’d only slept in a little and yet he’d missed so much. And of course the only reason he’d slept in was because of staying up so late with you. And now you were gone, off with Jack. A lump formed in his throat as he realized he may have lost his one and only shot at true love. 

Davey finished up writing the letter. 

I understand if you don’t share the same feelings as I do, but at the very least I had to tell you. Forever yours, David Jacobs

He signed, then folded the papers in half. Now came the hard part… the actual delivery of the letter. 

His heart pounded in his head which every step he took walking over to your house. As he approached he saw Jack leaving. 

“She’s all your’s.” Jack said lowly, touching his friend’s shoulder as he passed. 

Davey nodded and gulped. You were his. That is… if you would take him. 

“Davey!” You greeted still standing at the door, looking surprised. 

“Hi Y/N,” He smiled nervously. 

“Jack and I just broke up.” You shared. 

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry.” Davey apologized, knowing he was somewhat to blame for it. 

“It’s alright. Things haven’t been good for a while. It was just a matter of time, really.” You admitted. “What’s that?” You asked, the folded pieces of paper catching your eye. 

This was it. No turning back now. 

“It’s a letter. I was too nervous to say it so I wrote it.” Davey handed it to you. 

You gave him a somewhat confused look, but unfolded the pages. 

He watched, desperately trying to read your expression as you read his deepest thoughts emotions. 

Your eyebrows shot up. Surprise. Definitely surprise.

A smile. That was good… right? 

A giggle… and a nod. Okay? 

Head tilted slightly with a softer smile. What did that mean? 

Your hand went to cover your mouth, then moved to hold your cheek as you smiled and… was that a blush he detected? 

His thoughts sped. Why did he have to make the thing so damn long?! This waiting was torture. 

Finally you appeared to be done reading. You let the letter drop to the ground and approached him. Not sure what to expect, Davey stood frozen with concern as you drew closer to him. Just a step away now, you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him. 

Your lips were softer than he’d ever imagined. Instantly he wrapped his arms around you and held on, afraid of losing the moment. Afraid of losing you again. You felt better than he ever could have imagined. You combed your fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss and accidentally knocked off his cap. Of course he didn't care. He didn’t even care if you were messing up his hair, it was worth it to have you so close to him. 

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips. 

He nearly went weak in the knees hearing you say it back to him for the first time. This was all he could have ever dreamed of and more.

#newsies x reader #newsies imagine #newsies imagines #davey jacobs #davey jacobs x reader #davey jacobs imagine #my writing

[ficklefics]

Friends Like These: Chapter Twenty - Snow and Presents

A surprise encounter puts a dampener on the festivities.

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Chapter Warnings: None

Christmas Eve. It hasn’t stopped snowing, but the movement of the city stops it taking hold. The streets and sidewalks clear, life continuing as normal. The house has been taken over with decorations; red and green everywhere, a sparkling tree dominating the living room, lights twinkling along the bannisters. I even have a small tree sitting on my desk. I’m pulling on my boots when Wren knocks on my door.

“Ready to go?” She leans against the door frame. I nod, standing up and crossing to stand next to her. Her short blonde hair pokes out from under her hat. It’s adorable. “You sure you’ll be warm enough?” I adjust her hat and scarf, make sure her jacket’s done all the way up. “You’ve got gloves?” She bats my hands away in mock annoyance. “I’ll be fine, mom.” She rolls her eyes. I smile and push her shoulder. “Okay, okay. Just don’t complain if you’re cold.” I turn off my light and close the door, leading the way downstairs with Puddin’ at our feet. “We’ll be back in an hour!” I call into the house, trusting that my parents will hear. We’ve already agreed on every aspect of this, and I know that if we’re not back in exactly sixty minutes they will freak. Police cars, SWAT team, helicopters. The works. I slam the front door behind us, a last message that we’ve left the house. It’s a tradition for Wren and I to go on a walk on Christmas Eve – it lets us have sister time, and lets our parents finish off everything for Christmas Day without us to get in the way of their fighting. This year it almost didn’t happen. It took a lot of bargaining, an argument with premises and conclusions and counterpoints, practically a formal debate. But we got it. I’m glad. We haven’t had much time together since I got back. “So, how’s life?” I ask as we stroll down the street side by side. I hold Puddin’s leash tight in my hand, but she stays close on her own.   “Pretty good. Better with you home.” “Obviously.” I toss my hair over my shoulder, posing like an idiot. “What about school? We’ve got a reputation to maintain.” “Ugh, don’t remind me.” She rolls her eyes. “With you getting expelled -” “Voluntarily leaving,” I interject. “Sure. With you voluntarily leaving mom and dad won’t let me forget how well you did in school.” “You’re smart though. And you’re a better student than I ever was.” I reach out and loop an arm through hers, pulling her close. “Don’t feel too pressured though. School isn’t everything.” “I am doing pretty good though.” “Top of the class?” “You know it,” She squeezes my arm, giggling. “Friends all good? Got plenty?” I’m interrogating her a bit, but I feel so disconnected from her life now. We’ve never been this distant. “Yeah, they’re cool. Things were a bit weird for a while – they still are sometimes. People don’t really know how to talk to me; they’re worried about saying the wrong thing.” She looks at me, her eyebrows furrowed. “I guess you get that too?” “I did. Luckily Bruce has been through similar stuff, so there’s no awkwardness there.” We’re in the park now, and I steer us towards the same bench I sat on last time I was here. “But with people at school – they all looked at me like I was some… freak.” “It just sucks.” I let go of her arm and we sit down after clearing away the snow that’s piled up. Wren shivers and I smirk at her, prompting a glare. “Yeah. That’s one word for it.” I sit back, surveying the empty park. It’s beautiful at night. Christmas lights have been strung up along the paths and through the trees, making it feel like a Winter Wonderland. “Harleen.” Wren’s voice is serious, quiet. I look at her, concerned. “Is something wrong?” “I… I want to know what happened to you.” She looks away. “You know what happened Wren.” I don’t want to talk about this. I’m trying to put it behind me, not bring it up at every opportunity. “No, I don’t. All I know is that you were taken from school and then three weeks later you show up at the police station, covered in bruises and dressed in different clothes.” She raises her voice, clearly frustrated. “What happened while you were there? What did he do to you?” “You don’t want to know, Wren!” I yell, and she flinches away. I sigh, leaning forward and resting my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. But you don’t want to know. If I could forget it, I would. All you need to know was that it was bad, and nothing I would wish on anyone else.” “You can talk to me, Harls.” She hasn’t called me Harls since she was four. “No, I can’t. I won’t put that on you.” I shake my head. I can’t tell her. I can’t take her innocence from her like that. It’s not fair. “You don’t have to carry it on your own.” She sounds older. I never thought about how this all might have affected her. But she’s had to grow up, just like I have. “I can’t tell you everything. No one should have to have that in their head.” “But you do. You don’t have to tell me everything - just some of it.” She rests a hand on my hunched shoulder. “Okay.” I sit back up, letting out a heavy breath. “Some of it. I… I was kept tied up, pretty much all of the time. Rope at first, then handcuffs, then zipties.” She sucks in a breath but doesn’t interrupt. “I got food and stuff – they didn’t starve me – and I was allowed to use the bathroom. I even got to shower once.” Small things. Unimportant things. “I tried to escape a couple of times – the first time Jerome choked me. The second time…” I did warn you. I can’t tell her that. That’s one of the things she absolutely can’t know. “What happened? Please tell me.” “Wren, I can’t.. If I told you this… Trust me, it would change you.” “So you just have to suffer with it?” “Yes!” She doesn’t get it. She refuses to understand. “Please! Just tell me!” “No, Wren!” I stand up and step away from her. “You have to trust me on this!” I turn around. “I can’t tell you.” I won’t let her see the scar, the “J” carved into my stomach; the skin tight and pink, raised up, slowly healing. But it will never disappear. Her face falls, but she nods. “Thank you.” “You know you can talk to me, whenever you need.” “I know.” I smile and reach out a hand to pull her up. “Want to build a snowman?” A grin breaks across her face, finally looking her age. “Of course I do.”

*

“Well, this is shit.” “Language!” “Well, it is,” Wren pokes at the lumpy snowman. It’s short and wonky, a disturbing smile carved into its face and a yellow stain courtesy of Puddin’. “It could be worse,” I shrug. She’s right though. It’s completely awful. “Not much.” I pull off my scarf and wrap it around the “neck” of the snowman; it doesn’t help. “Time to go?” We’ve got twenty minutes left until we need to be back, but it is colder than usual. “You head back. I’m going to stay for a bit.” I want some alone time before the chaos of Christmas Day. “But-” “Just tell mom and dad that I met a friend or something. I’ll be back before time’s up.” “Okay. Stay safe.” She hugs me, and I wrap an arm around her in return, staring at the lump of snow we made. “See you soon.” She heads off back in the direction of the house, leaving me standing alone in the snow. I drop down next to the snowman, uncaring for the cold that immediately seeps through my jeans. I lie down into the soft snow and close my eyes. Before I can stop myself I’m thinking about Jerome. Because of him, I can’t even talk to my sister – I hate keeping secrets from her, but Jerome is my burden to bear. “Fucking asshole,” I grumble. A shadow falls over me, blocking out the vague lights behind my eyelids.

“Speak of the devil, and- Well, you know the rest.”

I struggle to my feet, snow falling from my back and hair. It’s him. It’s actually him. His hair. His scarred face. He found me. Puddin’ growls by my side. “You’re sister’s cute,” He remarks, looking over my shoulder in the direction she left. “Don’t you dare talk about her.” I try to keep my voice steady, never taking my eyes off of him; taking note of every movement. “What’s her name? Wren? What do your parents have against normal names?” He steps forward and I step back. “I said don’t.” “Aw, feeling a bit protective, Harls?” I loosen my hold on Puddin’s leash, ready to let her attack Jerome. “Nice of her to give us some alone time.” “You need to leave.” ““What? You’re not glad to see me?” He takes another step closer and Puddin’ mimics him, teeth bared. “You come any closer and she’ll rip your throat out.” He lets out a low whistle at the threat. “I guess we’re talking from a distance then.” He stops moving, hands slipping into his pockets. “We’re not talking at all. If I’m not home in ten minutes the police will be here in an instant.” “Aw, are you scared they’ll catch me?” I roll my eyes, quickly fixing my gaze back on his figure. “Don’t worry, I’ll be long gone. Just wanted to give you this,” He tosses me a small package and I instinctively catch it. It’s a present, wrapped sloppily in purple paper with a red ribbon. I look back up at him, confused. “I know, I know, you didn’t get me anything. It’s fine, you can make it up to me. Merry Christmas… Harls.” He begins to back away, turning around after a few steps “They’ll catch you, you know!” It’s an empty threat – I’m too shocked to do anything. “Of course they will!” He calls back as he saunters off, clearly unbothered. “All part of the plan.” I watch his retreating form, making sure he’s gone before I pocket the parcel. I’ll throw it away later.

*

I’m still on edge from encountering Jerome. It’s made Christmas morning a bittersweet affair, but I’ve managed to push the feeling away for presents. I’m curled up in an armchair next to the fire with a mug of hot chocolate watching Wren open parcels. Books, makeup, clothes, music. All of them perfect. Then it’s my turn. First an envelope. I open it and tip out its contents: two sets of keys. I look at my parents, an eyebrow raised. “Two things,” My dad begins, “First: a motorbike, and lessons. I know you wanted to learn back in New York so…” My face lights up. A motorbike means independence. Freedom. And no more Archie. “And second: An apartment. It’s in the centre of the city, good security, no one gets in without a pass or clearance from a resident. You can move in whenever you want.” I didn’t think they’d follow through. “And before you thank us: here.” My mom passes me a parcel. It’s soft, clothes maybe? I open it up, revealing a red dress. “What-?” “It’s your uniform for Arkham.” I lift my head, staring at her in shock. “You start on the second.” “Thank you.” I jump off of the chair, making Puddin’ yip in excitement, and hug her. She hesitates, unsure of what to do – neither of us is particularly physically affectionate – before hugging back. I release her and move on to hug my dad, who welcomes me with open arms. “A deal’s a deal, Harleen.” “Still. Thank you.” “There is one other thing.” I turn to look at my mom, who looks slightly guilty. “Yeah?” I ask with trepidation. “We want you to make a speech at the New Year party.” “Wait, what?” Why would they want me to do that? “With how much you’ve improved, we think that you’re ready to begin representing the company again. You exemplify everything Arthur Ammunitions stands for: strength, resilience, determination.” I sit back in my chair, thinking it over in my head. If this is the terms of my independence, I can live with it. “Okay. I’ll do it.” Satisfied smiles all around.

*

I turn on the light to the bathroom before slipping into my bedroom, closing the door gently behind me. I don’t have long. In the bottom of my desk drawer hides the gift Jerome gave me. I was going to throw it away, but I have to know what messed-up present he got me. The wrapping falls apart in my hands as I pull it away to reveal red tissue paper. He’s really gone all out. And underneath the tissue paper – a dagger. Tiny, the blade only as long as my thumb. It’s accompanied by a sheath, with a black leather band with a buckle – I’m guessing for hiding somewhere on your body. I examine the collection carefully, looking for traps or hidden dangers. But it really is just a simple knife. Why would Jerome give this to me? Is it a warning? A threat? A promise? Whatever it is, it’s not good.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

Tags:@psychobitchtess​

#flt #friends like these #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska fanfiction #jerome valeska #jerome valeska/harleen quinzel #jerome valeska x harleen quinzel #Harley Quinn #Harleen Quinzel #Gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction

[popculturebuffet]

Analysis of X: Uncanny X-Men #159 “Night Screams!”

Happy Halloween! For our Halloween special, I take my first dive into Claremont’s classic X-Men Run proper, as Claremont’s future New Mutants partner Bill Sienkiewicz drops by just in time for the X-Men to battle Dracula for the soul of Storm! Get your stakes ready and join me after the cut.

Welcome everyone to my special Halloween Edition of Analysis of X. I love this holliday: Scary movies, adorable children in costume, more sugar than I probably need… it’s the best. And it’s on this sacred day I’ve decided to take a second look at one of my faviorite X-Men stories and see if it still holds up to me the second time around. I first heard about this story in the back of Wizard Magzine in this old beatup issue I got from my brother,  and was blown away by the descrption of an event we’ll get to towards the end. When I finally read the issue years later thanks to an issue of Classic X-Men, it exceded my expectations, and hence here I am to see if it still holds up. And since the few bits of exposition needed can just be done as we go, let’s sink our teeth into “Night Screams”

We open on the Uncanny, the powerful, the misunderstood, the brave X-Men!... barging into someone’s apartment and being confused by the occupant. Naturally both parties are confused: The young lady because it’s her damn apartment and suddenly a blue elf, a smelly hairy Canadian, a metallic Russian, an African goddess and a masked teenager come rushing into her place. The X-Men are confused because this apartment belongs to their friend Misty Knight. Those of you who watched Netflix’s excellent Luke Cage series probably remember her from that. In the comics she’s not far off from where she ended up by the end of the Netflix/MCU partnership: a private eye who used to be a cop and has a robot arm, in the comics provided by Tony Stark because back in the 70’s and 80’s tony would make some sorta gadget for anyone who pulled a dump truck of money up to his house. As I mentioned in Excalibur, Chris Claremont never really forgot any character he ever had anything to do with, and since she was a major supporting character during his run on iron fist along with her partner in asskicking Colieen Wing, who you may remember as the best part of Iron Fist’s own Netflix series, he had the two pop up in his X-Men run during a time when they thought the professor and jean were dead, because no one bothered to pick up a fucking phone. As such Misty had apparently offered her place to the X-Men any time they were in the city proper… but herself didn’t pick up the damn phone and tell her in the past few months she got a roommate, so said roommate is understandably pissed off to find a bunch of strangers in her place.

As the above should make obvious, the young lady is Harmony Young, famous model and misty’s new roommate. At this time Mary Jo Duffy had taken over Luke Cage, at the time Power Man,’s book and, in an attempt to keep the book from being canceled, brought Iron Fist in as a second protagonist and made the book into a buddy picture with the two’s contrasting personalites and backgrounds playing off each other. Having read this run, it’s fantastic and well worth a read and is the backbone of later runs of Luke and Danny while creating one of the best friendships in all of Marvel.  As for how the hell this relates to this story, Harmony is a supporting character from that run and at the time, Luke’s Girlfriend and thus moved in with Misty when Misty needed a roommate.

With the confusion cleared up the X-Men try to smooth things over, minus Logan who, now knowing he dosen’t have a fight on his hands is going to get drunk because logan frankly has three states: boning, drinking and killin, and Kurt’s already swooping in there, and while you’d think hitting on Luke Cage’s girlfriend would be dumb, Luke is not above a three way. I mean why do you think danny sleeps at his and jess’s place every other Sunday? Storm being the leader she is offers to leave, but Harmony, seeing three handsome young men and likely having an open relationship with Luke, decides what the hell and lets the X-Men stay. Kitty scoffs at her and.. oh god I’m going to have to talk about the Colossus and Kitty thing aren’t I? Fuck me…. Yeah for those of you who weren’t aware, Kitty had a crush on Colossus.. a grown man at the very least 6 years older than her. They eventually DID enter a relationsip, that THANK CHRIST, wasn’t sexual till Jim Shooter, in one of the few times he actually made sense as Marvel’s Editor in Chief outright told Chris to cut it out and broke the couple up himself by having Pitor fall for someone else. And while that whole romance was forced and rushed, it both ended an annoying subplot and gave us a DAMN good issue of Uncanny I’ll get to some day. We soon find out WHY the X-Men are in town in the first place:

I do like the story progression so far: it feels organic and the opening of the X-Men barging in on an apartment is a nice hook and the following pages quickly explain the situation without feeling too clunky about it. But yeah Kitty’s Parents want to see her and while as Ororo notes she dosen’t have anything to wear, Harmony being a true friend to this person she just met offers up her vast wardrobe which Kitty herself quickly gets herself a piece of. The two get dressed and head off to meet the Prydes. We then get a short scene of Cyclops, whose on vacation visitng his brother Alex alongside his space pirate dad. As you can tell i’m not really going that much into it as it’s only one page of the isssue and has nothing to do with the rest of the plot other than informing us Professor Xavier’s in a coma, which tells me why he wasn’t with the rest of the team.  Back in NYC, Kurt is still flirting with Harmony when the team gets a call from Kitty... who wonders if Ororo got home okay. Kurt’s instantly put on alert because she’d told kitty she was heading straight back.. hours ago. And as we see bellow, she’s been attacked with two marks left on her neck... which can only mean one thing.. NEIL BREEN HAS KILLED AGAIN.. or you know vampires. 

Storm is rushed to the hospital and Logan and PItor soon get the call thanks to Storm’s wallet to come get her. While the doctor wants to keep her overnight Storm is.. oddly calm, finding the night realixing and getting the feeling something’s watching her, but shaking it off. The fact she’s not CONCERNED about that or seems chipper after having her throat torn open just screams red flag don’t’ it? Storm returns home to rest , shooing the rest of the X-Men away and well. if you were wondering when the hell this turned into a vampire story besides the whole neck bites thing... 

The scene is haunting and well done and Bill, since his last name is hard to spell and I’ve mangled enough names as is on this blog, does a fine job with it, portraying the horror of it as well as how entrhaled Ororo is well. IT’s this sort of moody atmospheric stuff that would serve him well when he became artist on New Mutants and thare’s damn good reason his run is where the book really starts to pick up steam. Kitty returns home.. and is greeted with the news Storm has turned ill. When kitty tries visting storm is afraid of the sunlight, has a mysterious scarf from an admierer with a large D on it, and flinches when Kitty’s star of david brushes up against her. Kitty, sensing the obvious heads off to do some errands. Later that night Ororo lets her her “lover” and the one behind all this...

Yup. I wasn’t lying or exaggerating in the teaser: The one behind all this is DRACULA. That Dracula, not some alien or some other vampire. The prince of Darkness himself has designs on Ororo. And if your wondering if this is just some one issue weirdness… NOPE. Around this time, Dracula had his own ongoing started in the 70’s, Tomb of Dracula and what I’ve read is excellent. As a result Dracula was a part of the Marvel Universe, had his own backstory and enimies, and fought the likes of Dr. Strange and Spider-Man and earlier this year was the center of a major plot in Jason Aaron’s Avengers run. But before he can turn her, help arrives..

IT’s kitty who got a nifty Van Helsing getup and a cross.. but in an intresting twist on the mythos the cross does nothing. But not for the by this point cliché reason of “we’re just not using that old chesnut”, no in the Marvel Universe one needs genuine faith for the religious symbols weakness to work… and as the star of david showed earlier, Kitty is Jewish .. but when Dracula tries to choke a bitch, it’s said star of David that saves her. Tragically, Storm is too brainwashed to run and leaves with Dracula, begging Kitty to forget her and leaving the poor child in tears as her surrogate older sister leaves with a monster, possibly forever and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. On a side note though nice entrance line. While it’s no “Begone monster you do not belong in this world!” it’s still pretty sweet. 

The rest of the team burst in and Kitty explains what’s going on: that while she didn’t know it was DRACULA till now, she was supscious but rightly suspected the others wouldn’t belive her and Logan dosen’t, trying to write off the scarf as Harmony or Misty’s.. but Kurt shoots it down, stating that Kitty is no child and her word means as much as Logan’s own, with his own time in Bavaria telling him to not take vampires lightly.. ESPECIALLY Dracula. Even if Logan still isn’t buying it, Kitty does point out that wether she’s right or not, Ororo is too injured to leave out in the wild, let alone with some strange man who may or may not be Dracula. Given this is a superhero comic, a fight naturally breaks out, with Dracula summoning his wolves, where’d he purchase those, to fight while Kurt tries fighting the big man himself.. and quickly gets his fuzzy blue ass handed to him. Colossus and WOlverine take the wolves out and prepare for the big man himself. 

As you can see Dracula is handing them their asses.. which is no surprise: not only are the X-Men two members short, and even if they weren’t Dracula would still be able to take them. It also helps ease him into this shared universe: the reason why he hasn’t been beaten for good with so many heroes out there is simple:  besides having the cover of being so famous that most wouldn’t belive he’s real, he’s also really damn powerful and only one vampire hunter after him has any sort of powers, that being Blade who was introduced in Tomb of Dracula. And while he’s a vampire, he dosen’t have Drac’s broken number of extra powers.

With it now being clear given he fuck slammed Colossus that Dracula is out of their league Kurt suggests a straight up fight won’t work and they need plan B.. and with that we get the best scene in the issue, the one that made me want to read it in the first place. 

Just as a recap, in a brilliant callback to a few pages ago, Wolverine tries, cleverly, to use his claws as a cross.. but as Dracula mocks him, it won’t work. Like Parappa the Rapper says you gotta belivie.. and unfortunately for Dracula, Kurt does in what is, to my suprise, the first time his religion comes up but it works well and adds a sizeable amount to his character. Sadly as fucking epic as this is, it only holds him off for a second and he soon sendds lightning after him because.. apparently he can do that now? I dunno.  While this goes on Kitty runs into the castle which Dracula has morphed into his own kinda castle, and while Kitty dosen’t find dracula she does find an almost turned storm and readies a stake, though Ororo points out it won’t do much good.. and we get another powerful scene as Kitty decides she’s right. 

While that goes on, the rest of the team presses on but have no more luck and soon Dracula has them beat and Storm arrives seemingly having slain kitty.. only to shed her Dracula outfit for her uniform and start kicking Dracula’s ass, kicking off an awesome fight between the two.

She ends up slamming him into a party where Drac, being a sore looser, tries to force her to submit.. but she stays her ground and he gets desperat holding a hostage to try and get her to submit

But as seen she will not and refuses to.. and Dracula admits defeat, realizing he was genuinely attracted to her and he’d have to snuff out what made her worthy of being his queen to do so. Granted he’s still a creepy mind rapist, but it’s still a nice character touch. He books it out of there, and being good at evading people as his solo would show, tells Ororo following would be a fools errand and givne how beaten down her team is , even with her back to give them the edge, he’s right. So for now he escapes, but the X-Men have one the night and Ororo is free and back to being just a mutant again and tearfully reunited with kitty at misty’s place.

With that touching scene done, our heroes runite with Harmony, with Misty and Coleen now present and celebrate their narrow victory. There’s also a quick stinger with Moira MacTaggert telling the X-Men xavier’s condition has gotten worse, but for the most part, it’s a happy ending as our heroes, however narrowly have won the day and I thankfully got this done before Halloween ended.

Final Thoughts: This issue is every bit as good the second time around, if not more so now I know who Harmony is and have read some of Dracula’s own title, though it’s not a necessity as none of the stuff from Tomb is important here, and Harmony is introduced well enough. This issue is a masterpiece, having atompsheric moody horror, the drawings well done and there’s so much I didn’t show that’s just awesome and Bill would only get better from here. The character work is also great as most of the X-Men get moments to shine. While wolverine is mostly there for his usaul schtick as is Colosus, how easily dracula manhandles them shows just how strong he is without feeling forced. But the real stars are Kurt, who gets one of his finest moments here and even after that fails still presses on anyway, Storm whose transformation is truly horrifying and whose ultimate victory is made all the sweeter and Kitty, whose at her best with: her youthful naivity matching well with her refusal to give up as she stares down both Dracula and her big sister in equal amounts. The issue is a must read for what’s left of this Halloween and every one after it and a great little done in one. Even with the btis of other storylines, it’s still easy to read and understand on it’s own and is one of the best one and done issues i’ve ever read and still holds it’s position in my eyes as one of the best X-Men stories period, taking what should be a rediculous premise and owning the hell out of it. A must read if i’ve ever read one. 

#uncanny x-men #x-men #storm #wolverine #colossus #kitty pryde #nightcrawler #dracula #tomb of dracula #marvel comics #harmony young #misty knight #vampires #horror #halloween.